Author: Cathy Penman

Life and Death

Posted on by Cathy Penman

Salutations!

You used to flatter me sometimes, when we had conversations about what we really should be doing with our lives, and what perfect jobs our characters were suited to, by saying that I would make a good King.  The old fashioned sort, who was brave and noble and ruled fairly and whom everyone loved.  Or maybe it was me who came up with that idea!

We also used to say I would make a good non-religious priest.  Someone full of wisdom and caring who would impart his wonderful warm character on other people, would help them, counsel them, all the things a good priest might do, but without the faith, which I didn’t have.

You used to encourage me to express myself in writing, to write essays about the world, about my outlook towards things. There was never time though, it was always something on the ‘to do’ list that never got done.

But hey, now I have time on my hands (eternity in fact) so maybe I can impart some wisdom and sentiment through you!  But how to begin my ‘ministry’?

People!

All 7 or more billion of you!  Every single one of you is right now on the opposite side of a divide from me, a horrible big thick iron curtain of a divide, the boundary between life and death.

But every single one of you will one day be over here on my side of that ultimate boundary.  In a hundred or so years, none of you 7 billion will be on the planet, you’ll have died and been replaced by a new lot.

How can we bear to know we are going to die?  Of course people shouldn’t walk around fearing it every minute, you have to take life for granted to a certain extent, or you wouldn’t be able to function.

The people who are alive, all those people around you, in the street, on the bus stop, on telly, at work – they are all there by default, all on the life side of the divide.  And yet slowly – or actually not so slowly – they are gradually all dropping away, like the boundary between life and death is a sieve, a strainer, and all the time poor souls are falling through, dropping out, with most of those left living not even noticing their passing.

There is no solution, there is no message.  If you cannot believe there is anything beyond death, you have only this life you hold in your hands now, in this precious minute.

Cling to it, treasure it, make the most of it – hope it lasts you a little longer.

And be happy.

And help people.

(Oh well, maybe I wouldn’t have made such a good priest after all.)

Happy Anniversary (Not)

Posted on by Cathy Penman

Happy Anniversary John!

Today would have been our 27th Wedding Anniversary.  And the date is the 27th, so we would have been saying, hey, it’s 27 years on the 27th!

Well, sadly, we didn’t make it.  We made 25 years (nice trip to Venice to celebrate), we made 26 (I’ll have to look up what we did, probably just a local restaurant).

27 years and I’m standing by his graveside.  At least we didn’t split up.  At least it was a case of ’til death us do part’.

It was a beautiful day at the cemetery, sunny and lovely white clouds and windy.  No-one there but me.  I took some deep red and orange/golden chrysanthemums.  I didn’t cry much today, I just felt sad.

This awful, awful thing that by definition your partner is no longer experiencing what you are experiencing.  No-one ever sees their own grave – not after the event anyway.

It’s growing over with weeds and I’m not sure if I should clear them or let it revert to nature/grass.

I thought – poor John, it will soon be autumn and the leaves will be falling from the trees again, a whole summer of ‘lush’ (we used to joke about that word with regard to spring greenery etc) growth in the cemetery around your final resting place, that you never saw, gone.  Soon back to another winter, and you a whole year in the ground.

Sometime, maybe (though I can see it’s over the top), I will go through all my diaries and note down what we were doing on every Wedding Anniversary.  Does it matter though?  That first 27 August mattered, you crying at the altar, you were so moved, at the church on the Isle of Wight.  Then fast forward to graveside.

We so often used to use, in day to day conversation, joking about something, the Private Eye refrain, ‘Er, that’s enough.(something/whatever it was)..’  (Private Eye readers will know what I mean.)

Thought for the day: ‘Not enough anniversaries.’

A few more would have been nice, John.  There weren’t enough.

(Er, that’s enough profundity and gloom!)

I Can See Our House From Here

Posted on by Cathy Penman

My love

I wish I was with you, sitting on the sunny bench in our garden (in the flesh, I mean).

I wish I could hold you, that we could hug each other again.

Don’t be too despondent.  I am coming to terms with what has happened, as you are.

I understand your urge to be creative, but don’t let it overwhelm you.

If you never created anything, if you never achieved anything, it wouldn’t matter.

The most worthwhile thing in both our lives was the relationship.  Don’t forget that.

We loved each other, but it’s over.  What can either of us do about it?  Nothing.

