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.
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.
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!
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.
Me: I had no idea, until now, as the anniversary of your death approaches, that my grief would turn into anxiety.
Anthony: It happened on New Years day, remember?
Me: Yes, but I got over that quite quickly with the help of some anti-anxiety medication prescribed by the doctor. So I saw him again today and he understood.
Anthony: How is he?
Me: He is fine, Ants, but I am talking about me here. Me!
Anthony: Sorry, Jules. How are you?
Me: Anxious, Ants! Waking up in the early hours with a racing heart, sweaty forehead and an irrational terror of the sun rising just in case I cannot face the ordinariness of the day, the emails I have to answer, my volunteering commitments, social arrangements, family get-togethers. I enjoy all of these things immensely but then the anxiety hits, and it hits hard, and renders me sort of helpless.
Anthony: What can I do?
Me: You are already doing it, just like you did when you were still alive. If I had a problem, at work, with Ming, with a family/friend dispute, and even with the nursing home, you would listen and enfold my shaking hands into your big warm/cold hands and there was always a semblance of peace. That’s not possible now.
Anthony: Why not?
Me: Because you are dead, Ants, and I am having a lot of trouble accepting that it is nearly a year since you died and my missing you is probably ridiculous as you were an old man anyway. I should be more accepting of what was inevitable but I still struggle.
Anthony: I don’t appreciate you calling me an old man, Jules.
Me: Well I don’t appreciate you dying so fast, Ants. I have nightmares about that.
Anthony: I am never cold anymore.
Me: So?
Anthony: You were always so worried about me being cold in the nursing home. I am never cold now and never too warm either. I am in perfect conditions.
Me: I miss everything about you – your mad humour, your adoration of Ming, your sense of irony but I guess I mostly miss how much you absolutely adored me.
Anthony: But I do still adore you, Jules! Will that stop the anxiety?
Me: Yes, I think so, Ants, but these are imagined conversations; they are not real.
Anthony: This is real, Jules.
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.
Me: This is my fifth attempt to write the same thing. I just cannot seem to capture the flavour of your voice properly, Ants.
Anthony: Does it matter? Which voice?
Me: Well that is probably what the problem is. There is your long ago booming, laughing voice, then there is your more recent quiet, stumbling voice, and now there is your imagined heavenly voice.
Anthony: Does it matter? I rather like the heavenly voice.
Me: It matters to me that I get it right, Ants! I want these conversations to mean something.
Anthony: You worry too much, Jules.
Me: I know, but the other thing is that I have run out of photos of you so I have to use the same ones again and again and sometimes I forget that I have already posted that photo or this photo….
Anthony: None of this matters, Jules (although I do prefer the more flattering photos of me).
Me: I love you so much, Ants.
Anthony: Good, Jules.
Me: You are supposed to say it back!
Anthony: I LOVE YOU, JULES!
jmgoyder 