**Monday, 22nd April**
I’m 58, and though I live alone, I don’t feel lonely. My husband and I parted ways years ago, and since then, I’ve come to cherish my independence. My only son, Edward—he’s thirty now—brings so much joy into my life. We’ve always been close, and even after he married Charlotte last year, nothing changed between us. He rings me often, and we chat for hours, laughing over shared memories. Charlotte’s been a blessing—warm-hearted, kind, and genuine. I’m glad my boy found someone like her.
I live in a snug little house on the outskirts of Bath. It’s peaceful here, with a small garden I fuss over—growing flowers and the odd vegetable. It’s my little escape. The neighbours are lovely; we pop round for tea and gossip now and then. Sometimes I joke that my life’s like a telly drama—never short of a story to tell.
I used to work as an accountant, but retirement’s given me time for myself. I love curling up with a book—crime novels and romances, mostly—or rewatching old films that take me back. Knitting’s another passion—scarves, jumpers, socks for Edward and Charlotte. They tease me about spoiling them, but I see the appreciation in their smiles.
There are moments, of course, when nostalgia creeps in—memories of my youth, first love, dreams I once shared with my husband. But I don’t linger in sadness. Life’s taught me resilience. The divorce was hard, but I don’t regret it—it freed me to be myself. These days, I see each morning as a fresh chance. I’ve even signed up for French lessons—fancy a holiday abroad, perhaps. Edward insists I’ve more energy than women half my age.
He’s my pride, that boy. A engineer, driven and responsible. I’ve always made sure he could talk to me about anything—work, plans, even his worries. His wedding day was pure joy—all laughter and dancing, the newlyweds glowing. Charlotte’s slotted into our family so naturally, and I’m grateful for her kindness.
I do think about the future. Grandchildren, perhaps, though I’d never rush Edward and Charlotte—they’ve time enough. For now, I’m content with my quiet rhythm, finding happiness in the small things: Edward’s grin, a cuppa with a friend, the first daffodil in spring. My heart’s full—how could I feel alone?
Life’s an adventure, and I’m grateful for every chapter. There’s so much ahead—maybe even a dog, since Edward keeps hinting I need “company.” Who knows? For now, I’m just thankful—for my son, for love, and for the little joys each day brings.