The ending was not of our choosing, neither of us wanted it to end.

I saw that you found an old printout of our house from a Google aerial photo – before the back garden was done.

(Yes, I remember having to cut that grass – we were right to get rid of it.)

I’m like Google now, looking down on our house, our garden.

Able to zoom in at any time and remember my life with you fondly.

It’s Not The Same Without You

Posted on by Cathy Penman

Having a particularly bad time at the moment.

I thought I was a bit ‘back to normal’.  The ship had righted, so to speak.  I was feeling more independent and looking to the future.

But today I feel like I’m walking around with a knife stuck in my soul.  I feel bereft.  I feel like the enormity of my loss is just going to keep hitting me again and again.

I’ve been doing some more sorting and have found some more lovely cards, from me to him and from him to me.  A postcard from him when he was away alone, saying ‘wish you were here’ and ‘it’s not the same without you’.  It’s gone in the ‘most precious things to keep’ box.

Also an early (fifth) anniversary card from my sister where she’s worked out how many days, hours, minutes, seconds we’d been together.  Imagine how many seconds, after 29 years!

I can just feel echos of myself in the future, becoming a lonely recluse.

It doesn’t help that I’m pouring my heart out online and yet not a single person has read anything I’ve written yet.  That’s another private horror.  You see the internet as a means of expression, and yet whatever you write or create is a drop in the ocean, and if no-one’s looking at it, it’s still just a secret thought in your head, a file on your computer that no-one else will ever open.

I had 29 years of companionship and intellectual stimulation and humorous conversation, 29 years of shared memories and love and kindness and happiness.

Now it’s just me, wandering round on my own, feeling profound.

Oh John, it’s not the same without you!

Bristol Zoo Gardens

Posted on by Cathy Penman
  • I was lucky that I got a space in a car park nearby at 10am. But this soon closed up and at 12 when I left everything said full so I suppose I would’ve given up if I’d arrived later.
  • Generally not a very big zoo, and no ‘serious’ animals (eg elephants, giraffe, camel, zebra, tiger, bears), but very nice gardens and a perfectly nice small attraction to walk around. (Did have lions and gorillas.)
  • Two male lions in a very small enclosure exhibiting the worst type of zoo behaviour, pacing constantly up and down – didn’t look happy.
  • Also saw one largish monkey on its own, looking like its behaviour wasn’t right – it was clutching on to its leg and kept hiding its head down. Maybe it was just trying to sleep but it looked very nervous, like it was trying to avoid seeing or being seen.
  • Lots of walk-through enclosures, houses etc. Went in Nocturnal House, Reptile House, Aquarium, walk-through flamingos, walk-through fruit bats, Butterfly House.  The wallaby one was closed, the seal/penguin one I didn’t bother with – it was the furthest away and no-one seemed to be going to it.
  • Best thing of all was ring-tailed lemur walk-through enclosure where you really saw them close up and one had two little babies – I took loads of photos.
  • Several giant animatronic models of insects set around the place as a feature – was obviously popular with children.
  • A design objection I’ve come across in zoos before – you walk all round it, then want to sit in a cafe before you leave, but the only cafe is back on the other side, not near the entrance.
  • Yes I did buy a cuddly toy – a nice quality Wallaby (funny cos I didn’t see one, but something I don’t have). Also a beautiful book on primates which I shall enjoy looking at.

DSC_0023DSC_0033DSC_0116DSC_0051DSC_00613

Summer

Posted on by Cathy Penman

Dear Widow

I’m writing to you today to remind you to enjoy life.

You never know how long it’s going to last.

I see that it is a beautiful, glorious summer morning, and that you have been reading a book outside and watering the pots. I’m glad you are no longer neglecting them.  It’s true they don’t matter, compared to human life and death.  But why should they suffer, why should they die?  The hydrangeas are innocent!

I know it’s painful for you to see the big buddleia (goodness, what a complicated spelling!) bush in the next door garden, because that was a plant I particularly liked.  But I’m glad it’s there, it’s drawing the butterflies and it’s nice to think of them making themselves available for you to look at and enjoy.

And stop fretting about the fact that I can’t feel the sunshine any more. I can, I can feel it through you, because I’m still in your heart, I hope!  And anyway, it’s even nicer where I am.

Be calm my love, and enjoy life for both of us.

