This dying business – I’ve always thought that living was there to get to know stuff.

As a philosophy, I’ve heard that, many times.

And I seem to have internalised it to an extent where I haven’t thought about it much, even sneering to myself at the very idea – how simplistic that seems.

But it’s there, that idea, in me, floating around, not so easily dismissed; we’re here to learn.

I think of Dad (and Mam, though she is further away, having died so long ago now – it is as though when people die, they get further and further away from you) – but Dad and Mam – I envisage (and it is that – I see them in my mind’s eye) – I envisage that they know, now, all about what troubled me.

Maybe they know more about it all than I do.

Or maybe have them there, knowing, so that I can have this dialogue with each of them about it – on-going as I discover, more and more, what is there in my mind, and what I remember.

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