I Miss You

I was reflecting this morning that the last few months have been unusually eventful. One week in late August, I found out my contract wasn't to be renewed. Later that same week I missed my flight to Barcelona. And when I did arrive in Sitges - a day late - I fell ill after eating a dodgy paella. The holiday that I planned in January, and looked forward to for months, was ruined, and I wondered, again, if life is nothing but a constant series of tests and challenges.

I was very worried about the prospect of jobhunting as the credit crunch started to bite. Thankfully, as previously posted, I found a new job fairly fairly easily, ironically starting the day that Lehman's went under. The new job is great - so much better than the last - and I'm incredibly thankful for that. Firstly, the work is good. Secondly, I'm on the third floor above ground; which hands-down beats the dark, dingy, airless basement I worked in for Three Long Years. And even though the London office is fairly small, there is a canteen where the firm provides a free lunch each day, prepared by chefs poached from Oxo Tower Restaurant. And we can help ourselves to drinks and snacks any other time of the day. When we want a change, the shops of Regent Street or the restaurants of Soho are two minute's walk from the office.

Meanwhile, we've had an incredibly mild autumn. Just two-and-a-half weeks ago, I was sunbaking in Kensington Gardens when it was 23 degrees. Last night, it snowed. The last time it snowed in London in October was 1934. That's 74 years ago! Very very strange.

And through of all this - the big stuff and small - I keep making mental notes to tell my grandmother about this or that, when I next speak with her. She'd have sympathised with the frustration of jobhunting, and been pleased to know how I'm getting on with the job, and, equally so, she'd be amused by how it was snowing just last night.

The trouble is that she passed away in July, and it hurts that I'll never be able to share these things with her. We used to speak regularly, at least once a week, usually as I walked to work . And whether it's denial, or force of habit, or that I plain miss her... it's moments like this, when I want to speak with her and forget that she's gone, that I miss her the most, and find the hardest.

I miss you, Yia Yia.