Journeys…particularly train journeys for some reason.
It’s the weirdest thing. I find tears welling up as I leave home turf. Even after all these years a feeling of leaving him all over again, or perhaps it is an emphasis of the loss, known but known all over again and bought from the pervading background into foreground focus once again.
Or perhaps it’s about leaving safety/home.
And then at each station I half expect him to be stood there.
How bloody ridiculous is that.
Even more so with the backdrop of beer soaked Glaswegian lads heading off to some poor holiday destination. Everyone else on the carriage looks long suffering and resigned.