jmgoyder

Today would have been Anthony’s 87th birthday. Since he died, over six years ago, I have missed him to the point of sobbing (yesterday).

I have forgotten all about him. And then I remember and feel a sickening guilt.

I have created an imaginary dialogue with him on this blog.

I have tried to create a new life-without-Anthony for myself.

And I have been able to see how Ming is, in so many ways, his father’s son, especially in terms of kindness.

Grief is the weirdest thing: it hits you when you least expect it (automatically buying Anthony’s favourite cheese in the supermarket); bumping into an old friend who didn’t know he had died; the latest photo of our first grandchild who Anthony will never see ….

…. but there is also a joyful component to grief I guess, in that the person you miss so much was the most wonderful person ever.

Happy birthday, Ants