southbound

got the train home today - this is the view from the viaduct at berwick, mid-morning. bright sunshine; the weather not caring that other things are gloomy - or perhaps trying to counter that gloom.

up to alnwick to see S&J again, now with an additional C - best part of 20 yearts since i've seen S's little brother (he's well over 6ft, i've never been able to see eye to eye unless he's sitting and i'm standing). family stuff is weird - but it's nice to feel like i'm part of it; come in, sit down, fit in, grab a chair, no standing on ceremony.

S warned me as we came upstairs, but the change in N in less than a fortnight is shocking all the same. it's not unexpected, this is the end, and i tried to be prepared but now know i never could be. when i was last here he was desperately ill, unconscious - but still him. now, tho that's his body lying on the bed, it's not him. he's gone, just a bit of him hasn't quite managed to let go yet.

i'm pleased they told J&S not to come; they said their goodbyes when he as conscious and merely very ill. they shouldn't have to deal with this - and now i know my mother was as much right as wrong to keep similar things from me when i was their age. it's not that you don't cope, you do because you have to. but the longer you can go without having to, the better.

i feel a bit useless here, but S&J are desperate for new company, new topics of conversation - when you spend 80% of your daylight hours sitting by a hospital bed you run out of things to say. i concentrate on not looking left, up the bed, and just talk. i find underneath all my loathing of hospitals and sickness i am my mother's daughter: i sit and i talk and am there to be leaned on. this small thing i can do.