Gary Strachan – "Write" Said Fred
Whimsical observations from deep within an erratic mind
Yesterday afternoon, I had a journey into Morley to pick up my dad's ashes. I'm unsure why, but my inaugural viewing of his urn was one I found even more distressing than delivering the eulogy at his funeral. The sign of the finality ashes bring with them maybe triggered this increased level of sorrow. Alternatively, or maybe in tandem to... Continue Reading →
Yesterday's service, cremation and wake for my father proceeded as successfully as these melancholic occasions can do. Much to the appreciation of his brood, over 100 people congregated in my parent's village church to celebrate the life of our much loved family head, some making a 200 mile round trip to pay their respects. As the consequence of... Continue Reading →
Comfort zone, erstwhile sanctuary of clan chief Former chamber of serenity, grape and musical refrain Empty leather seat beckons product of god’s own county to no avail Empty brood hearts beckon man of god’s own county to no avail Sinatra in solitude, Darrin in desolation his clans hereafter. Yorkshireman’s invite to his sanctuary has... Continue Reading →
Week commencing 30th October is going to be a tough week for my family. A few days of build up to my father's funeral on Wednesday, followed by the aftermath when his passing will no doubt finally hit us like a freight train. Incidentally, I initially misspelt freight as fraught in the previous sentence, which on reflection... Continue Reading →
Yesterday afternoon, I wrote a eulogy to deliver at my father's funeral on Wednesday. As it would be highly inappropriate to do so, I'm not going to publish those words in this narrative. The reason I highlighted this activity is merely part of journaling some of my Friday activities in chez Strachan junior. I realise this is stating the obvious, but writing... Continue Reading →
An old acquaintance, who contacted me to send their condolences after hearing of my father's passing on Wednesday, recommended an effective way of dealing with grief is to occupy my mind with a distraction. He's never had to deal with the passing of a close family member but on his recent college course one of... Continue Reading →
I didn't feel compelled to sit down and pen my daily thoughts yesterday. The darkness of the place I found myself following the passing of my father overnight prohibiting any creative want....... On reflection, perhaps grieving alone in the cupboard under the stairs wasn't such a good idea after all. Our beloved family head passed away peacefully... Continue Reading →
Since embarking on this literary voyage, I've written these tales of inanity in a multitude of establishments. Today's offering is being penned in, or just outside, my moribund dad's room in a West Yorkshire hospice. The circumambulating atmosphere a justapos of the distressing sight of witnessing a loved one's suffering in the last hours of... Continue Reading →