Sunshine and Showers





 As I write this, the sun is streaming in through the window and there is a slightly chilly north-easterly wind ruffling the leaves of the shrubs in the garden. We have had quite an extended period of good weather for this time of year, and life is all the better for it... which is a very good thing indeed, for just as meteorologically speaking it has been a time of more sunshine than showers,  metaphorically speaking the opposite is true.


Not that these last few months haven't had their high points... I had two stories published in March, one (The Melusine Pact) in ParSec magazine and another (Pulse) in Black Cat Weekly, and my grief memoir (Precious Dreams and Living Nightmares- written under my real name, Kevin Burke) continues to garner a truly wonderful (and frankly humbling) response from readers. I also had an extremely positive road trip at the beginning of April, taking in lots of old friends and revelling in a week of unmitigated sunshine.

But for those who have read my memoir, those who know me well, or those who just follow this blog, it will come as no surprise that this time of year is extremely challenging emotionally, marking as it does the anniversary of the death of my wife and soulmate, Shirley. Indeed, this was the primary motivator of the trip away... I just couldn't stay at home, drowning in the pain of that time two years ago, when everything changed. Everywhere I look there is a memory, everywhere I go I am reminded of our life together, and if you have read my book you will know that I have a real problem with memories. I hope with all my heart that one day I will be able to look back with joy at the time we shared together (for it was a blessed and beautiful time) but for the present the emotions those memories bring to the surface remain far too raw.

Of course, just because I went away doesn't mean that I could avoid those memories, nor did I want to, but being with understanding friends in a range of different environments certainly helped... and in a strange way gave me the space for a bit of objective reflection... and as I embark upon my third year of loss, that is no bad thing, 

So on we go, tentatively stepping out into the sunshine, knowing that the showers will still come, but in the hope that they will grow less frequent, and soak us less intensely...  always remembering that there is no shame in retreating when we need to, and taking shelter till the storm passes. Then we take a deep breath, put on some dry clothes, and prepare to walk out again tomorrow.

One day at a time, my friends. One day at a time.





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