jmgoyder

wings and things

Imagined conversation 81

Me: Well, here we are, Ants. This is the last of our public conversations.

Anthony: Has it helped?

Me: Yes, it has helped me to talk to you better in my head; it has helped me to see how grief can be a gift (my mother said that); and it has helped me to be grateful for what we had rather than dwelling on what we lost when you died.

Anthony: You are a champion, Jules.

Me: Yes, I know.

Anthony: So what are you going to do now?

Me: I am going to put our 81 imagined conversations into book form and look for a publisher, Ants. It makes sense to stop at 81 because you will never be 82.

Anthony: So morbid!

Me: Not at all!

Anthony: You were the best thing, most joyful and interesting person, to ever come into my life, Jules.

Me: And you were/are the absolute love of my life, Ants. And then there was the gift of Ming!

Anthony: How is that young chap – my son?

Me: Our son!

Anthony: Our son! Okay!

Me: He is a weird hybrid of you and me – fascinating!

Anthony: Apart from you, Jules, that boy/man was the best thing that ever happened for me and I am so proud of him.

Me: Me too, Ants.37595561_1321704467965247_8882265699846717440_n

Note: Unblogging for the time being … thanks to my friends/bloggers for your grace x

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Imagined conversation 80

Me: Oh, Ants, everything is terrible!

Anthony: I know, Jules, I know.

Me: So why haven’t you done anything to help me?

Anthony: I am a long way from being an angel yet.

Me: Did I do the right thing?

Anthony: Yes.

Me: What could I have done differently?

Anthony: You could have done it sooner.

 

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Imagined conversation 79: Christmas eve 2018

Me: If you were here at home, back in time, Ants, we would have been sneaking bits of the Christmas ham and drinking champagne, then you would have eventually gone to bed and I would stay up for hours, wrapping presents to put into his pillow-case, leaving the empty pillowcase on the end of his bed and secretly filling the identical pillow-case (blue) with as many presents as I could fit into it! You thought I was extravagant but I was just doing what my parents did and, anyway, it was Ming, our only child; I wanted to give him the world + lego.

Anthony: It is quite common for middle-aged women to feel a bit lost when their children grow up.

Me: Straight to the point as usual, Ants – I miss you.

Anthony: I miss you too, Jules, but I mostly miss seeing Ming growing into a man of my calibre.

Me: Your arrogance is breathtaking, Ants!

Anthony: Jules?

Me: Ants?

Anthony: I am with you.

Me: Okay.

 

 

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Imagined conversation 78

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Me: I miss you so much, Ants – sometimes it is like this silent, piercing, explosive shriek inside me and I can hardly bear the physical palpitating pain of it.

Anthony: Pull yourself together, Jules – you can do it.

Me: All this other wonderful stuff is happening but the joy I should be feeling is clouded over a bit by grief; it has now been 455 days since you died.

Anthony: 456 days to be exact.

Me: Are you kidding? Is there a time difference in Heaven?

Anthony: We do live in Western Australia, Jules.

Me: Was that a deliberate faux pas, Ants? You don’t live here anymore.

Anthony: I am in the air around the Aga.

Me: Oh shut up! Now I know you are kidding around and I guess that is what is the most painful thing for me – you had had so many TIAs but you always woke up again. When you did die, I thought for a moment that you just might be pretending.

Anthony: I am so sorry, Jules.

Me: Yeah, you did do the death thing brutally fast. I am glad for you but even after all of these long, longing, days, I am still a bit shocked at how fast I lost you.

Anthony: I miss you too, my beautiful girl.

Me: I will tell you more about your headstone tomorrow; it is absolutely perfect!

Anthony: I love you, Jules.

 

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Tomorrow is Monday

Me: While I was away, my mother visited your grave on my behalf and found what had been such a beautiful space overtaken by weeds.

Anthony: She is extraordinary!

Me: Were you watching her do the woodchip thing? Did you know she complained to the shire and they got right onto it?

Anthony: I have a room with a view.

Me: Tomorrow is Monday and your headstone is finally going to happen, Ants.

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A little note to blog friends

I have been feeling rather remiss lately in not registering a like or commenting on other blogs. Obviously it would be impossible to catch up but I do plan to begin reading other blogs again soon because I do care. A lot is happening at the moment (all good!) so that is my excuse. Many thanks for those who support me on my own blog – I appreciate your kindness so much.

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Imagined conversation 75

Me: Picture this, Ants.

Anthony: Picture what?

Me: Well, it happened on the very day I had decided to dress nicely even if just home alone (a psychological trick I have been teaching myself lately to boost my sense of wellbeing).

Anthony: And?

Me: D and J dropped in unexpectedly and I was still in my pyjamas.

Anthony: So what?

Me: It was 2pm. Also, the grass was neck-high due to the fact that the lawnmowing family hadn’t been able to come for awhile, and there were two rabbit corpses at the front door.

Anthony: So what?

Me: I was embarrassed!

Anthony: What did Ming say?

Me: Ming said he was embarrassed by me being embarrassed and that I should stop saying sorry.

Anthony: Sorry for what?

Me: Exactly.

Anthony: Are you okay, Jules?

Me: Yes and no, Ants.

