jmgoyder

wings and things

You used to be tall: Imagined conversation 63

Me: Ming mentioned the other day that you were short and I was surprised because, when we first met, you were tall – well tall-ish.

Anthony: I was magnificent.

Me: Yes, I think you’ve already said that a few times. Anyway, I found this old photo of you from when you weren’t bent over, and I love it! I think it was before my time but I am not sure.

Anthony: It was well before your time, Jules.

Me: The side-burns are a bit off-putting.

Anthony: I have been thinking about growing them back.

Me: Nah.

Anthony at Ulupna

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Having a laugh in the midst of grief: Imagined conversation 62

Anthony: I really liked what you wrote yesterday.

Me: Why, thank you, kind sir!

Anthony: The Boney M clip was wonderful.

Me: I knew you would appreciate that. I wish now that I had thought to play it to you in the nursing home. Oh well – the benefit of hindsight and all that.

Anthony: Yes, I did get a little tired of The Office, especially the American version.

Me: I know. Sorry about that but I loved it and it was a brilliant way of passing the hours in the nursing home. I would give anything now to be sitting next to you, holding your hand while you dozed, or stared, mystified, at a millionth episode of The Office, eating olives and sipping wine on a sunny Sunday like today. Or else, chatting with my mother as she did her hairpin lace, both of us on either side of you, our chatter inevitably putting you to sleep.

Anthony: She really did love me, that mother of yours, even though I broke your heart when you were still just a kid of 18. And then broke it again.

Me: Again?

Anthony: By dying.

Me: Oh, I see what you mean. Yes, she really did love you. To begin with, no. I am quite sure both of my parents were appalled that their innocent, teenage daughter had fallen for a middle-aged man who was at the opposite end of the spectrum of their belief system, Christianity. If I recall correctly, you were a self-declared atheist and, as a rather evangelical adolescent, I convinced you that an agnostic stance might be safer. We did have some rather heated theological discussions.

Anthony: Yes, I slipped into Heaven via the back door.

Me: What?

Anthony: Just kidding, Jules!

Me: One of things that most fascinates me about grief is the fact that it is, actually, really fascinating. I can watch that Boney M clip and cry and laugh in the same moment; I can remember the first moment I saw you and the last moment I saw you as if 40 years of knowing each other is a single, resonating clash of unexpected harmony. Now that you have been dead for nearly a year, I love you just as much as I did when you were still alive.

Anthony: I have never quite understood how your mind works, Jules, but if it is of any comfort, I miss you too.

Me: In just a few days it will be the first anniversary of your death which is so weird because it feels like it was just the other day. I am not quite sure what I am supposed to do on this day. Do I go somewhere – away? Ming has asked me the same question – should we go out for breakfast? What do you do on a deathday? August itself has paralysed me somewhat, Ants, which I did NOT anticipate. I feel like I am at some sort of event where you have to choose between various PTSD showbags!

Anthony: I will be having a similar day, Jules. I think it would be a good idea to simply have a nap.

Me: Okay. I just want to get to September and out of August.

Anthony: Perfectly understandable, Jules; after all, I was your knight in shining armour.

Me: You were also a horribly cruel, heart-breaking bastard! Remember our first argument, underneath the clothesline just after my dad died, and I called you a selfish pig?

Anthony: Shhhh! I am in Heaven now and I do not want to jeopardise that.

Me: I am so glad that we figured out it was a family farm, financial situation and not personal. 57-year-old bachelors do not usually get married. I think the expectation was for you to leave your inheritance to either your siblings or nieces and nephews.

Anthony: Why are you bringing this up now?

Me: Because I am not afraid any more of the backlash after we announced our engagement. I was so naïve then! You were so wonderfully brave (although I did wonder why we were taking a case of champagne to accompany our engagement announcement). This is hilarious in retrospect!

Anthony: Bravo, Jules!

Me: When I look back at that scene, champagne flowing, beaming expressions on every single face, I am amazed at what happened next.

Anthony: And…?

Me: Well, the funny/paradoxical thing is I actually do not care anymore about the person who hurt you most and I wish I had developed this ability to be indifferent earlier in my life.

Anthony: Make peace, not war.

Me: I thought the saying was more like, make love, not war, via John Lennon? Your roomie?

Anthony: There is no need to stoke old coals, Jules.

