And the band plays on
And the band plays on
In the month or so since I decided to stop writing my blog, it has been viewed more than 1000 times which got me thinking – maybe you aren’t ready for me to stop. Who are all these people reading it?
I have to admit, I have missed it too. The connection was a bit more affirming than I realised. I have looked at a whole heap of blogs about death and grief and all that stuff and somehow most people seem angry or religious or just not very interesting. So, I thought that since there are obviously people out there who still want to read about our “doins” (that was one of Brian’s favourite sayings), I would write a little now and then.
So what is happening? Nothing much but the most over-powering thing I have found out is that this is a long lonely journey. It is not so much that Brian is gone, it is that I have gone too. It is so unexpected and disorienting becoming someone else when you are already old and it wasn’t your choice. It is not fun. I guess for many people who lose their job, or their money or their health, this is familiar but I had no idea it would reach right down to my identity and my soul. And maybe much of who I was, was influenced by Brian. Without him, I am floundering in unchartered and rough seas.
So, the short answer to the question is, no – I am not over it yet.
And life is weird. We are doing things and some of them are great. Reuben went to Thailand for a friend’s wedding. It was a hilarious chapter of disasters, hurt his elbow in the first three hours so then we had medical insurance drama, then he got bitten by a dog (no shots of course) so more medial drama all conducted over the phone with a call centre in Singapore or somewhere. They were very patient and finally covered him, heaven knows why, I wouldn’t. But rabies shots and Thai hospitals turn out to be very expensive. Then to cap it off, he got his phone stolen. He was ready to throw in the towel I think. So, the planned rest and recovery for Reuben turned into stress and strung out instead.
Meanwhile, back at the ranch, the boys worked on and bluffed through without Reuben and I start thinking that maybe I need a full time job too. But what? but where? but how? Can I really go and sit in meetings again? Someone I know, stood up at particularly tedious and self-important meeting and said, you are all insufferable bores and I am leaving before I tell you any more truths about yourselves - imagine it? I have thought about it a few times. She left work that day and never went back.
I am working on my upholstery, doing some good things but can’t see how I could ever make enough money for it to be viable. I am going to this course in Wanganui each Monday. It’s funny to go to a town you don’t know on a summer Monday evening, like an interloper in their community. It always seems to be very hot up there, perhaps that is a secret about Wanganui. But at 7 o’clock on a Monday night, nothing moves in that town. Oddly suspended.
The class is made up of the usual suspects with random bits of furniture and the teacher is the usual blithe chappie who is helpful but prefers helping with the things that are easy. Not horrible hard wingbacks with strange piping like I have managed to get hold of. Managed to staple my finger yesterday, I know I had it coming but fingers sure can bleed. Luckily managed avoid bleeding all over the chair.
It is fun though and it feels so satisfying to actually make something. All those papers I have written and press releases and things that are now nothing, as though I never even did it. But a chair stays, gets used and gets appreciated. So much of Brian’s work is still valued all over Wellington. It is something to think about.
I am trying to go to things and to curb my chronic cynic-omania but really, all the movies seem sanitised and glamorised – I mean who can really believe ridiculously pretty Keira Knightly as a studious Maths whizz or that Julianne Moore would still have that beautiful red hair when she is dying of Alzheimer’s? – I seem to have lost the knack of suspended disbelief.
But some days, things seem normal and people tell me that gradually the normal days turn into weeks. Bring it on.