I guess you could call it a happy ending. A came to my wedding with his wife. B played for us (she is a musician) and was my maid of honour. Mum and dad were there, old and dear friends were there -- all flown in from abroad. And it was lovely. I even won mum's approval: she rang me after three weeks and told me how much she had enjoyed the wedding. THAT's actually something to enter into Guinnes Book of Records. All daughters struggle to gain approval from their mums, I am no exception. That said, it took a while to get mum to accept T completely. She was unusually fond of my ex K as they shared a wicked sense of humour, but when she discovered how able T was with power tools her tune completely changed and her approval stamp was duly distributed. If she could have done so on one of his buttocks, she would have. Formerly known as best friend -- L -- was not there. I've no idea if she even knew of the wedding, or cared.
You may have gathered that something else has happened since my last confession. Yes, mum died. In 2012. She was not the only one. 2012 turned into a devastating year of loss. G died first, in April -- he was the one who introduced me to K but still forgave me our split and refused to abandon our friendship. Then we lost one of our dogs in dramatic circumstances. Then Uncle D (not my real uncle) who'd been part of introducing me to appalling theatre direction against a lovely backdrop of great set design. Then H, who'd been diagnosed with cancer 8 years earlier and given three months to live and finally died from complications after an unrelated leg operation. Then mum. My wonderful, irreplaceable mum who got so terribly ill during a holiday in Spain, and B and I were flown to Benidorm by the insurance agent to say goodbye. I moved into the hospital, dragged mum back from the grave and sent her home on an SOS flight -- and that was the last I saw of her. She died a month later. But at least she died in a country where she could understand the language. I miss her more than -- no, this is something there are no words for.
I've managed to get off the anti-depressants. It took me well over two years and was fairly unassisted, medically, though it would not have been possible without T. I still have black days. I try not to bother anyone with them.
2013 set off with another couple of deaths but was then quiet. And to patch up the loss of O, our dog, we got a puppy. He is now 9 months old and a real handful. But if you thought we managed to get on an even keel here, you're wrong. The puppy is deaf... When the breeder made the discovery she immediately asked us if we still wanted him. T and I both had the knee-jerk reaction that one does not choose away a deaf child, why would we choose away a deaf puppy? There have been problems. There are still problems. But we're learning -- as is the puppy. And we love him to bits.
Are you waiting for my impression of A? :-) Here is: a really nice guy! Heart in the right place, looks just like dad. Large, a little oafish, large and also a little oafish wife, both of them lovely people.
I have yet to meet their son, but from what I've seen on Facebook, he's grown into a really good-looking young man who, incidentally, is doing military service in the same battalion as B's oldest son.
It's a small world.