10. Time moves on. Some weeks whizz by now and occasionally a ‘sad’ day still drags. June and July hold awful memories but they do become hazier and easier to manage. I desperately try and remember the better Junes and Julys we had together. I don’t want to make too much of tomorrow being the date Phil died. Because he lived. We lived well. He was loved. And he loved me. And isn’t that the most important thing? The most precious thing.
Thanks so much to Lizzie for giving us permission to share her wise words.