Sunday, August 2, 2009



Just when I think it can't all get odder and weirder and worse, it does.

After tomorrow, I will write about it all.

After then.

Because after then, what is said, is said, what is done, is done, and no more can be taken from me.

No more.

Just the music to go.

Well, there's just the music to sort out now.

The long and short powerpoints are done, the Orders of Service are photocopied.

The She-Ex said she would send something from the BG, but nothing has arrived and it's too late now. And that's all I'm going to say about that.

Tomorrow will be what it is. I have reservations about the Cremation part, there are a few things I am unhappy with there, I have concerns about how many people will come and need feeding, I have concerns about the AC and how he will cope, but he will, and I will, and we all will, because we are all coming through this because that's what we have to do for Rich's sake!

Time to feed the child.

And restart this machine.


There is a certain automatic pilot-ness about my life right now.

This morning I got up, made tea, fed the animals, got the child some breakfast, played some games with him, wrote the rest of Rich's order of service, reordered the photographs for the song, double checked the timings, thought about clothes for church, turned on the tv for the child, froze the rest of last nights tea.....

Hang on....

What was the bit in the middle?

Oh yeah.

The planning for Rich's Service of Celebration.

That thing that we're doing tomorrow because the man I love, the man so many people love, has been killed in a bike accident. Yeah.

That thing.

And that's how it is right now. There is a perpetual sickness to my stomach, a permanent nervousness, not just about tomorrow, but about the rest of my life. It's there, in so many ways.

I have nerves about tomorrow for so many reasons. I'm not sure exactly what is happening in parts of it. I don't know how it will go.

I don't want to say goodbye to him. I love him.

It's easier for some people, who hadn't seen him for years. Easier still for those who are doing things from a sense of duty, or for those who are doing things because of AC and I, or those who aren't doing anything for whatever reason. Easier still for those who cursed him whilst he was alive, who no doubt will dance. Thankfully there are precious few of those.

I will pull it out of the bag though, and I will read at his Celebration, and I *will* be strong. Just as he was. Because when you love someone, that's just what you do.