Me: Sorry I called you an old man the other day, Ants.
Anthony: Perfectly understandable, Jules.
Me: Bev is back!
Anthony: You have it the wrong way around, Jules. Bev never disappeared; you did.
Me: Did I?
Anthony: It is my fault. You abandoned friendships, and even Ming, in lieu of caring for me.
Me: Did I?
Anthony: You are still doing it Jules. Ask Ming.
![38804506_1792564927464489_8042694005449818112_n[1]](https://jmgoyder.files.wordpress.com/2018/08/38804506_1792564927464489_8042694005449818112_n1.jpg?w=630)
Me: Today, I had some rather wonderful visits with people who have dementia.
Anthony: What is the point, Jules? They have all lost their marbles.
Me: So did you!
Anthony: Rubbish!
Me: Okay, whatever you say.
Anthony: Why are you crying?
Me: Because I miss your sarcasm so much, Ants.
Anthony: Do you have to hug and kiss them so much, Jules?
Me: Please say you are not jealous, Ants, because that would be ridiculous. Anyway, I only do the hugging/kissing thing casually and tend to just put my arm around a shoulder here and there.
Anthony: That sounds reasonable.
Me: I wish you were still here to advise me like you always did before, about my toomuchness.
Anthony: You have the Ming for that, Jules.
Anthony: We must stop meeting like this.
Me: Oh, very funny.
Anthony: What’s up?
Me: Well, you know how I used to always remember the anniversary of my dad’s death?
Anthony: I remember your tears, I remember you always rang your mother, and I remember you being in a filthy mood and I didn’t know what was wrong….
Me: ….and then I’d tell you and you would be so compassionate and beautiful and nonplussed.
Anthony: Why have you always remembered June 9, your father’s deathday, and not his birthday?
Me: Maybe I’m morbid. Anyway, why are you cross-examining me?
Anthony: Morbid curiosity? By the way, his birthday is in April and I know this for a fact.
Me: Okay, so what date exactly? I’m ahead of you because I just messaged my Meg.
Anthony: Just a moment, Jules. I need to talk to the man himself.
Me: This is ridiculous, Ants! How am I expected to believe that you, John Wayne, and now my dad, Brinsley Lane, are all in cahoots?
Anthony: We all like chess?
Me: Well, I know my dad liked chess but you never even touched that extremely expensive marble chess set I gave you on your birthday in….
Anthony: Jules?
Me: What now?
Anthony: Dairy farmers don’t play chess.
Me: Oh.
Anthony: Brin’s birthday was the 10th of April. Four days ago marks the 40th anniversary of his sudden death of a heart attack at the age of 57 when he reluctantly left your mother a young widow, and you teenage kids without a dad.
Me: How is he, Ants?
Anthony: Put it this way, Jules; I thought I loved you but this guy, Brin, your dad, loves you more.
Anthony: It’s understandable, Jules.
Me: I’ve been putting it off for two reasons: one is I didn’t want to do this last final thing because I wanted something to look forward to. I know that sounds bizarre but there is something quite lovely about picking out a headstone and figuring out the inscription. I didn’t want that to be over with.
Anthony: What’s the other reason?
Me: Just talking with the monument people via email was okay to begin with, then I started feeling a bit sick, you know, bargaining about the price.
Anthony: You’re right to bargain!
Me: Do you like the colour Ming and I chose?
Anthony: It’s quite striking – yes.
Me: Okay so ruby red granite it is. I’m going to the monument place on Monday. I’m a bit worried that I might get really emotional or else that I might just feel numb.
Anthony: You’ll take it all in your stride, Jules. Hold your head up and smile and pretend I’m with you.
Me: That’s a good idea.
Anthony: Once it’s done, you can bring the cross with my name on it home.
Me: Yeah, I thought the same. It’s still stuck in the mound on your grave. I had no idea it took so long for the dirt to settle.
Anthony: I didn’t know that either.
Me: I thought I’d be visiting your grave all the time but I haven’t. I mean I don’t get any sensation of you being there anyway – not really.
Anthony: I’m not there, Jules – it’s just my old bones now.
Me: I hate thinking about that!
Anthony: Well it’s true.
Me: I’ve had a few bad days of missing you, Ants. I wish I could have a hug.
Anthony: Maybe you could use that imagination of yours to be hugged by me whenever anyone else hugs you.
Me: Okay, I’ll try that. Ming’s a pretty good hugger.
Anthony: That’s my boy.
Me: I want part of the inscription to read “The most beautiful man in the world”. What do you think?
Anthony: I think you are prone to exaggeration.
Me: Ming loves the idea.
Anthony: Does he?
Me: He feels the same way.
Anthony: Now you’ve made my day!
Me: That settles that, then. I think I can face Monday now.
Anthony: You’ll be fine, Jules.
Me: Okay, I’ll take your word for it.
Anthony: Can’t you sleep?
Me: No, it’s the third time in a week. I mean it’s still only midnight but the last couple of times, it was almost 4am before I felt tired enough to go to bed.
Anthony: That’s no good, Jules.
Me: I don’t really mind. It’s not anxiety or anything. I guess I’ll just watch Netflix.
Anthony: You like your thrillers don’t you.
Me: Yep.
Anthony: Well don’t stay up too late or you’ll look haggard when you get up.
Me: Haggard? What do you mean by haggard!
Anthony: I overheard you talking to your mother about how you were worried about looking so haggard after my demise.
Me: Yeah, but I was telling her that my phase of worrying about looking haggard was over and now that I don’t worry about it, I don’t seem to look haggard anymore – weird. See, here is me with A. today. I don’t look so bad after all. I don’t even mind the wrinkles now.
Anthony: Well, the kid’s cute. He suits you. Maybe you should have another baby.
Me: Droll.
Anthony: Do you ever wish we’d had another one?
Me: Every now and then but Ming is enough.
Anthony: My thoughts exactly.
Me: He is pretty wonderful. The other day he said to me, “Hey, Mum, let’s have another look at you,” as I was heading out. So I turned back and he said, “You look great!”
Anthony: Sounds like the kind of thing I would say.
Me: He says that kind of thing every single day.
Anthony: Are you sure all this vanity is good for you?
Me: Well it beats the hell out of running, panic-stricken, away from the bathroom mirror.
Anthony: I notice you haven’t replace the fluorescent light in there.
Me: Mmmm.
Anthony: Don’t forget all the complimentary things I said to you, will you.
Me: Like….?
Anthony: I recall calling you a gorgeous creature more than once.
Me: Not sure about the creature bit.
Anthony: You know what I mean.
Me: I sometimes miss the way you lit up when I arrived at the nursing home.
Anthony: Now you’re really flattering yourself.
Me: But you did! Even the nurses said so.
Anthony: I put a lot of effort into that.
Me: What rot. You were overjoyed every time and you’d always think that it was magic, and that you’d somehow conjured me up.
Anthony: Poor old fool.
Me: No, you were a beautiful old fool.
Anthony: Thanks.
Me: You know what I mean.
Anthony: One thing though….
Me: Yes?
Anthony: You do need lipstick.
Me: OMG, the feminists will be onto you.
Anthony: But it’s true.
Me: I’ll have to ponder that.
Anthony: Do that. Pondering is something I’ve become quite good at and I think you’d like it.
Me: That’s quite profound actually, Ants.
Anthony: I ponder to please.
Me: (Smiling)
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