Me: Why do you not want me to tell the truth, Ants?

Anthony: Because I am already dead anyway. It does not matter!

Me: Okay….

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Anthony: Have a laugh, Jules!

Me: Good idea!

 

 

 

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Daddy Cool

I received an email this week, from the funeral directors, reminding me that it was nearly a year since Anthony died and offering links to grief counselling etc. I thought this was rather lovely as it affirmed that my August anxiety issues are perfectly normal – phew! There is nothing quite like being reassured that your abnormal behaviour is actually normal….

Anyway, in remembering the blur of my funeral arrangements, I recall being somewhat disappointed that my choice of exit music/song wasn’t played louder as the funeral ended. It was the Boney M 1979 version of the song Daddy Cool; and, at the time, I was 20 and he was 43. We were just best friends (all the romantic stuff happened much later) but we both loved Boney M.

I probably posted the link to this song last year but here it is again. Risqué, full of innuendo, hilarious, and wonderfully mischievous, this song catches a glimpse of the Anthony I fell in love with, and the daddy cool who Ming never met.

https://www.bing.com/videos/search?q=Daddy+Daddy+Who+Cool&&view=detail&mid=EBB60415B4807E19572CEBB60415B4807E19572C&&FORM=VRDGAR

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Imagined conversation 61

Me: Thank you.

Anthony: That sounds a bit foreboding.

Me: I am so grateful, Ants.

Anthony: That sounds a bit final, Jules.

Me: You have listened, and even responded, to my grief-stricken ramblings with your back-to-the-futuristic voice with such patience.

Anthony: Your voice, actually…. and I have all the time in the world.

Me: But….

Anthony: A minor detail.

Me: You don’t even sound like you anymore. You sound fake.

Anthony: I am doing the best I can under the circumstances….

Me: Since you died, five of my friends have also lost loved ones, so I am learning about the multi-faceted nature of grief. Two sisters have lost their mother, two wives have lost their husbands and one husband has lost his wife

Anthony: Not lost, Jules. I have located all of them and they are lovely group of people.

Me: Oh I suppose you are now going to tell me they’ve joined your fictitious volleyball team or something else trite.

Anthony: Angels make very good umpires; trust me.

Me: Grief is not self-pity, trust me. It is a bit like an adventure into the unknown.

Anthony: So that’s a good thing, isn’t it?

Me: I guess so but it is such hard work; it can be absolutely debilitating. I had such a handle on the anticipatory grief but no way of knowing how it would be once you had actually died.

Anthony: I know you hate clichés but why not just go with the flow?

Me: If I did that, I would just stay in bed forever. I have to fight this rotten grief; it is just as exhausting as trying to go with the flow – so frustrating!

Anthony: What does Ming say?

Me: He emits pearls of wisdom the way you always did,; he lets me cry into his shoulder if I am in crying mode, like last night – argh; and he admires what you and I had/have in terms of love.

Anthony: I couldn’t have dreamt of a better son.

Me: I am so proud.

Anthony: So am I.

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Imagined conversation 60

Anthony: I thought we weren’t going to have these talks any more.

Me: You sound hurt.

Anthony: Not hurt exactly, more nonplussed.

Me: It is all the details of death that prevent any finality and, yeah, that dreadful word, closure.

Anthony: Like what?

Me: Like the stupid Probate thing – registering – via our lawyer, your Will to the Supreme Court – to prove that I am your beneficiary, executor, wife etc.

Anthony: So how are your inherited paddocks?

Me: Oh, swimmingly, Ants – the rain has been relentless! Anyway, I need some photo ID of you for this probate process and all I can find is a very scary portrait of you on an out-dated passport.

Anthony: Why is it scary?

Me: You look like a thug!

Anthony: So what happens next?

Me: Apparently, once we get past this probate thing, I will become officially entitled to everything – the house, land, your shares, your holiday house in Bermuda – everything!

Anthony: I thought you thought sarcasm was the lowest form of wit, Jules.

Me: And I thought death was simple, Ants. How could I have possibly anticipated the amount of red tape that would surround your death, or the length of time if would take for this probate thing?

Anthony: I am so sorry, Jules!

Me: Why? Not your fault but I tell you what, Ants, I am getting things clearly written and legal-easy for Ming in case I die sooner rather than later. You never know.

Anthony: You never know what is around the corner.

