It would have been Greg's 68th birthday today. Happy Birthday up there on the clouds, doing whatever they do up there. Are you allowed any alcohol to celebrate, I wonder?
I cannot picture Greg as 68. He is still the 60-year-old who died just over seven years ago. I suppose that's one thing about dying relatively young. You never age beyond that point. Whereas for the rest of us, you cannot stem the slowly oncoming tide of ailments, poor eyesight, tottering gait, failing this and failing that. He has escaped the drawbacks of ageing, but has been cut off in his relative prime by the demons of drink. Which is worse?
Damned if you do and damned if you don't.
3 comments:
Happy memories to you Addy. I followed your journey with Greg and am desperately sorry for the grief you suffered in your situation. But you have not despaired and carried on and have been rewarded in your wonderful daughter. And you are so lucky in still having your mother however 'forgetful' she is. Treasure her as well. My mother died five years ago aged 92. She suffered from vascular dementia which only became a problem in her last few months. I miss her like mad.
Which is the worst, I wonder, leaving this earth as a 'youngster' or battling on never knowing when someone somewhere will decide enough is enough.
My lovely brother Paul died unexpectedly at 62. Still in the midst of life. He never got to be an old man with an old man's ailments and regrets. There's something to be said for that.
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