Down or out?

 The 17 year old who threw a boardmarker at you and ordered you out of the classroom is 70 now. 

Today she stands at your grave, uncomfortable in black, a woman who wants a colourful funeral, 

Hates the dark crows of death.  But you were 70 even at 26 so today for your farewell

She bows to your wishes, but remembers how once the pink lace tucked underneath surprised and

And delighted. 

Actually in the end, I thought I looked okay in black and although the funeral made me and probably most people there pensive, the black did not scare me in the way it has sometimes.  Instead I suppose perhaps because you were the most traditional  of men, it seems fitting for you . I wish though that you were still here and that I had picked the phone up rather than just messaging you in the last year.  I would have come if I had known you were ill.   I cannot make it up to you, just share my thoughts here.  Ironically though whilst grief has dominated today, there is anger too, friendships are never simple things and we can lose people in more ways than one. 

The friend who yet again complains you failed to tell them when your Dad died, even though you have apologised and explained you were wiped out when it happened. The word cow comes to mind. 

The same friend whose very words have left you reeling after each contact.  My jolly halloos denounced, my simple but heartful "yours" trounced, my lengthy texts bounced.   None of them conveying to you, that they were sent sent with an embrace.  You tell me, none of them good enough. The word cow comes to mind. 

Nevermind she hasn't rung for two years, the fact that your friends shut her out enough to condemn you, That for years you have felt like something about you really annoys her.  The word cow comes to mind.   

She says friendship is about ringing her, communing with her, talking with her, that is friendship.  Not this thing I do, this English thing, keeping in touch.  The word cow comes to mind.  

The word cow comes to mind.     But what if true friendship is valuing the person, accepting them, loving them, regardless, then who is the cow? 

Grief when someone dies goes through stages, but so does the grief of losing a valued friend.  I don't know now whether this person has been a friend,  perhaps I have been getting it wrong all this time, or perhaps we just needed to clear the air, but at this point I just feel angry about it.  However, I will sit with it.   The loss of Michael and my guilt at not being in touch more (though I know why I wasn't) might make me lean one way, on the other hand sometimes it is just good to let a friendship go.