What Days

Boat club shenanigans continue. The dangers of social media – one of our members thought she was sending barbed WhatsApp messages to her dearest but instead send them round the entire hundred strong group. Why isn’t T talking to me? So, your lady friend’s dog has been on the boat!? She’s trouble at the best of times.
And then another problem – young M, who joined in April, clearly has a serious drink problem. There have been some observations about his conduct, but today was the worst – he banged into the club tender on returning to the pontoon and was incapable -just slouched in the cockpit and close to legless – a danger to himself and others. I was whistled up, and by then he was perched on a bollard watched over by DB, the harbour sec. I talked to him about how unacceptable his behaviour was, but with him in that condition there was little to add so I drove him home where he began at least talking a bit – I kept stressing that we want to help him if he’s got problems. Inwardly I fear his problems are bigger than we can cope with.
 
But earlier there was final step to take – it’s been seven weeks to the day since I got the news about Robbie, and today we took his ashes up to the old Kirkyard to join his grandparents. For those of us left, it’s a fine place to leave him; the notion of hallowed ground. It somehow has a resonance, even for rational people like myself.
Mostly I’ve been fine, but so many unexpected moments catch me and leave me in tears. A man and his young son stood up to get off the bus yesterday in front of me, and I watched them and thought back. That was me. That was my little lad. But he’s gone forever and left me. Hard to take at times.