Julia died on Thursday night. Just writing that down makes it a little more real. We came home early from the Lake District to say our goodbyes. In time, my abiding memory will be of Julia-proper rather than ill-and-weak-Julia, struggling for every breath. I weep at inopportune times. At the Sainsbury's check-out wasn't great.
Claire brought me a glass of gooseberry on Thursday night whilst I was in the bath as a suitable wine to mark the occasion. The gooseberries are from Julia's allotment, of course.
I cannot convey the loss.
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| That's Julia, looking at the camera, singing |
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