This afternoon I sat at the bench on the grass at the end of the pontoons. I had a book and a cup of coffee. I had not been there long before another boater turned up with his dog Lewis and his ball. Lewis does not have an off button. You throw the ball and Lewis brings it back, then demands to be thrown again. He does not give up..It is tiring watching him. He came and sat at the table, then T joined us, followed by S his wife. We all sat chatting. Mr Hs had gone into my work to collect some paperwork which I could not deal with.
Meanwhile we sat and chatted, we saw a lorry wending its way round the marina, and deduced it was delivering the bench seat for Jean who died earlier this month. The bench was put on the hillock by the bridge overlooking most of the marina. We all walked to see the bench which had the inscription from her husband that binds her to the waterways, canals and to Bromley Marina. We sit, talk, stand and she is there with us. The community of boaters is strong and we respect her memory.
Later when Mr Hs returned from picking up some paperwork from my work, we all sat and chatted. I struggle to keep up with the humour because my emotional side has been damaged. There is part of me that feels very isolated, very alone in a group of people. It is like I am no longer a member of the human race, I am now outside of it. I feel sadness that I no longer feel part of a friendly group, and they have no idea. If I said anything to them I don’t think they would know how to deal with it, such is the problem with society.
Handbagwarrior; verbal ramblings 
