They say, when you are grieving the loss of someone, that there’s always a trigger that makes you immediately, almost debilitatingly sad.
Mine is making bangers and mash.
You see, on one of the last days we ever saw him, I made them for dinner and they were burnt.
And he didn’t care.
I love the burnt bits, Kitty Kat, he said.
I don’t know whether he was lying, just to make me feel better. But then again, he was brutally honest most times. Either way, I’ll never know.
But what I do know is that making sausages triggers me to remember. They trigger me to miss him more than I usually do. Because humans are programmed to forget, they’re programmed to be distracted, programmed to be stronger than we ever realise until something terrible, so terrible happens. And then we realise the power of the human spirit.
You never forget love, though. You always love.
And you’ll always have burnt sausages.All comments read, appreciated and responded to. So thank you x