I have been thinking a lot recently about the amount of time that has passed since Greg died. It helps me perversely to get closer to him and to accept what has happened, how I have coped since he went etc. I usually do all these complicated calculations in my head and decided yesterday to succumb to the time ticker I have now installed on the right of this page. Up to now, I have been able to say that Greg died this year, then last year, but from 1 January, it will become "the year before last" and therefore more of a mouthful to say. The time ticker will be more accurate, although no less of a mouthful to say.
I wonder whether to change the blog design. I've had this one since I started back in May 2008, so I question whether a change is due. On the other hand my blog is so part of me now, it is like stepping into an old pair of pyjamas to watch TV. It wouldn't seem right watching TV in a ballgown. I am still undecided.
I have also been reading back through some of the archive to remind myself what the last years were like. The last twenty months have been much more peaceful and I needed reminding of how grim things had got in the years before Greg died. So now I have created a new page for my archives so I can dot back to them more easily. Not pleasant reading. A shudder passes through me when I recall those days. Greg really was a lovely person. So kind, thoughtful, sensitive, wouldn't-kill-a-fly type of guy. Intelligent, knowledgeable, in a high-flying career. You would not have thought so if you met him in the last five years of his life. That alcohol changed him into something else. A monster, a tramp, a depressive. He had a streak in him that didn't like being told what to do, but that amber liquid led him by the nose wherever it wanted him to go. It led him to a place where he could not fight it and it finally consumed him. It takes a lot to get my head round that.