Approaching the third anniversary of LB’s death…
Death anniversaries involve different layers of sadness to the everyday living with unexpected bereavement. More frequent gut punching, breath stealing moments. Additional anxiety and irrational irritation/rage. Intense sadness. A constant thinking back (to three years ago). An almost compulsive recounting and counting down of last times:
Seeing, hanging out with, talking with, going to [London, the Aziz for Sunday buffet lunch, the farm, Trax…], photographing…
Trying to quash the horror of those last few months.
It’s odd how this date is so important. More significant than the day LB was born. More important than Christmas, Easter, birthdays, holidays. And the days in between…
I’m beginning to think 4.7.13 dominates on the date stakes because it holds a key thread. Between life and death. Between what was and what is. At 10.18am on that boiling hot July day LB’s life officially ended. Our lives changed irrevocably. I (still) find it impossible to make sense of this. Up to that moment LB was. We were what we were. A few words, spoken by a kind A&E consultant, and we were no longer.
The lives of family, friends, colleagues, acquaintances and layers of people we didn’t know changed in different ways and intensities.
Maybe we just don’t know what to do with this thread.
Nearly 9pm. Feeling dog tired. Relieved the day is nearly over. Good to hang out with family and friends over the last few days. Too much food, drink. Late nights. Tears, music and laughter.
We waited at the bus stop earlier this afternoon. To catch the 700 to the cemetery.
Close to where I took this pic of LB on the way to his interview at Helen House in February 2013. When life had a different shape, colour and texture. And a sort of assumed certainty it turned out not to have.
The challenge (still) is trying to work out what life after LB’s death is and what it means.
With the constant and unrelenting shit storm of Sloven related crap this is almost impossible.
Thank you for the messages, tweets, thoughts, best wishes and love today. These are remarkably comforting.
Please read Chris Hatton’s reflections about Tim Smart’s judgement. [With a colourful and insightful illustration from Ben Hatton…]
A powerful piece here by Rachel Hepworth for ITV Meridian in memory of LB. A refreshing focus on My Life My Choice champs who cut through the crap. As always.
I’d forgotten LB asking why a friend from Springfield, Illinois, wasn’t yellow back in the day.
I miss him.