Sunday, August 10, 2003  

Life's a bitch then you die, black hell.

I spent part of Friday afternoon at a funeral. An all too familiar setting these days, and one I hope will be my last for a good while. My inner voice tells me that death is just a part of living, albeit the last part, but a part of life we will all experience. As there is no god there should be no other consequence of death, and grieving is our way of coming to terms with our loss. But it's not that simple is it ? I took the opportunity to do a little people watching whilst the afternoon played out. I saw lots of people dealing with the occasion in a number of ways. I'm not going to dissect the whole thing here, I've done that in my head over the last twenty-four hours, but I can tell you this. The experience has reaffirmed my belief that most grief is self-centred, that death is the final part of life and that once you are dead there is nothing more.

I know that people do genuinely grieve for the person that has died; I'm not trying to say that everyone is only thinking of themselves, I'm generalising. There is a poem that puts the whole grieving process into perspective for me, can I find it ? Can I fuck ! It was in a Bloodaxe book of contemporary women's poetry and summed up the whole thing beautifully. If you know which one I'm talking about please let me know.

One nice thing about the afternoon was seeing my dad again; it's been a couple of years. I'm not into the whole catharsis part of blogging, lets just say a lot of water has passed under many bridges, and I haven't been as easy going with him as I have with my own son. A failing on my part and we'll say no more. The thing with father son relationships is that you can just pick up where you left off, no recriminations or sulking, just a chat like we only spoke last week and a promise to keep in touch. The usual pattern, but neither of us is getting any younger so lets hope we can keep it this time.

| posted by Simon | 12:10 pm | 0 comments
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