There is no grave.
I remember him everywhere, especially the places where he lived, where he was happy and sad, where he enjoyed friendships and competition, winning and loosing, music and sport, playing and learning, solitude and company.
Our house has been renovated over the past few months. He would have loved how it looks and feels now. I hope he can see it from wherever he is. I can picture him sprawled on the sofa in the lounge with his cat Milkshake, cooking in the new kitchen and really enjoying entertaining his friends here.
I used to jokingly say to him, “Don’t believe everything you hear. There is nothing wrong with men who live with their Mums till they are 30 or 40. You can stay here for as long as you like.”
While he was physically here, I used to sometimes forget about him and go about my life. But now he is always with me. Not for a moment does his absence leave me. In a special way he is always present.
Will I ever be able to assign him completely to the past?
Will I ever be able to assign myself fully to the present?
Can the 2 states peacefully co-exist?
“If neurotic is wanting two mutually exclusive things at one and the same time, then I’m neurotic as hell. I’ll be flying back and forth between one mutually exclusive thing and another for the rest of my days.”