Dear Diary

Another birthday gone without you, it seems impossible that I’ve reached 90. So many years have gone by. When we got married in 1957 I was full of expectations,a  happy marriage, good  life and lots of children. The children never happened but in those days you just carried on there was no IVF or chance of adopting, you just had to live with the disappointment. That said I have plenty of Godchildren, they were a joy to look after and during my dark times they cherished me like their own mum. 

We’d only been married 20 years when you passed away. You went out on our little boat to do some fishing and never came home. The police said it was a tragic accident, you had drunk several cans of beer and you obviously lost your balance and fell overboard. Fishermen found the boat the next day but there was no sign of you. Your body was never found so we had a memorial service for you and scattered some flowers on the water.

Life continued, I’ve never married again though I have had plenty of offers. Your life insurance helped me to live a good life. I stayed in the home we brought together, worked on the garden, grew vegetables which I sold at the local market and made a quiet area where I could sit and reflect with my daily glass of sherry. All very pleasant really.

This might be my last entry for a while as I’m not sure what is going to happen next. I sold our house and moved into Grantley Manor Carehome 6 months ago and have loved being with all my new friends but I suppose I knew my past would catch up with me eventually. They found your bones underneath the vegetable patch, all these years you have been fertilising the food I sold. I don’t regret what I did, you were an abusive husband, when you were drunk you beat me, the next day you would apologise, tell me you loved me and that you would never do it again. After 20 years of this (I’m so glad we didn’t have children) I snapped. You started beating me again and I grabbed the first thing to hand, a knife. I only stabbed you once, you died on the kitchen floor. I went into automatic mode, I’d been working on the vegetable patch so decided the best place to hide your body was in the ground. Our garden wasn’t overlooked so it was easy for me to put you in the wheelbarrow, take you down the garden and bury you. I then took a trip down to where the boat was moored, put your fishing gear onboard along with some empty cans then let the sea take the boat away. You were known as a drunk so nobody questioned what had happened.

So dear diary it is time for me to face the music, the police have just arrived.