Celebration......

Tomorrow evening at approximately 7pm I can guarantee you that my stomach will be full of sick and I will be struggling to fight back the tears.

Those that knew John will know that he was a (fucking brilliant!) Senior Curator at London Zoo. Tomorrow is his 'celebration', his send off from the Zoo. It will take place, weather permitting, at Penguin Beach, an exhibit that John himself designed.

The funeral was a walk in the park compared to tomorrow. 
It was a process, nothing more. We said our goodbyes to a coffin (which I still do not believe was him).
We sang a hymn.
We said some words.
We had a booze up. 
It wasn't "John".

Tomorrow evening will be nothing but "John". 
He will "be there".
It's his place of work, in the exhibit he designed, surrounded by his colleagues and peers. The night will be 'drenched in John'.

AND, it will be a bloody large 'kick in the bollocks reminder' that he is dead. 
I don't want a reminder, I want my man.

I have been fighting back the tears all day today. 
A couple of people have seen a glimmer of my grief (thank you for listening Mrs. Forton-Holey!) but I am trying to hold it together. 

I feel the need to hold it together, I must try to hold it together, for my Husband. 

I have to keep reminding myself that tomorrow night is a 'Celebration'. 

But I can't help thinking that I don't want to celebrate.

I want him back. 

Alive. 


Then, and only then, will I celebrate!