I know you’re not going to believe me, so look don’t even bother to tell me. When I’ve finished just don’t say anything. You’ll spoil it see. For a long time I thought I wouldn’t tell anyone, just because of that, because I didn’t want it spoiled but it’s just bubbling up in me – all the time bubble bubble. It’s just has to come out so, I thought well I’ll tell you, because I think I can trust you not to spread it around, not to laugh at me. Don’t do that will you. Don’t laugh at me.
So, okay here we go. Do you remember last year? After Justin died and I was such a mess, a total nut job really. Well after the fuss, all the funeral and sorting out the stuff with his will and the bank and when everyone had gone back to the real world and I was left in mine, for the first time without him.
Anyway, I tried to do as he’d always said I should, to just get on and carry on living. First of all I cleared out his desk, so’s I could use it myself – I didn’t know what to do with all the stuff – The paper and ruler and so on I just put into the cupboard for me to use later but there was other stuff,more personal. I’m wearing his watch, I like that, but his glasses – I just didn’t know what to do. They were still pretty new and so in the end I stuck ‘em in that recycle box at the chemist so they can send them to Africa. I like that you know, that thought of his glasses being worn by a man in Africa, looking at zebras and giraffes and elephants. I think Justin would’a liked that don’t you? He was always a big softy about animals. D’ya remember that cat he brought home one time? A scraggy little thing it was and full of fleas. He fed it up and cleaned it and even had it at the vets and then bugger me soon as it was all fit and well it went to live with them next door. Oh he was fit to be tied over that but being Justin he just said “Oh well, they’ve got something we haven’t.” Mind you, now and again I’d see him leaning over the fence giving it little biscuits. So, yes I liked that idea, his glasses seeing things that he never did, wildlife and such. We always used to say we’d go you know, one day when we could afford it, off on safari – well – ‘course we never did, folk like us we don’t do stuff like that.
Oh, yeah back to what I was going to tell you. Sorry, I get side tracked like that these days, I don’t know why, I think being on my own so much I just let my thoughts wander about here and there and it’s hard to get them back into line when I need to. So, yes. A few days after I’d sorted out his stuff, given his clothes to the Sally Army and his books to Oxfam, God he had a lot of books, dozens and dozens of em. I’d never realised how they were building up and building up – still they’ve all gone now, I just use my Kindle so I can put ornaments on the shelves. I like that, though I have kept his old Bible and his favourite couple of novels. I like to hold them and feel that because he touched em, then I touch em, it’s sort of like I can still reach him somehow. I know it’s silly but there’s no harm is there?
Anyway, what I was going to tell you. Well, I was laying down on the couch, it’s nice about three o clock, the sun comes through the side window and it’s warm and lovely, and the clock just ticking in the background, and the fire crackling and I doze sometimes and read and just think. There I was just thinking and remembering and I felt my eyes closing and as they did I caught a glimpse of a something, just like a glitter off to the side, I jerked awake, you know how you do and all your skin tingles and your heart thumps and jumps. Anyway, I looked over, across at his chair and there was this – oh you’re not going to believe me but here goes. Well, it was like a scene, a sort of vision – God that sounds so daft but it were just like a film, on the chair, on the cushion at the back. There was grass and sky, so much sky, and trees and a lovely river and then as I watched it this movement in the long grass and, oh it was lovely, a lion, true as I’m sitting here, a lion drinking in the water and then it all wobbled and hazed over and faded. I don’t know whether it was a dream or my imagination or just that I’m going batty in my old age, but I’ve seen it since, about six times now, and I just wondered, I thought – well do you think that it’s those old glasses, Justin’s old specs – looking out in Africa or wherever and he’s sending me the pictures back – Do you think it could be. Just maybe, oh that would be lovely wouldn’t it, just as if we’d gone there together and oh I would like that so much.