I feel it every day, sometimes in the late afternoon, sometimes in the evening. When the temporary cover and protection of human interaction and company is lifted, then descends an overwhelming sense of emptiness and sadness and the only thing I can do is toughen it out, till the morning comes and spreads its light around the room.

And then I think, “Goodness me, what I have to complain about?” Countless others spend their lives living alone not by choice or design while I, of all people, have experienced such rich blessings in the extravagant love and care which has surrounded me over these past few months. Sometimes, and often in surprising ways, individuals who I would least expect have reached out in a beautiful and touching ways, have sympathised and understood. At a concert recently, across the hall, I spotted a couple I knew. They spotted me too. I could not pretend I knew them well or that we had been in touch all that much, but they found their way through the crowd and the memory of that embrace still warms my heart.

Having the company of others who sympathise is such a wonderful thing and something to be treasured. It can be a balm for a still sore wound. It forgets the loss and distracts from the pain. But it is temporary and it can never replace the constancy of companionship. A companion shares the journey, the good the bad, the ups, the downs, the excitement and the ordinary. A companion shares the hopes, challenges the assumptions and diverts you from the destructive path of self-importance and self-indulgence.  A companion takes you out of yourself because you are no longer two but one.

A companion is for the journey.