Diary of Lisa Taylor, reluctantly 42 (and a half)

Or.. 'f.ck me I'm forty.. two.. and a half', though can look 38 on a - not so deluded - good day. Or 'How to reconcile a well experienced mind trapped in a still - but for how long? – youthful body.' Don't have the 30somethings angst/problems, neither have the resigned (?) ageing baby-boomers in safe family territory outlook yet. Here's how I cope, one day all sexy women will get old... but never invisible. © Lisa Taylor 2005/6/7/8/9. Jeez.. so much for the 42 and-a-half delusion

Wednesday, November 25, 2009

24 November - Cerebral ictus

So, I'm angry all the time that I have no time due to work stress. Or one person at said work stress to be more precise. And so it is that I get a call from a good friend to inform me of the death 2 days prior of another friend, though one I have not been in touch with or met in the last 3 years at least due to just not having enough time. Well, it's not like he's been in touch either so am not feeling that guilty on that side. I remember though seeing his name /pic on another friend's FB and hovered over whether to contact or not and then decided best not to.

Now of course I feel immensely sorry that I didn't as my chance of talking to him has gone forever. He died at 48 of an anaeurysm. He was in his patisserie which he run with his father, the 83 year old widower with whom my friend had baked all the cakes that ever marked any occasion in our group of friends at home. Not too many of mine since I don't live in that town since forever but the cake for my 40th was duly made by him. M. has eaten many more than I have, her b'days, her wedding, her daughters b'days, the anniversaries and so on. Needless to say the father is super distraught and wails why not me, since his life had pretty much run a longer course. There is no why.

P. and I were born on the same day in different years. Back when we were much much younger, there was a 'could we/would we' thing going on occasionally, which me being me, I decided to explore at... 39 one visit, when I was bored. Ahem. Realising that for P. it was a more laden, important occasion, I swiftly made my feelings known. Though, i accepted a lovely necklace which I went on to lose a couple of years later. It would have never worked due to totally different lives and expectations and the fact that I don't really indulge in .. cakes. Or spliffs which he really liked and /or listening to anyone play the drums which he did. or that fact that he lived at home though he had his own quarters and was doing so primarily out of extreme affection for his widwoer father, to keep him company so to speak. Or having a below average sized penis which he had. See, now that he's dead, if we're to believe religious myth, he can read my thoughts and know that that was the primary reason. Am not ashamed to think it, he did find a g/friend in recent years who was probably never concerned with such a thing.

No, what I'm more ashamed of, is the fact that when I received the news I was in the middle of the usual busy stressful day and had just a small window to shed a few tears and talk about what happened, call my family who hadn't been informed yet, they knew him well too and then go back to .. whatever it was. Of course am going to think about him often as and when but already the remarkable thing is that i don't have that many memories of him. The ones that come to mind are few and the same repeating and they're not that salient. We really don't mean a lot to anyone but the closest closest people.


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