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Dear Sarah,

Here we are, less than 2 hours from the New Year. I'm going to write this and then go to bed - early start plus I don't feel much like seeing out The. Worst. Year. Ever., notwithstanding whatever wishes the new one brings, it will still be at least a bit shit without you. I read a post earlier about how someone was dreading the new year because they'd be entering a year without their loved one (father, I think) who'd died and they felt like they'd be leaving them behind. I want to leave 2024 behind, somehow I hope to leave sick and dying you there too and find happier memories resurfacing as time moves on. Obviously I don't know what the new year will actually bring, besides a lot of painful anniversaries, but I'm determined to make what I can of it (including getting a new laptop! - false economy this one, definitely) whatever that is. But I started a new painting today at least, which is something, and I haven't forgotten how to do it. I'm also off to London tomorrow, missing the football, to catch up with Anton and co before they go back to Stockholm, plus seeing the girls and returning the tech Charlotte left here at Christmas.

Christmas itself went ok, there were a few things I forgot; guest towels for instance, but the whole thing went as well as I'd hoped. Michael ended up staying Eve to Boxing Day, Adam did most of the cooking, I nearly forgot the pudding - frantically tying a cloth on it at 11pm on Xmas Eve, and Santa only visited the girls at 8.30am (which was ok as they weren't awake yet anyway). It was nearly normal but I did have a bit of a meltdown after dinner when I got to clearing up. This was something I did, usually to get out of watching the Queen and here I was, after batting away offers of help because this was my job, crying partly with relief at getting through the day but mostly intense sorrow of course that I had had to do it without you. Michael, bless him, impervious to social cues (Hark who's talking) almost insisted on helping but was practically dragged away by John to join the others and leave me to get on with it.

It's now completely packed away. Christmas that is. Mum went home on Sunday and I started taking things down that night. I suppose being on my own isn't in itself very festive but I also couldn't see the point of keeping it all up for another week for what? I'm sure the wise men would understand!

Right, bedtime before I get sucked into new year telly and stay up far too late.

All my love, as ever

R


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