A wee moan, I am afraid! People in real life do mean well, and I take a deep breath and smile every time, but I am getting a bit pained at all the folk who are telling me how hard Christmas is for me, and how they are thinking of me.
I do appreciate the thoughts, I really do, but the woman who said to me on Sunday how hard it was for me, to whom I replied that no, the girls and I are doing well and we are having a good Christmas really wound me up when she said, "Aren't the girls upset about their dad, then?"
No one has the right to make comments like that. No one.
It seems that hardly anyone can understand this family and how we tick. We had been prepared for the FH to die for years, and we had openly spoken to the girls about life "after Dad", it was part of conversation around here. We all knew that his life would end years before ours. We are realistic - always optimistic, yes, but realistic too - and we knew and we prepared ourselves and them. Some people just don't grasp that at all.
We have just had a lovely half hour sitting on my bed, laughing and joking and remembering their younger childhoods and some of the things we got up to! We have memories to cherish and to share, and to chuckle together over when the mood takes us. We are not miserable. We loved him and we do miss him, but we are moving on, and not dwelling on the past.
He had a great life over seven decades, saw a lot of the world and had some amazing experiences. He was born between the wars and lived long enough to see this great technological age. He benefited from some of the most exciting developments in modern medicine. He was a generous and clever man, and had an impact on a great many lives.
But the past is the past, and my girls and I still have a future.