One of my books

At present my daughter has a lot of her books, CDs, DVDs and so forth in piles on our sitting room floor, waiting to be packed into chests for shipping. I suddenly noticed a copy of one of the academic books I wrote before I retired: The Psychology of Food and Eating. I was touched by the fact that she intends to take this  with her. I had given it to her when it was first published some years ago. 

Piles of stuff for the packing chests

My book on food, on top of the pile

This morning I had the full English breakfast with my friend Tom. It is good to talk to friends in circumstances such as these. I tried to explain how sometimes I felt ok, only to be swamped seconds later by waves of sadness and helplessness. We talked about how it had some similarities with the way a bereavement can hit you. Because I have endured periods of darkness in the past, I do feel confident that at some point I will get through it all. The main problem at the moment is that I cannot predict at all when I am going to be hit by the next wave.

I had been feeling not too bad this morning and, after breakfast with Tom, I decided to risk a trip to the supermarket to get in some food items we needed. Stray thoughts kept entering my mind, unbidden. I had to really concentrate in order not to lose it, while I was waiting at the checkout. Then, walking my cart across the tarmac to my car, I kept getting images of my daughter helping to push the cart as a little girl, years ago, perhaps excited by some special treats I had bought for her. Truth be told, it was an amalgam of numerous separate occasions, not one trip, that I had manufactured in my mind’s eye. Somehow, I shall have to repress these mental images, if I am to get back onto an even keel. And that is what I am determined to do, however long it takes and however hard the task. Wish me luck, my dear blogophiles.

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