It's exactly one year since Mike took his own life. Almost to the minute as I write this.
Today I will be working to arrange a surprise party for Bren's 60'th birthday. She knows we're doing something but doesn't know the specifics.
We have not been back to the burial site since his funeral. Bren's way of dealing with it, and my way of respecting her wishes.
It's hard to think about but the physicality of death comes into my mind every time I think about Mike.
What's left of him now?
Life is about consciousness. The body is just a chalice, or a cage. If you're not thinking, you're not living, although there are potatoes that might disagree.
He died, and what there was of him went from something to nothing, or something to something else, if you believe that there is something after something.
Yet I dwell upon the physical realities. Is he just bones yet? He didn't have a lot of hair. I don't know about his pubes. What else is there? Fingernails teeth and toenails I suppose. Those already partially mineralised bits of us.
People that believe in the hereafter don't believe that an afterlife prevents decomposition. We Transcend.
I bought her some flowers this evening. Not because of Mike. Because she's got restless legs, and she can't get to sleep at night, and is so utterly tired and worn out all the time.
We're getting old. She more than me. And I love her. And I want somehow to make life better for her if I can.
driving lessons in North Wirral? learn to drive in Hoylake? driving instructor in Birkenhead?