grief and zombies…

Heya Bab,

I have a confession to make.

Tonight I sat up watching some scary ass zombie movie that you-know-who had saved on my computer, even though it scared the crap out of me! I ate way too many Pringles as some kind of strange coping strategy – I crunch therefore I am. You would definitely not feel this was me making the most of my time in Uganda…

As the credits rolled up I remember all the reasons why I’d sworn off horror movies. To my over active imagination they are poison, no matter how much I love them, almost a kind of self harm!

For a moment I worried I was going to end up lying awake all night with my eyes full of ripped intestines and undead frenzies. But then I remembered that you had gone and what is real fell back into place with a painful bump but also some relief.

You would laugh to hear that zombies made me think of you, but you have been my touchstone for so long that to me, it makes perfect sense. Right now I’d call you, hear your voice on the line and the world would feel safe again, or at least safe enough to go to sleep! You were my centre, my 999, my late night counsel, my on call.

There is something apt in the fact that the memory of you, the reminder of the loss of you, what really rips and hurts, pushed the scary scenes right out of my head. Even though memories of you still make me cry, no thought of you comes without joy, love and thanks – so overall its a happy result and a job well done!

Thinking of you has pushed away silly fears and given my smiling tears.. its a much better place to fall asleep from.

There is always that point in scary movies when they’re surrounded by the creepy crawlies and you just know it is going to end badly. At that moment, I always wonder why they just don’t quit and go for the nice easy bullet in the head rather than stick around for the grimy gnashing teeth of the undead hoards. I believe in life but as you know I’m practical at heart!

After all death is what comes. The reality is usually less dramatic, quieter, more of a sigh and a sob than a scream but it still comes. That is the fear we fly from. It strikes me that time would be better spent if we’d face that shadow, hold our fear close and make ourselves look at it stripped bare of all the theatre. It is something different then. Of course that wouldn’t make for much of a move….

You fought cancer hard for long years but somehow I was every bit as proud of you when you decided to stop, that it was time to quit. I think that took every bit as much courage. You told me again and again, it couldn’t be helped, it had to be faced. After all there is a time to live and a time to die.

There are paths that have to be walked. I suppose that is part of the plan whether we like it or not. Some we don’t have to travel so I will try to stay away from the worst of those movies….

I’ve been looking at pictures of you on my computer and it is good to see you well and happy again, time rewound. Dying has let you be yourself again.

I have you with me, within me, but I wish I had a little, a lot more in fact. I miss you like crazy but I know you know that.

Night night sleep tight.


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