Yesteday was my birthday. Now I am exactly twice the age Hugh would have been this year. I haven't been greatly enamoured of these yearly events since hitting fifty but now, coming as it does only two days after Hugh's anniversary, it is a day to be got through somehow or other. This year, we had a weekend away and it worked to some extent. The relaxed atmosphere and complete change of scenery helped and I managed to get through the whole day with barely a mention. Truth to tell, I am not really sure why I found it such an ordeal, except, of course, that it is part of these awful few weeks, leading up to Hugh's own birthday on 28th, which was also the day of his funeral.
It's a low point and the only way to deal with it is to take it one day at a time and remember that it won't last for ever. But it will all jump out to bite us from time to time and, while that will gradually get easier to cope with, it will never go away completely.