Me: You used to say that to me all the time in a funny way!

Anthony: Jules?

Me: Yes, oh wise one?

Anthony: Tell Ming that it is all going to be splendid.

Me: Okay. I will. And if it is all right with you, I would like to continue these conversations every now and then, for awhile.

Anthony: Good idea and I am relieved..

Me: Me too, Ants. I love you so much!

Anthony: And the whole of Heaven heaves for you too, Jules.

Me: Bleah!

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Photo taken before Ants got really sick – maybe 2007?

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Imagined conversation 59

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.

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Imagined conversation 57

Anthony: I know.

Me: I really hoped that August might not affect me, but it has.

Anthony: Nearly a year since I last saw you.

Me: Those last 24 hours of your life haunt me now because I worry, all over again, about whether you were suffering. Eight hours in the hospital on a trolley, waiting for I am not sure what now! You were barely conscious and I was probably nearly fracturing your hand by holding it for so long.

Anthony: I remember.

Me: My worst memory is, having asked you if you were okay over and over again, you shook your head, no. That is when I began to realise things were bad because for so many years of me asking if you were okay, you would always say. Fit as a fiddle. And it wasn’t my decision to ambulance you to hospital, Ants; it was taken out of my hands. I am so sorry!

Anthony: Jules, the hospital hours are forgotten to me. All I remember is you getting the ambulance to take me back to the nursing home so that I could die in my own bed. That was a blessing.

Me: Did you know you were going to die then, Ants?

Anthony: No, and I am so sorry it was so fast, Jules.

Me: Ming understands my troubled state and even predicted August might be hard for me.

Anthony: Ming understands a whole lot more than that, Jules!

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Photo: Courtesy of Mandy Goyder

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Imagined conversation 56

DSCN0928Me: 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.

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Imagined conversation 54

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Me: I know you’re probably a bit sick of me talking about your headstone (I know Ming is!) but I do feel a sense of relief to have at least begun the process.

Anthony: I’m not sick of it at all, Jules. I really enjoy our conversations about me.

Me: Oh, okay … you are unbelievable!

Anthony: I think your choice of ruby red granite shows extremely good taste.

Me: So did you check it out?

Anthony: It reminds me of the time I chose the colour red for the Aga.

Me: Yes – me too! I mean it reminds me of the Aga. What about the white lettering? I know you love white so….

Anthony: Perfect.

Me: It was so interesting chatting with the company’s representative, as we roamed around the cemetery, because she showed me details I might otherwise have missed.

Anthony: And?

Me: I told her that you liked clean lines even though you were a bit rough around the edges yourself. I told her that you were a bit of a paradox.

Anthony: You flatter me.

Me: That wasn’t a compliment, Ants.

Anthony: What does Ming think?

Me: Sorry to disappoint you, Ants, but I don’t think Ming could care less at the moment. He is busy, very busy, with his two jobs and his quest.

Anthony: What quest?

Me: I think he is looking for the kind of love we had, Ants.

Anthony: Ah, that explains a lot; he is searching for the impossible….

Me: And the implausible?

Anthony: Ming is MING – he is unapologetically himself always. I’ve never seen anything like it!

Me: I know, Ants, and I often wonder how we produced a son who has more strength of character then either of us ever had.

Anthony: You don’t have to always figure everything out, Jules, especially when it comes to Ming.

Me: Ming is the best, most genuine, person in my life, Ants, and he cares about me.

Anthony: Let Ming go, Jules – let him find his own way and stop interfering.

Me: Okay.

 

 

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Imagined conversation 53

Me: I did it!

Anthony: You did what?

Me: I met with a monument person at the cemetery and she was so lovely!

Anthony: But I thought you and Ming weren’t going to bother.

Me: Yeah, but I was seduced by the ruby red granite and the idea of white lettering – all guaranteed for at least five years. Also, if I die, Ming can get the message altered quite easily to include me too, even if I am cremated.

Anthony: This sounds quite complicated, Jules. How much is this going to cost?

Me: It depends on the wording: if I just put “Anthony Goyder 1936-2017” it will be relatively cheap because you pay per each letter.

Anthony: Just do that then, Jules.

Me: No way, Ants! I am going to write our story on your tombstone.

Anthony: Please, Jules, don’t!

Me: I was just kidding, Ants! Now that you are dead, there is no hurry for anything.

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