chickens
Most of my reflection, unsurprisingly, has been about the MEANING OF LIFE. Yeah, THE big question. Now you understand my reluctance to write? Bah. It's a pretty overwhelming and daunting thing to contemplate, and putting it into words, even more so.
I'm still not convinced I've come to any conclusions... how can you, really? I wonder what my perspective will be once I reach a grand old age.. if I reach a grand old age. Which is part and parcel to my recent thinking. See, my new insight is that we should take nothing for granted. Nothing. Especially our longevity. Because our lives could very well be taken from us tomorrow. I know you often hear it said 'treat every day as if it is your last,' but I never really appreciated that advice until now. And I have been. I'm not sure Richard really appreciates this new outlook, as it involves not wanting to let him go every time we say goodbye.
Much of this is to do with Liz, of course. I was going to go into detail about the funeral, but it seems so long ago now and.. I dunno. It was lovely and heartbreaking at the same time. I was sobbing throughout, while others who were so much closer to Liz remained strong and stoic. I felt a bit ridiculous in fact. Rob even had the courage to go up and SPEAK! As did her mother, father, sister, cousin... My god! I don't know where they found the strength!
It was so great to see so many old friends, though it also made me feel immensely guilty for not being better about keeping in touch. After the service, we all lingered about listlessly at the site - which resembled a park more than anything with rolling fields and lawns everywhere - unsure of what to do. A few people discovered food and drink inside, and soon we were all at it, regrouping on the lawn. The seats were soon filled up, so we started to sit on the grass. Our little group slowly grew larger and larger, and soon we formed a massive circle. It was reminiscent of Sinister picnics of yore, which was sad and fanastic at the same time. Because that's how I - and most people there - met Liz, and each other. And it seemed totally fitting that we would get together like this. Yet also horrible when you stopped to consider we were not in a park after all, but a cemetary. And Liz was not among us, but beneath us. Although it was like she was with us... ack! Hard to describe without sounding cheesy really.
Afterwards we all went to the pub and got merry. I reconnected with old friends, made some new ones, and had a pretty good time all around, only feeling a bit guilty about the circumstances. The next day I met up with some of the crew again, in a different pub. It was nice.
The whole weekend was an escape of sorts. I felt transplanted to a different place and time. I was removed from my present day-to-day life, and placed back in time to three years ago, when I was in London for a month, staying with Paul after being kicked out of Greece. Only the cast of characters had changed a bit. And I had changed a bit. And actually, everything was different. It was a wake-up call of sorts. A reminder of what is important. People. And time. Make the most of both. Yes.
At times, it was easy to forget the circumstances that had brought me back down there. Other times, however, I was hit full force across the face with reminders. On the very day I flew down, there was another spate of attempted attacks. And as I was making my way to the funeral, our train was rushed through one station without stopping because of 'a security alert.' In actuality, someone had just been shot in the head for being mistaken for a terrorist.
It didn't make me scared. No. I got really angry. I thought, 'How DARE you try this again! Here I am, ON MY WAY TO A FUNERAL of a girl you bastards killed and now you're TRYING IT AGAIN?! No respect!'
On Saturday, I found myself at Kings Cross, and stumbled across the makeshift memorial outside. It was a bit of a shock. I had forgotten the association. And I couldn't decide whether to visit the site or not. In the end, I thought I probably should. So I wandered in... and quickly made my escape again. It was awful! Not only because of the personal connection, but because of the eerieness of it all. There were hundreds of flowers, but most were dead or dying and the stench was overpowering. Plus, there were some truly disturbing mementos, including what appeared to be a bloodied football jersey, stuffed with straw like a scarecrow. Ack!
Things have calmed down a bit since my return. Life has continued more or less as normal. But not entirely. I feel changed. My whole outlook has changed, in fact. I really do face each day differently. Which has has some strange repercussions. It has put my tendancy to worry and plan endlessly for the future a bit out of whack, for instance. I'm still trying to sock away the pennies and save, but I'm not as focused on the far away future. Cos there's a good likelihood I may never see it. Better to take advantage of the now. So instead of fretting about my retirement, the furthest ahead I've been planning is my next holiday, and how to cram in as much fun and excitement as possible!
Perhaps this isn't the most responsible way to live either, but fuck it!
Another thing that has spawned such reflection was a tsunami aftermath documentary. Truly heart-wrenching stuff. It really makes you contemplate the value of individual lives, and their purpose. People lost entire families there! Entire communities! Yet they persevere, in a post-apocolyptic world, while the rest of us continue as normal, moaning about no milk for tea. Really puts things in perspective. And what about those suffering from famine in Africa? Their lives have become solely about survival. How is the value of their lives any different than mine? And what does that mean, then? Ack!
It's a frustrating, mind-numbing exercise. And what I'm left with... thoughts that I am one lucky bitch and should make the most of what I've got.
And also that I can afford to be more generous. So today I bought twenty chickens. In memory of Liz. For impoverished families in Africa. And I think I may continue to do so. To commemorate birthdays, anniversaries, you name it. You can also buy goats and cows and bees and seeds. At least it's something.
This weekend I'm going back to London. Hopefully I'll have more happy tales to recount this time around. I'll definitely be making the most of it. And hugging. Lots.
