The hardest part is letting go, not taking part...

I thought this year would be different. I'd said, at the start of 2017, that it would be, or at least that was the idea.
Every year until now, I've gone to the same place, on the same day, but this year I didn't. It had been the plan, to go for a short break to Berlin on this weekend, with my eldest daughter, but finances dictated differently for both of us, sadly, so that fell through.
Today I had a reasonable amount of work to get through, had my son to support, as he suffers from anxiety, lots more work, an argument with my youngest daughter, and even more work.
The weather was awful. Not cold, mind you, but generally wet and miserable. Driech, as they say in Scotland. On this day, for six years, the sun has shone, and day has been bright and inviting. For on 13th October, 2011, I was married. On every wedding anniversary since, I have visited the beautiful place where we made our vows.
This year, I didn't go. I'm glad now that I didn't, my memories are not of miserable weather, but of a warm glow from everything and everyone.
Still miss the groom, my husband, my rock. The tears cascade down my cheeks as I enjoy the memories, but not the subsequent loneliness...
The photo is where we were married ❤️