I stare out at the grass. Wind is sending small ripples of movement through it and along with it in an almost rhythmic motion the leaves move on the trees. My wicker chair rocks back and forth, but even this repetitive movement fails to lull me to sleep. The sun is low on the horizon and the gold colour that is being cast across the yard impresses upon me as though it's a scene from heaven. I stare at the tree house up in the old oak tree and watch Lucia and Sammy playing with their Barbies. There is only the sound of the faint summer zephyr stirring the plants and the happy chatter from the girls. It's so peaceful and I don't think I can take it. I stop my tears from welling up. I've been crying for three days straight and I didn't think I could possibly cry any more but I've just proven myself wrong. I'm sitting up here so lonely and wanting nothing more than to join my Taylor.

He was my soul mate in the true sense of the word. Sixty-four years together and now he's been taken from me and I don't know what to do now. I can almost feel him sitting here next to me on the porch telling me to go on and to enjoy myself. Telling me that now I'm free of the burden of looking after him in his state of incapability. But as much as he couldn't do anything for himself I enjoyed being at his side. A bad case of the flu had weakened him so much that he had been bedridden for these last three months. We had caught up and said all we had wanted to say. I spent so many nights crying at his bedside while he was asleep, just wondering when he would pass on. Even at this old age I loved him as much and if not more than I did when I was just twenty-five. I remember those days fondly but I realise that they're not the true tests of a relationship. Taylor and I had to face some hard times, not just with our children, not just with external circumstances but also between us. And not once did we not pull through.

I reach out to his rocker chair and have to stop myself from crying out in pain. I want to feel his soft, wrinkled skin or the rough material of his shirt. The plain blue collared one he had adored so much. But all I can feel underneath my hand is the braided wicker. I stare down at my black skirt. Georgina commented yesterday how well I was coping and how dignified I've been through the whole time. I've kept myself so busy since he died on Tuesday because I don't want time to think about it because I'm so scared I'll just fall apart, crawl up in bed and never appear to the world again. And I just know if I did that he'd be so disappointed in me, but I don't think I can bare to do any different.

What am I going to do without him? I remember when my dad passed away and feeling this feeling of absolute utter desolation but that doesn't compare to the feeling I'm feeling now. I've always wanted to go to Norway and to Japan and I remember telling Taylor we'd go together when we were old. We never did get to go to those countries. But for all of the places we didn't go we sure did go to a tonne of others. I smile back, thinking to our honeymoon. He had rented a whole private island in the Seychelles and we spent two blissful weeks there. I remember feeling a feeling of absolute certainty when I saw him standing in his tuxedo when we were to get married. And utter joy when I told him I was pregnant.

I remember the feeling of despair when he told me he was in love with him. I had wanted no one other than him all my life and when I had convinced myself that I could do without him, I could settle than less for him he had to come out and tell me he felt something for me. When I saw him though after that disastrous date with my boyfriend...what was his name? Asher, that's it...lying asleep on the couch I knew that I would be so content with him. I would never need anyone but Taylor. And I still feel like that now. I feel like I never will need anyone but Taylor - however there's one small obstacle in my way. Taylor's dead.

I briefly consider those couples that die within days of their spouse dying and I think that I've lived my life to the fullest. My kids have grown up now; they've kids of their own, what more is there to do. Our grandchildren�my grandchildren are running up to me, smiling sweetly, "Nonna," Lucia smiles at me, "Don't be sad," she hands me a small bouquet of daisies she's picked from the garden. She beams at me, the gesture lighting up her face, she looks angelical and she looks so much like Taylor. I can't help but smile and tilt her forehead towards mine and place a kiss on her forehead. I feel Taylor inside me and I can almost see him hovering above her head and placing a hand on my shoulder.

A release comes from within me. He is waiting for me, I just know he is.

"Mama, come inside, you'll get a cold," Max calls from the back door. I walk inside to join my children, my grandchildren, my family.

He's waiting for me.