80
By mcmanaman
- 211 reads
I'm happy to go at eighty.
Two of my friends, both called Matthew
died in their thirties and maybe
if they hadn't shared a name
it wouldn't have hit so hard.
Something changed in all of us
between the funerals of the two Matthews
I thought the grief would take us all.
Some people might be brave and see what happens next
to see more Prime Ministers, to see
who keeps winning the league and see your grandchildren
meet their own grandchildren, medicine
and treatments keep getting better and better
and it's definitely worth a go, but it's not for us.
We're not risk takers. We don't keep drinking
when we get back from the pub.
I'd like to go in a way that suits
the lifestyles of those around me.
It has to be in a nice way. When Jessica's
mum got dementia and didn't recognise
Jessica, she said this isn't something I can deal with.
It was bad enough when her mum got grey hair.
I can still remember that, Jessica says.
I still remember her getting the grey hair.
It'll be like we're all getting on a train
and going somewhere in fact that's how we'll say goodbye
waving from the window as the train sets off,
everyone waving goodbye from the platform.
Maybe that's exactly how it will happen.
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