Post 363: Reality bites.
Another tired eyed start to the day but it was nice but breezy outside.
I grabbed my notebook and set out on a journey of discovery.
The Aviva form had been emailed and I was still waiting for a price for that holiday in north Kent, without success.
So taking the withdrawal form first, the cover letter was clear and below it a was an attached file, which I opened.
The formatting of this docx file was lost on my phone and Apple pc so I gave my son the file to see if he could help but also, proactively, decided to use the chat facility on the insurers web-page.
Up popped an AI voice so I asked what I wanted and received a “computer can’t help” reply followed by the interesting response of the query being passed over to a human.
Brilliant.
Within 15 mins I had explained the issue of the dodgy formatting, received a pdf formatted file by email and found that to be 95% satisfactory and said goodbye.
This led to me briefly printing out the five pages that will, when signed, and returned to HQ be the way in which my private pension drawdown would be completed in entirety and the asset will not be subject to any income tax (due to my life being less than a year remaining).
It wasn’t until I had filled the form and given it to the surgery for my GP to sign the bit they needed to.
We shall see if and when this could be done.
I slowly walked up to the cafe past where my Darling was parking and after she got out the car we, hand in hand walked on and found some seats after ordering myself a decaf latte and a jacket spud and salad. Delish!
And while my Darling had her usual — I cried…
Quietly while the coffee was delivered I continued to cry.
I had a massive attack of sadness due to the twelve months I have (possibly) left on this planet with its colour and beauty, its frustrations and pain.
Oh Lordy! The tears just sneaked down my face worsened by my Darlings hand now on mine and her facial expressions so worried.
Mr U is suffering on the inside and at times the reality bites hard.
Later when we got home and we were watching the end of a huge saga of an episodic American drama of life in a Colorado valley, I received an email regarding the now two choices of Disabled holiday lets for four nights for £650 ish English pounds.
Now where I don’t have a problem with costs when related to ideal hosting cottages or static caravans, in the cold light of day a self catering four night stay is not cheap.
I forwarded the costs to my Darling so later she can peruse the details.
We continued to watch tv into the evening and held hands while I ate a bit more ostrich egg.
I went to bed without tears but my whole body was aching and I was so glad to be alone.
My head has taken a hit mentally and I need to do the day by day better, and leave the future where it is, in the future far away.
I don’t like my dwindling life but realise that I don’t need to dwell on it. I know that.
Each day as it comes.
Breathe in the spring air, it is lovely — when the rain stops.
Good night. Sleep tight. Think and dream good things.
Take care
