Forgive me writing this note to you here on the blog but when we met on the beach yesterday I didn’t catch your last name, and I feel I must apologise.
I’m so sorry that I became that person yesterday. Nitro bounded up to your dog and I hurried as best I could to reach you before you recoiled from the big black Lab bullet that he is. Thankfully, you didn’t recoil. Instead, we started chatting.
Well, you clocked my tear-soaked cheeks, and you listened as we walked the dogs.
Of course at first, we talked about the dogs.
-Sorry about him running up to you like that. He hasn’t been out and off the leash in days.
-It’s alright. He’s a lovely dog.
-Yes, and he’s normally well trained and generally comes back when I call but he’s just so pent up. My husband’s in hospital.
-Oh. Is he going to be OK?
-I don’t know.
You glanced at me and saw the tears escape. I have no idea if he or we are going to be alright.
-He’s in the mental health system and they won’t give me any details about his condition.
-What? Why? Are you the next-of-kin?
-I’m his wife.
-Yeah, I know. But I’m just so tired now. If they don’t want me to know, or he doesn’t want me to know…..
-It’s hard. How long will he be in hospital for?
-I don’t know.
-You need to look after yourself. You’re burnt out. You need rest.
And then we talked some more and said goodbye and you wandered down the beach, your wings hidden inside your hoodie.
Eve, I’m so sorry I became that person who offloads on a complete stranger, but thank you so much for being there.