I don’t seem to have mentioned Trev here for a while – not because I haven’t been thinking about him every day, but because… Well, I don’t know. There hasn’t been a great deal more to say, and you can only say “I miss him” so many times before it loses its impact.
This past week, however, has been another hump in the road of coming to terms with his death; another slightly different wave of missing him.
You know how it is when you haven’t seen a valued friend or family member for a while and it’s nice to catch up with them? Someone you like, whose company you enjoy, but for one reason or another you’ve been out of touch? I’ve been out of touch with Trev for four and a half months now and it’s as though there are little reminders in my head saying “You haven’t spoken to Trev for ages…”
That’s how I’ve been feeling this past week: thinking how nice it would be to talk to him and catch up, and then – yet again – realise that I can’t.
TV programmes about geeky stuff on TV made me think “Trev would like this – I’ll have to mention it to him…“
Books I read that Trev was the only person who might also enjoy – “I’ll make a note of that and get it for his birthday…“
Reading something cool in New Scientist that I knew he would also have been reading and thinking “Whoaa!“
All these things have during this past week re-opened that hole in my chest where Trev’s memories seem to almost physically reside (seriously – when I’m caught unawares by the grief it does feel like a sudden hole in my chest).
It’s the loss of a kindred spirit – someone you just knew would appreciate the same things you did.
But at the moment all those strings that drew us together when he was alive seem only to be tripping me up.