Today.

Today’s post is in memory of Uncle Richard, who left the earthly life one year ago today. A man with whom I enjoyed chatting about music, guitars, other instruments, lyrics and zany comedy. He could pick up any instrument and play it, and I was waiting for him to try out my violin. What I remember about him is (like myself) his ability to do whole Goon Show, Python Blues Brothers and other scripts verbatim. Whatever comedy film reference I came up with he knew exactly what it was. I also have a fond memory of him enjoying a hearty steak stew and dumplings at my home and listening to Peter Sellers until after midnight. I often see the artistic and creative side of him in my son, and my nan assured me that my own son’s nocturnal existence – ie sleeping in the day and up cooking at odd hours mirrored her experience of Richard as a young man. He always played in bands from the time he was a teenager, and I really relate to that as I have done so myself and was lucky enough to perform Mustang Sally with one of his last bands a few years ago. The last time he was at a party, he enjoyed singing along with the Fisherman’s Friends, and I have happy footage of that. I remember he once told me he often played Walk of Life by Dire Straits and yesterday my friend Laura Locke played it on her radio show for me.

Rather than leave flowers today, I put a link to a Myelodysplasia research site where you can make donations and I sent a donation in his memory. I also wrote a poem a few months back which is specifically for him and will appear in my next poetry book sometime next year. This is the poem below.

Bluebells

There must be more than stillness

that stands to stop in these woods;

more than a return to earth

and scattering of dust.

You must be more than memory;

a hope for song on the wind;

a blur of laughter caught 

out of focus,

for a few seconds on film.

Or accept that you were here,

and that’s enough?

Turn and leave the woods,

and walk away,

following worn footsteps down the path.