Nine years
Today is the ninth anniversary of Greg's death. Kay and I are going to the crematorium to lay flowers in the chapel. Sometimes it seems more than nine years, at other times barely possible that so much time has lapsed. We talk about him often - keen to keep him with us in the present; to chide him over his stupidity to drink himself to death; to lament his absence. To forget him is nigh-on impossible, despite the passing of time. How can you eradicate 39 years together? Most were happy, although they are unfortunately overshadowed by those last few years which were so full of the drunken nightmare, so that it is THAT which has stuck eternally in our minds.
He was and always will be Kay's father. I am keen to keep his memory alive for her, the good side of him, the kind side of him, not the bad, drunken side. But with every passing year, I struggle to conjure up the details of his face or his voice. I have photos, of course. Cine film even. Not to mention cassettes of his voice as part of his work as a radio journalist. But the 3-D Greg is difficult to bring to the fore. He is fading away into the mists of the past, but still I feel the need to grasp hold of him and remember.
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| Last resting place |
3 comments:
Where did those years go? It's a long time we've been talking and not knowing isn't it.
Recalling the voice is what I struggle with with friends and family I have lost and then sometimes I hear them, one word or a laugh and for a moment it is there and then gone again. Like a butterfly.
Love to you both x
Rest in Peace Greg.
The memory of loved ones who have gone may fade in some ways but nevertheless they are ever present. It is a shame that Greg never got to see how far your Kay has come.
Hi Addy, just catching up after years away, a sobering moment realising it's nine years since Greg died. Much love to you and Kay ❤️
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