I only have one of Ray's family that I am still in touch with, his older brother's wife. I rang her on Sunday night in answer to sundry messages left on my answer phone and sadly learned that one of Ray's brother-in-laws had died. I was away from Thursday to Sunday so I missed the phone calls and missed the funeral which was yesterday. I may not have gone anyway but I did send a card to Ray's sister. His two sisters were my bridesmaids and as I have a large photo of my wedding group on the wall I "see" them every day but have not seen this sister for at least twelve years, maybe longer as she was the one who did not come to Ray's funeral.

It is another happening that makes me realise once again that life is short and if I want to do some of the things I have planned I have to do them sooner rather than later. So back to planning trips for next year. And trying once again to reconnect with old friends. Our lives go off at a tangent from the main plan so often. When Ray was alive I often thought I should have as an epitaph the words from the John Lennon song : "Beautiful Boy", "life is what happens when we're busy making other plans". Now my life has slowed right down, no rush to get him up, dressed, breakfasted etc, only me to get up and get about the day's business. It is such a different life as a widow but I think I am growing into it at last.

I had a good time away with my Apex40 friends, 19 of us in all, three singles, the rest couples. Yes, I did feel envious of the ladies whose menfolk got them a drink, sat beside them, held hands etc but these are my friends and I want that for them. Yes, I and the widow I share a cabin with on these occasions now did feel a little left out as they went off in cars to do their own thing but we did find one set of small boutiques and browsed around and enjoyed the day and the company. One of the men did our BBQ for us and other women dropped into our cabin to stay and say "hello" so it seems they are also getting used to our new status. Sometimes I feel like the pioneer in this group of mostly married couples, and I guess they are all on a learning curve too.

Spring is turning to summer storms, had a doozy last night, all flash and crash, not a lot of rain here though fierce winds hit Sydney. I hunkered down under the quilt and listened to the wind howling outside knowing that this time last year a freak wind blew my cabin roof off. That is safe so far this year. But as a widow, a woman on her own, I am afraid that something will happen that I can't fix, ridiculous really as I know I have good neighbours and family only three hours drive away but nevertheless there are times when I do feel very alone.

So far there has been little growing in the garden but my tomato plants are in bloom and the possums chose to eat all of Brett'e herbs instead of mine so I do have parsley and basil and mint growing again. I love fresh herbs for cooking, herb fritters, herbs in scrambled eggs, herbed chicken, I have lots of herbed recipes. I must confess I hardly ever cook a meal from scratch, I got so used to cooking and freezing meals ahead when Ray was here and time was short that I still do that, cook mashed potatoes, defrost a casserole portion, combine the two, cook pasta, defrost a neopolitan portion, combine the two, you get the idea.

I still don't like to do things I would have done with Ray if he had still been here. I think I still have survivor guilt, that feeling that says: " I shouldn't be enjoying myself when my loved one is no longer able to do so." I know that is silly way of thinking but it continues to be one of the things that holds me back from fully enjoying myself. I do wonder in a way if that feeling is something to do with self-protection. I saw a program recently on grieving and one of the commentators said that he thinks that some women still wrap themselves in widow's weeds and carry the grief with them wherever they go as a way of keeping the world at bay. That would seem out of touch with life today but maybe what I feel is in some ways similar

I still have to remind myself that I am a work in progress. Yes, I can go out and enjoy myself. I can sing again and my laugh is back to full strength. One of the women on the weekend said that she knew where I was as she could hear my laughter five shops away. Now is that a good thing or a bad thing?