Second Class Posts

Personal, Wittering, ,

I had high hopes for this blog. Sadly, events this past couple of years have rather conspired against me. I find I am left without much inspiration.

I did make a short list of likely topics for interesting posts. The hope was it would inspire me to write stuff.

It didn’t happen.

What I didn’t want to do – and will continue to avoid at all costs – was to start posting about the state of the world and our species. I wanted to keep things light, posts about hobbies, travel, that sort of thing.

It seems I just can’t find the spark to write anything at the moment.

Perhaps bereavement, and sorting Life™ out after such events, has taken more of a toll on me than I thought.

All that to say I’m still around. Perhaps the spark will fire off in due course. I hope it’s soon.

Grief

Personal,

I saw this a while ago as it zipped past in my social media feed. I forget the actual wording, but my paraphrasing gives the idea.

Grief is not so much for the life lost
as for the living that now won’t happen.

This coming weekend, my family will be holding a gathering. We will be enjoying company, food, drink, and remembering my Dad and Paul. I expect there will be tears as well as laughter.

Rabbit Holes

History & Research, Personal, Sound & Audio, Technology, , , , ,

Sorting and tidying following Paul’s death is an ongoing activity. I have barely scratched the surface, if I’m being honest. The easiest things to dump — ancient magazine back issues, bank statements from long-defunct accounts, that kind of thing — are quickly dealt with. Paul’s amateur radio gear was taken away by members of the local club. I am now getting down to deeper layers, where I am finding things harder to just pitch into a bin bag.

Continue reading Rabbit Holes →

Letting go

Personal, ,

I always quite liked Thursdays. At my secondary school, Thursday was an Art double period day. As a child it was a Blue Peter day. As I got older, it was a Tomorrow’s World and Top Of The Pops and, later still, Top Gear day. 

Paul died on a Thursday. The day has since taken on a different meaning. It has became a kind of marker. I kept count of the weeks as they ticked by, After Paul, Thursday after Thursday.

Until now. I’ve lost count. We are somewhere beyond twelve weeks, coming up for four months. I could tot them up on a calendar to remind myself, or perhaps continue to remember on the sixth day of each new month. Perhaps now is the proper time to stop counting the weeks or months, and leave my memories to an anniversary.

Grief still catches me, but it is becoming less raw as time passes. The process of clearing and sorting Paul’s things is very much still ongoing, as I wrote last time. The process of getting the property into my name has begun, but the gears of English law turn slowly.

Medical issues still burden me, preventing me making definite plans. A model railway meeting in October and a big model show in November, have been marked in my calendar. I hope I will be fit by then. A sort of bucket list of places, mostly round the UK, I’d really like to visit is brewing, too. Perhaps researching for such adventures will help me reset my life.

After all, life must go on.