Entry #22: Just Looking

I had Monday booked off work because since 2004 that day has been a very sad day. On 14^th of May 2004 Emma from school, aged just 20, died of a heart attack due to high blood pressure.

She was away studying in Leeds, we hadn't be in touch with each other for a few months but the Saturday before she died I had the urge to call her up to find how things were going. We had a good long gossip, then she had to go because someone was at the door or something but she was going to call me back when she could. For some reason before I let her go I had the urge to specifically say to her “I love you!” And that became the last contact we had.

I find it strange that I called her that weekend, another one would have been too late. By probability the longer we went without being in touch the more likely I would have been to get in touch with her, but it just strikes me that I should call her then. When Paul from college died from cancer in 2002 I didn't get to say any sort of goodbye, I was so distracted by own life at the time that I didn't give myself the opportunity before his time ran out.

In his death Paul became the Phoenix as he called himself in his life, and I feel rising from the ashes he would have forgiven my lack of effort at that time. We were under the impression he had longer left, that was my excuse for having no contact with him around that time. There was still time left, I thought — he knew my intentions. This experience taught me to put more energy into keeping contact with people, just to let them know I'm still here thinking of them if nothing else.

I tend to be the guy instigating contact rather than holding out on the other person. I wish people would be more considerate like that with me sometimes, but I don't mind being the one who exerts the small amount of energy. I wonder whether it was just a lesson learned that influenced me to make the effort that weekend before Emma died, or whether The Phoenix was watching and didn't want me to feel that guilt again. I ended up feeling guilty on Monday as I only gave myself time to visit Emma's grave at Southern Cemetery.

I took the first of the hay fever tablets I'd just purchased before facing the beautiful blossoming trees and flowers of the cemetery. The tidy grave with fresh flowers said other people had been here earlier. Three years already had passed since people were to gather around this spot, people from school who'd I'd not seen since it ended, and people who I didn't know and who wouldn't know me. One person can be important and special to a lot of people. Multiplicity, a different person to different people. I remembered Emma for how she was a part of my life.

Anniversaries like this can remind you about important values and encourage you to move on with the life you are still living. I contacted Vicky from school the week before, after we hadn't seen each other for over a year and a half. After visiting Emma I met up with Vicky, knowing it wouldn't feel like such a long time had passed. Although we hadn't seen each other in person or done any of the things together we used to do weekly, I knew she was still there and her of me. We went for a meal and got up-to-date then did what we used to do most often, we went to the cinema.

Spider-Man 3 was a long watch, but as per my usual cinema-going rules I would not empty my bladder until the credits rolled. This was my first time seeing a film at the cinema since starting to wear glasses again, and sitting on the front row—again, like we always used to—meant I had to keep moving my head to see. I forgot about that caveat — good job it wasn't Star Wars.

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Entry #22, published on Wednesday, 16^th of May 2007 at 00:19 local time (Swatch Internet Time @008 .beats)

Returning in 2008 ;-)