Deaf Girly's quilt of memories

This week I have a very important to-do list and it goes like this:

• Watch Grand Designs while drinking a beer
• Dance around the flat to Flashdance
• Iron badly
• Cook inedible boiled potatoes and eat them with lashings of Ketchup and pie
• Peer through all the windows at dusk of the houses of people who leave their curtains open
• Cook perfect basmati rice
• Fall asleep when I should be doing chores
• Seek out Gilbert & George
• Play a Fender guitar
• Cycle through London
• Speak Spanish
• Get someone to buy me a weekly travelcard
• Wander through Soho in the early hours
• Go drinking in a roof-top bar in Covent Garden
• Build a houseful of flatpack furniture

You see, when someone leaves your life, they don't just leave behind a gaping hole – although that is the thing that seems to dominate the horizon for a long time afterwards – they leave behind this amazing patchwork of experiences and memories and each person that knew them has their own quilt of them.

This is my quilt. It's well worn and loved. It's treasured and cared for. I feel lucky to have it and be able to share it.

I feel lucky it was ever made at all…