I was down at Barrhill today to the cemetery. It's been 2 months since I last visited Allan's grave; the last time I was down was for Allan's birthday, and had my niece with me. Today I was alone for the first time... I picked up the flowers from the same florist who did Allan's funeral arrangement. Three dozen roses; two dozen red, one dozen yellow. I thought it would be nice to bring flowers for my lovely Allan and some for Jean, Allan's Mum. After all, I wouldn't have had the chance to have loved Allan had Jean not given him to me to care for and cherish for the time we had together. What a beautiful summer day! The drive down was normal, nothing unusual at all. When I approached the edges of the village, the tears started to well up and I couldn't hold them back; they were tears of frustration, anger and grief. The road up to the cemetery is pretty poor, lots of potholes and the like. However, once I got to the cemetery I had calmed down a wee bit. I took all my cloths, water and mild detergent to wash and dry the headstone. I was sitting on the grass, working away at cleaning when a woman pulled up in a car. I'd say she was about 70, and she passed the time of day with me. Then she stopped and during the conversation she told me she knew the family and of course she knew Allan; her family had the local garage. She asked how I'd known Allan and I proudly told her that Allan was my husband, my partner. She said she knew Allan was gay and had wondered where he'd moved to. Then there followed the conversation where I told her all that had happened to my man and she remarked that Allan was a kind hearted man, and it was a shame that he had died in such awful circumstances. She was up visitng her husband's grave, but she didn't stay long because she found it very upsetting. Once again alone with my man, I sat on the grass and chatted away with him, updating him on what had been going on. Then I told him how lost I was without him, how my life goes on, sometimes interminably. I told him I wanted to be with him, and how on this sunny day if I was going to be here in the cemetery it should have been because the two of us were visiting his Mum's grave, not me on my own visiting his last resting place. Oh how I cried and wailed and begged Allan to come back, or at least talk to me, give me a sign that there will be a future for us in another time and place. But you stayed silent, or was it just me who couldn't hear you? I noticed that Allan's headstone seemed to be the only one being cleaned and washed on a regular basis. That's such a shame. If only it were closer, I'd be there every week at least cleaning and looking after Allan's final resting place, just as I would have looked after him had he still been alive. I know that I'm the only one who cares about that Allan. I promised him I'd love him for ever and I will. These visits are not a duty I would have chosen, because of the implications. But you know, I want to do this small thing for my Allan, my joy, my life, my Love! I hope you like the flowers, both of you. They are sent with love, with gratitude and with a message of eternal love, of hope and of peace.