It’s the weekend and I wake feeling focussed. We talk finances over morning coffee. I am usually the one more in charge of money stuff but I’m feeling like I need to transfer things over to Susannah, to get her ready, just in case. There are many adult real life conversations we’ll need to have as this thing progresses. None of them are nice.

We decide to escape for awhile. It’s raining again so we head out shopping. Retail therapy.

The distraction is good and we arrive home with a car full of household stuff from Storage Box. I pop upstairs to visit Mum and when I return Susannah has transformed the kitchen with our new purchases. The kitchen has always been an important centrepiece to whatever house we lived in (and we’ve lived in many). This place is starting to really feel like our home now.

It’s raining hard again and very windy. The Harbour Bridge is closed. I stand at the window and watch the trees in the bush sway with the wind. Isn’t it beautiful, Susannah says from the kitchen. It sure is, I say and start to cry. I feel very lucky to have this little slice of paradise but also cheated that it could all get snatched away. Susannah joins me at the window and we weep together. Afterward we move to the sofa and talk about our fears of losing one another. We should be enjoying this time together in our new place but I just can’t get past this immense feeling of loss.