27th February 2016

27FEB

I don’t remember what time I got up. What I remember is putting on Radio 4 and sweeping the kitchen floor, as instinctive a habit as I could muster. I half listened to the news bulletin announcer, thinking, that’s strange, that’s Izzy and Beth they’re talking about.

I took the bin out. And for a split second, and it was really only a split second, I stopped.

I breathed in, smelt the morning air and realised I was alive. I could smell the morning air, hear the rustling of the trees in the breeze, see the sky above me. And Izzy and Beth couldn’t.

At 3 minutes past 8 (thanks to iPhone photo data), I took a picture of the sky above me from our backyard, trying to breath, trying to stand still through my tears.

I made some coffee and went back upstairs. Trace was still in bed, not really asleep.  I got my iPad, got back into bed and, at about 8.30, I wrote this:

“Two bright lights have gone out. They shone for 19 and 24 years for everyone who loved and adored them and everyone who came into contact with them. Izzy and Beth were living the adventure of life right to the end.”

It came out word after word with no editing and, it felt like, without conscious thought.

I cried constantly throughout. The longest time I’ve cried in my life.

 

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