Anthony: Everything will be fine, Jules.

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Me: The moonflower had to be cut down recently, Ants, because of the root problem; it was entangled with the un-killable camphor laurel, both of which were attacking the foundations of the house!

Anthony: Being in heaven has given me a new perspective so it is fine with me.

Me: I will never, ever forget the day you took my hand for the first time and rushed me outside to look at the moonflower blooming. At the time I didn’t care at all about the flower; I was too amazed by the shock of my hand in yours.

Anthony: I remember, Jules.

Me: One of my favourite memories, Ants, despite the various difficulties that followed….

Anthony: I miss you, Jules….

Me: And I miss you, Ants, plus I am trying to keep the farm looking good and myself groomed etc.

Anthony: If you do something with your hair, everything will be fine, Jules.

Me: Arghhh!

 

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Aging ungracefully

I am just a few months away from turning 60 but I am not going to say when my birthday is because I don’t want to be inundated with sympathy messages from my younger-than-60 friends and empathy messages from my older-than-60 friends.

Anyway, jokes aside, and apart from the shock of wondering where the hell all those years decades went so hurriedly, I have actually been feeling a wonderful sense of wellbeing lately and, yes, even youthfulness! In preparation for the onset of my new decade, I recently embarked on a health kick – you know, meditation, mindfulness, eating natural foods, exercise, replacing old unhealthy habits (like too much coffee, a Netflix addiction, and the occasional bout of self-loathing, for example) with new habits like coconut water, jigsaw puzzles and saying I love you, you gorgeous creature into the mirror twenty times each morning. The results have been incredible with the unexpected bonus of looking much younger than the age I am about to become.

Or so I thought.

Yesterday, I went shopping for vitamin supplements to enhance my newfound sense of well-being. I took my little basket of goodies to the counter and, trained by Anthony to always ask for a discount, I beamed confidently at the beautiful young shop assistant and this was our brief conversation.

Me: Is there a discount for people who make big purchases like this?

Beautiful young shop assistant: No, but since you are a senior citizen we can….?

She faltered at my gobsmacked expression and finished with ….if not, I can, well – what about if I take 5% off?

I was still lost for words and felt like saying, 5% will not make up for the fact that you have thoroughly ruined my day, but I just said, Thank you, feeling the already-depleted collagen seeping from my previously rosy cheeks.

So now I cannot actually wait to turn 60 so that remarks like this will be justified.

I can definitely hear Anthony laughing.

 

 

 

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Springtime: Imagined conversation 70

Me: Thank God August is over.

Anthony: Okay, will do.

Me: Do what?

Anthony: I thought you asked me to thank God?

Me: Oh, I see….

Anthony: I felt it too, the August blues.

Me: Did you?

Anthony: Well, you know how I dislike winter.

Me: I didn’t think you got winter over there.

Anthony: No, but I felt for you.

Me: It wasn’t so much the winter; it was because it was the month you died. I thought I would get all sad on the 23rd but instead I was sad for the whole month. It was horrible.

Anthony: And now?

Me: Ever since the 1st of September – the first day of spring – it is as if a heavy fog has lifted.

Anthony: Good on you, Jules.

Me: I got a lot of comfort out of our conversations during August though.

Anthony: My pleasure.

Me: I don’t feel the need to talk with you as much now.

Anthony: You’ve said that before. Don’t worry – I will survive.

Me: Ha – ironic.

Anthony: You have a lot of living to do, Jules – at least another 20 years.

Me: If you had said that in August I would have felt daunted. Ming said my eyes went all dark.

Anthony: And now?

Me: Now I feel a sense of excitement.

Anthony: Shine on, baby!

Me: You too.

Anthony: I am so shiny now you would need your sunglasses.

Me: For some reason that conjured an image of nudity.

Anthony: You are so perceptive, Jules! I am at the naturist beach.

Me: Oh hell.

Anthony: No, this is heaven.

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The gift of grief: Imagined conversation 66

Anthony: I sense a poem?

Me: I sense cynicism?

Anthony: Go for it, Jules.

Me: Grief is more of question mark than a word or a concept.

Anthony: Please, not the metaphorical – please!

Me: Grief is like punctuation – it comes and goes and is very subjective – and it isn’t a sentence.

Anthony: Not sure what you mean exactly.

Me: Okay, so Ming responded to a friend who innocently asked him what he was doing on the 23rd with OH YES IT IS THE DEATHDAY OF MY DAD!!!

Anthony: He has your dramatic attributes.

Me: No, he has YOUR dramatic attributes.

Anthony: The poem?

Me: I have lost it now – argh – it was something to do with grief being like a coin on which the other side is gratitude. For example, the greater the grief, the greater the love lost = gratitude for what was.

Anthony: Is.

Me: What?

Anthony: Please use the present tense from now on when you talk about love.

Me: Yeah, but I don’t want to sound all squishy squashy, wishy washy….

Anthony: JULES!

Me: Yes, Ants?

Anthony: It is all good. And, by the way, I am having drinks tomorrow to celebrate you!

Me: I miss you to the point of no return, Ants!

Anthony: Change the punctuation, Jules; change the sentence(s); keep writing and come back!

Me: Okay. I think I get it now.

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