I will not pretend I understood you. You worked too hard for any woman. It was unnatural. I guess you just liked what you did. You were good at that.
I cannot write your eulogy. You were so unknown, like a damp echo of a person to me, I would resent you telling me things I needed to know.
And third time around, I know that the words don't need tailoring.
Screw you for leaving
without allowing me a chance to say goodbye.
I remember seeing you last by the side of the river. I spoke to you, and you were there.
It was a million miles just around the corner from where we worked. You'd scold me for something. I didn't give a single toss.
Sometimes I was right. Often you had the higher ground.
You would speak. I would listen then you'd take your turn. You were polite, kind and patient.
I remember you would ask me to do things. I would though I was lazy. Nothing was too much trouble.
It was mutual.
I know you leave behind people. They will be sadder than I am. That does not offer any indication.
Am gutted.
Just because I believe the universe is infinite and we shall meet again, do not think that I will not miss you. I will as much as I miss the tides not stood by the sea.
You managed me. You were kind to me, even though you should have earned more for your troubles. I can only hope you hated me secretly. It would lessen the hurt.
I knew only a fraction. I was lucky to know. Though I resented you, wondered, and wished you well, but could not tell who you were.
I will see you again. That will be your punishment for giving a damn.
Mine will be having to wait to swear at you awaiting an admonishment.
You, sitting at a computer. It's terminal. Each booking. A reservation for heaven.
Peace and love.
(I had to edit this twice to get this through the censors, but you know what I meant!)
Richard Lee
10/12/2020
