Jumbled catch-up in no good order.
- Went to Greenwich with K and Matt for the thursday market. Told Matt he owed me an antique key for me returning a shamblyland room key I'd buggered off with. For some unfathomable reason he agreed and bought me one. It's now hung on the chain of my Alchemist's necklace =)
- Found a tasseled and beaded black silk lady's opera caplet, circa 1885-1900. Not perfect condition, several small flaws as one would expect. Lady was asking 20quid. I stopped to admire it, and she dropped the price to 18. I snatched it up. Might wear it for the funeral.
- Family was down at the Oast again this weekend - busy busy chaos. Sent K back to London today because I don't want him to miss out on all of the history and splendor of the city 'cos he's stuck at the Oast whilst I do admin chores. Accounts tomorrow and then maybe I can scamper back to london the day after.
- Have been having very stern talks to my neurons about not being angry at my father and Sally - because I'm well aware it's not either of them that I'm angry with. I'm angry at the universe, or fate or god or science or whatever anyone thinks has a hand in such factors. I want to shout that it's so fucking UNFAIR what happened to my mother. But I know life isn't fair, and shouting won't make it so for me or her or anyone else. Besides, barring miracles, it turned out as best it could, didn't it? They both got their wishes: he's finally in love again and happy, and she's finally dead. In this world, that counts as a happy ending. (No wonder I'm a bloody chronic depressive.)
- Have been trying to write a piece to say at my mother's funeral. I'd planned on just reading 'The Hollow Men' by T S Eliot, because my mother always liked his poetry and to me that poem sums up dementia perfectly... But my father felt it was important I do a speech since, 'We're the two writers in the family. Everyone can speak - but we're the ones who need to get it right.' I think I've got it right at last; I'll show my father tomorrow and see what he thinks. (It's only fair - I looked over his speech and told him to ditch the 'shock podium debate tactics' he'd stuck in. He did.)
- Am feeling mostly calm about the funeral, the scattering of ashes and all. Funerals are not for the corpse - they're for the living who need to say goodbye.
I've said goodbye; both cynically when she was an ill shambly-shadow, and truthfully the last time I was at the Oast before she died.
Everyone was out - even K - it was early evening and for the first time in a very long time I was utterly alone. For reasons entirely beyond my comprehension I pulled out two wine glasses, poured a measure in each and invited my mother to join me.
And she did.
We chatted and caught up properly: talked about family and life and travelling and troubles...
But when the wine was gone, so was she.
And I collapsed to the floor and sobbed, because that had been my mother as I hadn't known her in ten or more years: vibrant, opinionated, funny and bright. And I knew I'd never see it again....
Is it necromancy or just insanity when you summon the ghost of someone who hasn't died yet? Gods know. I suppose I should leave all of that out of the funeral speech at any rate....
- There are slightly weird things at the Oast - strange whispers and shadows both good and bad. (Yeah, either that or I'm in more need of a Dr's appointment than I thought!)
- Found a tasseled and beaded black silk lady's opera caplet, circa 1885-1900. Not perfect condition, several small flaws as one would expect. Lady was asking 20quid. I stopped to admire it, and she dropped the price to 18. I snatched it up. Might wear it for the funeral.
- Family was down at the Oast again this weekend - busy busy chaos. Sent K back to London today because I don't want him to miss out on all of the history and splendor of the city 'cos he's stuck at the Oast whilst I do admin chores. Accounts tomorrow and then maybe I can scamper back to london the day after.
- Have been having very stern talks to my neurons about not being angry at my father and Sally - because I'm well aware it's not either of them that I'm angry with. I'm angry at the universe, or fate or god or science or whatever anyone thinks has a hand in such factors. I want to shout that it's so fucking UNFAIR what happened to my mother. But I know life isn't fair, and shouting won't make it so for me or her or anyone else. Besides, barring miracles, it turned out as best it could, didn't it? They both got their wishes: he's finally in love again and happy, and she's finally dead. In this world, that counts as a happy ending. (No wonder I'm a bloody chronic depressive.)
- Have been trying to write a piece to say at my mother's funeral. I'd planned on just reading 'The Hollow Men' by T S Eliot, because my mother always liked his poetry and to me that poem sums up dementia perfectly... But my father felt it was important I do a speech since, 'We're the two writers in the family. Everyone can speak - but we're the ones who need to get it right.' I think I've got it right at last; I'll show my father tomorrow and see what he thinks. (It's only fair - I looked over his speech and told him to ditch the 'shock podium debate tactics' he'd stuck in. He did.)
- Am feeling mostly calm about the funeral, the scattering of ashes and all. Funerals are not for the corpse - they're for the living who need to say goodbye.
I've said goodbye; both cynically when she was an ill shambly-shadow, and truthfully the last time I was at the Oast before she died.
Everyone was out - even K - it was early evening and for the first time in a very long time I was utterly alone. For reasons entirely beyond my comprehension I pulled out two wine glasses, poured a measure in each and invited my mother to join me.
And she did.
We chatted and caught up properly: talked about family and life and travelling and troubles...
But when the wine was gone, so was she.
And I collapsed to the floor and sobbed, because that had been my mother as I hadn't known her in ten or more years: vibrant, opinionated, funny and bright. And I knew I'd never see it again....
Is it necromancy or just insanity when you summon the ghost of someone who hasn't died yet? Gods know. I suppose I should leave all of that out of the funeral speech at any rate....
- There are slightly weird things at the Oast - strange whispers and shadows both good and bad. (Yeah, either that or I'm in more need of a Dr's appointment than I thought!)