Me: How come there’s water all over the floor? Did you tip your drink out again?
Anthony: Yes, because everybody is dead.
Anthony: This is a funeral home.
Me: No way! This is a nursing home – remember?
Anthony: All of the kids ….
Me: Are they still bothering you?
Anthony: I had to fight one last night.
Me: Did you win?
Anthony: Half and a quarter….
Me: Good on you, Ants! They won’t be bothering you again, I’m sure.
Anthony: Well come on, Jules – let’s go.
Anthony: Around the block.
Me: Which block? The farm or the nursing home?
Anthony: The rose garden.
Me: What rose garden?
Anthony: Along the driveway!
Me: It’s too rainy and cold, Ants – sorry. Maybe tomorrow?
The last several weeks have been a bit of a challenge for me because my anxious/depressive tendencies roared into my brain – WHAMMO! – when I mistakenly thought Ants was on the brink of death. I don’t want the knife edge of that grief again and am hoping that I am now better prepared.
Me: I saw an advertisement on TV the other day about cremation versus burial. What do you reckon? You know what I mean? For both of us of course.
Anthony: It’s far too early to think about that.
Me: Okay, Ants.
Anthony: There’s something ….
Me: Is it to do with my exquisite face?
Anthony: I wouldn’t go that far.
Anthony: But it’s quite nice, I suppose.