A Difficult Decision

A friend died last week and the funeral is this Thursday. I knew him well enough to enjoy his company and I hope he enjoyed mine. We laughed and swapped stories and he was the most interesting of men. He had been treated by the same consultant as me - as I said last week he made me laugh calling her the "Willy Doctor".

I was corresponding with a friend of mine today and suddenly I found myself backing away from wanting to go to the funeral. I've been to a number but only one or two since I've been ill. One was dreadful, my friend's young still born son - I can't even tell you how messed up I felt about that especially as his other kids were around the grave etc. I can only though say that I've found myself backing out of this as I'm not certain that I can actually last the course. A lot of people will be there, he was a very popular figure and I'm sure the place will be rammed full of people. I'm not sure I'd actually be good in a crowded place either come to think of it.

I've been having some terrible dreams both waking and sleeping ones and bad thoughts again these past few weeks. Had some horrible ones about things happening to my kids too. Probably just the normal sorts of things but I've been really funny about things and whilst I can only guess this is the old post traumatic cancer fatigue stuff clicking in again, it does come in waves like this, something sets you off. Your subconscious is a powerful thing and you programme it at your peril.

I can't imagine that going on Thursday will do me any good whatsoever and I suppose in the overall scheme of things it shouldn't but I feel bad not going but know I'd regret going there the way I am.

Actually I've never liked graveyards - ask my mum! Ever since her father's grave stone fell on her leg :-) No really it did!! Also when I was a young Chorister - I had just sung Faure's Requiem Mass with the Choir at Rye Church (someone called it a Cathedral but I doubt it was) - at the interval there was the most enormous thunderstorm and just outside the vestry door in the lightining and thunder was an old flat gravestone with bubbles coming up from it where a puddle had formed over the top. Spooky :-) :-)

I really can't attribute either to my not liking funerals - I mean who likes them? But more so now I tend to get quite overcome with it all and the things is that in the last 4 years or so, death actually does have a different connotation for me than it did before. I'm not saying I stared it in the face but I think I gave it some serious contemplation and was pretty much respectful of the fact that it may be one of my options. I think I talked about walking along a path with many signposts and seeing which one to take. Realising that perhaps it didn't matter which one you took as they may all lead to one destination (which of course is the inevitable journey's end). But then there were other paths and at that time, really early on, I had no idea which one and its branches I'd be travelling along. It's a bit like a giant game of snakes and ladders but sometimes you can make your own luck or get to choose the numbers on the dice to miss the snakes, but not always.

Anyway - that's enough rambling on. I don't think I will go even though a bit of me says I should. If I don't feel up to it mentally what am I trying to prove? I might try and get a moment to myself and perhaps walk up to the local church and have a bit of quiet time and see if that will work it out for me.