Stillness
Posted: Saturday, 16 February 2008 |
The end is in sight, the galley rennovations which seem to have taken over my life recently are drawing to an end of the messy, noisy welding, grinding stage and are about to enter the sweary cursing fiddly joinery stage. You will be able to see our boat from the cloud of blue four letter words circling around the VHF antennas.
Anyhoo, here are the latest pics from friday night when it was so still it looked like someone had ironed the harbour.
The tears fell from my eyes and onto my keyboard as I typed the response to my friend, making the keys slippy as my fingers splashed into the tiny puddles. We were discussing his will, and what he was going to leave me in it, a camera and some equipment. How the conversation got there is strange, I had shown him some photos I had taken with my new camera, and he said he would leave me his as I would get better use from it than he ever would.
His impending death from a horrible disease is thoroughly accepted, no screaming, crying, clawing at options to try to stave off the guy in the dark robe and the scythe but more an attitude of yeah, bring it on, catch me if you can. No way is he at deaths door, the aforementioned dark character has a long way to catch up to stalk his footsteps. But he is on his trail and the deep seated unfairness of it all stings like a fresh cut in my consciousness.
The strength gained from knowing the grains of sand are falling through the pinch in your personal egg timer is strange. I filled in an online game to see when I would die, and found I wouldn’t ever make it to retirement (which is probably a good thing as I have no pension). I always thought I would never see 21, and then it came and went. Then 25 and it came and went. Now I look at 30 and somehow feel the inevitable mid life crisis is thundering down the road like an out of control artic lorry down a steep hill. Hey, if I ain’t making it to 70 (or whatever the retirement age is then…probably 85 with good behaviour), I’m damned if I’m going to wait for my crisis, I want it now and buy a motorbike!
Anyhoo, here are the latest pics from friday night when it was so still it looked like someone had ironed the harbour.
The tears fell from my eyes and onto my keyboard as I typed the response to my friend, making the keys slippy as my fingers splashed into the tiny puddles. We were discussing his will, and what he was going to leave me in it, a camera and some equipment. How the conversation got there is strange, I had shown him some photos I had taken with my new camera, and he said he would leave me his as I would get better use from it than he ever would.
His impending death from a horrible disease is thoroughly accepted, no screaming, crying, clawing at options to try to stave off the guy in the dark robe and the scythe but more an attitude of yeah, bring it on, catch me if you can. No way is he at deaths door, the aforementioned dark character has a long way to catch up to stalk his footsteps. But he is on his trail and the deep seated unfairness of it all stings like a fresh cut in my consciousness.
The strength gained from knowing the grains of sand are falling through the pinch in your personal egg timer is strange. I filled in an online game to see when I would die, and found I wouldn’t ever make it to retirement (which is probably a good thing as I have no pension). I always thought I would never see 21, and then it came and went. Then 25 and it came and went. Now I look at 30 and somehow feel the inevitable mid life crisis is thundering down the road like an out of control artic lorry down a steep hill. Hey, if I ain’t making it to 70 (or whatever the retirement age is then…probably 85 with good behaviour), I’m damned if I’m going to wait for my crisis, I want it now and buy a motorbike!
Comments
never,ever look up silly thing things like that on the net-it can only give you two answers --sooner or later-we all have to go oneday. I'm sorry about your friend-i know it is horrible having to come terms about death when one is ill,but trying to make the most of the time that is left eases a bit of the pain(or so late hubby said) life is short so whenever possible make the most of it!
carol --- from being understanding
I love the b&w's. Perfect. It's a pity life isn't. But then it wouldn't be the life we know and love, would it?
Ruthodanort from Unst
For goodness sakes (says female parental unit) don't go putting motorbike ideas into old men's heads!
Flying Cat from the sands of time
Why not FC?
Hyper-Borean from The TT Grandstand
Always like your photos, H. Now you have your new camera the talent is growing. One of my acquaintances once told me there's only three certainties in life - 'you'll be hatched, matched and dispatched'. I always thought it was a bit harsh coming from an undertaker, though. It must be hard knowing you're looking at the end, but in some respects faintly calming as you have somewhere to work towards, and make as much as possible. And if it doesn't happen, then carry on enjoying life. Make the most of it, before it's gone.
B from The Office
Doad, thanks for the fine pictures,, if you can better them with your friend's camera they will be great and a fine memorial to your pal. I think he has got things absolutly right. Who knows what happens when our eyes close for the last time? Personally I think it is nothing (like before I was born) or a move to a higher energy plane. Most exciting! But of course hard on you to be left behind for a bit of time. I wish your friend peace now and peace in passing, and for you the strength to see things from the viewpoint of your pal. Consider this - why should conditions in the hypothetical life after death be worse than they are in this life, which RudieN has summed up so well above?
Barney from Swithiod uplifted
After coming to Orkney in May 2006 for 8 months, somehow I am still here. Running the MV Valkyrie in the summer and helping on the farm in winter is now my life. 
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