It’s always lovely to get cards through the post. Well almost always…
That dreaded card dropped through the letter box today. Don’t need to open it. Just look at the name on the front. My partners name.
This is now the fifth Christmas since the world changed. Over that period virtually everyone who needs to know, knows. So THOSE cards are rare. But not rare enough. When I see my partners name above the address my heart sinks. It’s a reminder of what is no more. It’s also a sign that somebody still doesn’t know.
The card is from someone who clearly knew my partner well. The message on the card makes that clear. This person also sends a Christmas and Birthday card without fail. The first name rings a bell but not a clue on the surname. Not a clue on the sender address. The postmark doesn’t give any clues. I will go through the address book (again) but my partner would often use nicknames rather first names. Needle in a haystack.
It’s amazing how one little card can take so much wind out of my sails.