Another Painful Card

Posted on by Cathy Penman

It was bad enough finding the ‘As long as there’s a me, as long as there’s a you – there’ll always be an us’ card.

Now I’ve found another difficult one, which despite being sad feels like the most precious treasure.

John was aware of when he was going to reach the age when his father died – he had worked out the date and must have told me.  The card is dated (presumably) the day after and I’ve written, ‘On the occasion of you outliving your father – CONGRATULATIONS ON YOUR CONTINUED EXISTENCE’.

Ouch.

Well, at least he did reach that moment.  But the existence only continued for another 5 years.

Oh dear, I was always a very profound person anyway; bereavement is making me so profound and thoughtful about this sort of thing, I can’t bear it.  The only solution is to try to be harsh and put these things from your mind.  Is that the right thing to do?

Weird Thought For The Day

Posted on by Cathy Penman

There’s some sort of condition, I can’t remember what it’s called (John would have known), where people become convinced that everyone they know isn’t really that person, they’ve been replaced by an impostor, and every object or possession they used to have – someone has come into their house and stolen those items but replaced them with identical ones.

My weird thought for today is that I feel a bit like that about this house and all my things.  It surely isn’t the same house that I lived in for 17 years with my husband.  I’m in a slightly different universe/reality.  Every molecule of it has been replaced and put back in the same place, and now it’s, well, the same house, but not the same house.  A different version of it.

Perhaps I am going mad.  Or perhaps I am just trying to explain how strange I feel.

West End Show: Matilda

Posted on by Cathy Penman
  • Took a while to get into it, at the beginning I thought it was too ‘kiddy’ and was annoyed that some of the words were unclear, but by the end, was full of admiration for the child cast.
  • Enjoyed the singing and particularly the acting of the woman in the ‘good teacher’ role – the way she stayed in character and kept appropriate expressions, eg even while dancing in the ballroom dance number.
  • Having been in a few workshops myself where they talk about ‘show’ rather than ‘tell’, I thought there were some very good examples of ‘show’ moments in her acting – simple things like keeping her hands held at her sides and hunching her shoulders to show she is timid and afraid and cowering; simple body positions and gestures can speak so loud on stage.
  • Some nice staging moments eg the ‘girl’ falling from the ceiling, the surprise lasers, the swings.
  • Music not particularly striking or memorable.
  • As with many shows (I’m becoming an expert) I thought the middle of the second act got a bit too turgid/dark/serious/boring.
  • I didn’t know the story going in and heard children talking about the fact she does magic and has special powers, so in a way was disappointed that that didn’t develop as much as expected. (I’ve read the book now – bought it at the theatre – the story in the book is more coherent).
  • In general, at the start I thought it would be a 5/10 at most but by the end I felt I’d really enjoyed it, so say 8/10.
  • Best choreographed curtain call I’ve ever seen, with the scooters – it was nice to be surprised with this simple but effective idea.

Marks out of ten for general enjoyment/entertainment value: 8

West End Show: Memphis

Posted on by Cathy Penman
  • I had never seen this show advertised anywhere and I notice it’s not in the main listings for some reason; I chanced upon it when a tube station was closed once and I ended up trying to catch a bus nearby.
  • I love going into things with no idea what to expect, and other than the implications from the title and the few pictures outside, I didn’t know what it would be about.
  • I thought it was fantastic, really really good musically, a great pleasure.
  • I am obviously behind the times because I didn’t realise until afterwards that the main lead was a famous X Factor person, Matt Cardle. This enabled me to form a judgement just based on his performance, rather than having an expectation from a famous person – and I thought he was vocally and acting-wise excellent.
  • Also the main woman is very well known and previously played Whitney Houston in another musical; this gives you an idea of the type of music and the type of singing – the type of ‘modern’, jazzy, florid singing I could never do.
  • There were some ‘dark’ scenes – maybe this is a prerequisite of shows, that they can’t be all pure froth and happiness – and of course the main theme and setting were serious. But I found it all very entertaining and well done.
  • Bought the CD and have been listening afterwards.
  • Absolutely love the idea of the guy who never speaks, but then at a crucial moment (so pleasingly predictably – you’d have been disappointed if it didn’t happen!), finds his voice – and it’s a brilliant voice and a lovely song.
  • Sort of sad that it’s not a 100% happy ending, but I guess more realistic.

Marks out of ten for general enjoyment/entertainment value: 9