Sunday, January 31, 2010
A funeral is a short time to sum up a life. And a life is both a long time and a blink of an eye in the life of the universe. On Thursday, John, the neighbour with whom I have shared many hours over the past five years, was buried. We spoke in the garden and on the doorstep weekly, and often talked of the war and bombs and cinemas and his holidays. Though I did not know him for the first seventy years of his life, I wondered. The funeral is the last moment, the last memory many people have of a person, and for that final moment to be outside of your self, to be defined by others, somehow seems to sum up a life, yet also not explain your life in a way you may recognise as your own. I thought that perhaps I would like to write my own self summary of my life : allow me to tell my final story, my way.
As for the rest of my life? It ain’t easy. And it never will be. But it’s getting less hard