I wrote the above yesterday. Today, at 11.15am I was in a car and when I put on the radio, it was BBC 5 Live coming from St Paul's Cathedral. I stopped and listened to the rest of the service and the chat afterwards. I cried.
I felt so sad, but my memory matches to the emotions felt and subsequent thoughts were numerous.
1. I am proud to be a Londoner. The attack was on my city and its people. A wonderful, cosmopolitan city.
2. I travel through Kings Cross and Edgware Road nearly every month. I know those streets and tube lines.
3. I am a news junkie and yet hearing so much from ten years ago, made me realise how much I missed by just not being aware of what was going on.
4. I walked through Tavistock Square last week. It was a sunny, hot afternoon. The small park was full of happy people and innocent children running through the fountains.
5. I had forgotten until last night, that five years ago today was my father's funeral, whose life was complex and intrusive into my own for over 60 years.
But mainly and overwhelmingly, I feel almost haunted by that beautiful, happy, perfect day on the beach in Rockcliffe. I am grieving. Grieving for the loss of innocence and the loss of ten more years of life.
But at least I've had a life in those ten years.