One Year On

This isn't the view from Rob's home in Sandgate - but it might just as well be. Sun, sea and sky, a perfect horizon - always speak his name to me.

I'm still half-expecting any day now to look up and see him walking towards me in the distance with Mutley scampering ahead and straining on his lead, pausing for a quick wee or three along the way. I'd see that tall independent man, shy but confident, with the most beautiful smile - coming along at his own pace, enjoying his surroundings and taking it all in quietly, as ever.

And if that did happen, I'd just hold him very tight, with no words for quite a long time. Then we'd exchange - Are you OK? Yes. Good. What would you like to do now? Where shall we go? And we'd walk on - while the part of me inside that's broken and empty re-opened and healed up, gently.

Death is part of life and we should prepare for it - emotionally, spiritually and practically - with clear mindedness and good planning. For me, it isn't the end, it just leads to the next bit.

For me now, in my life, grief has led me to see the bigger picture - always. And it's really big. It's all about people, events, feelings and kindness - looking for harmony. I live to look over the top of problems, to be gentle, to be strong, to keep going. I find great contentment in family and friends - in nature - in laughter - in kindness itself.

There just isn't any reason to live any other way.

And I am a richer person for having known and loved Rob.