John has just mentioned - after a goosing - about his friend, Bob, dying, and how hard it must be for Olwen to face a glorious day like today - the sun beaming down and the Spring flowers out as if nothing has happened.
In a much smaller way, there is slightly less a reason for me to want to go out to my rural workshop, now that Dolly the Collie will not be there to greet me. If I feel like that, then heaven knows how Dolly's owner must feel, not being woken at dawn by her climbing onto the bed and snuggling up as she has for the last 12 years.
Whenever I have experienced that sort of loss - like when my mother or father died - for several days I would wake up in the morning thinking, 'I know something quite important has happened, but I can't quite remember what it is... oh yes, now I remember', and the loss comes crashing down again, and the void opens up afresh.
A few hours of repair in bed - during which time nothing has changed - and then you are ready to face life again - or as ready as you ever will be.
My father a few days after the death of my mother:
"I don't think I will ever get over this."
"Neither do I, but you will get used to it."
24 minutes ago