It's been 367 days ....
Time passes ... but I am not convinced it heals.... It's been 367 days since I said my last goodbye to my husband. He was one of the 155,613 people who have died of covid 19 (Today's count in the uk). He died on 28th January 2021. He was number one to me - 1 in a million! The best! MINE! I have been a widow for just over a year. I can't believe it's been a year... in some ways it's been a life-time and in others just a breath ago since I 'ruckled' his hair, told him I loved him, and asked him to visit me in my dreams. I couldn't kiss him because I was in full PPE - a full long-sleeved over-all, an apron, 2 pairs of gloves, a powdered face-mask and a visor. We had both tested positive on Boxing day 2020. I was feeling pretty 'crappy' but had put it down to 'end-of-term-itus' (I am a primary school headteacher and often felt poorly at the end of term). My hubby was fit and well- we got a test just to rule it out. We didn't expect for