Estate of….

19Jul11

I remember reading those words the day after Jeremy died.
For the estate of the late….awful, awful words. So final.
And the mail just keeps coming with these words on it.

I’m doing a bit of a quick trip around all six campus libraries. We launch our new library website next week and I’ve been going around giving some information sessions to staff. It’s always good to get the lie of the land. I only do a 3 hour desk shift once per week these days and my office is outside of the physical library so the campus visits are always a bit of a reality check and it’s nice to catch up with campus library staff. So it’s meant a bit of travel over the last few weeks.
Last week -Canberra, Melbourne and Ballarat, and then this week -Brisbane, Strathfield and North Sydney.

Of course this means I can stay with Max when I’m in Sydney.
Almost three months has gone since Jeremy died, which is incredible to believe. He is everywhere and nowhere, especially in and around Sydney. And these parts of Sydney – the city, Potts Point – Springfield Ave.

Carl and I had a special weekend in Sydney just gone. It was his birthday and we spent a wonderful 20 hours – high tea at the posh hotel we stayed in, then a great Queensland Theatre Company/Bell Shakespeare production of Faustus at the Opera House Playhouse, then a late supper sitting outside at Circular Quay drinking wine, then Sunday morning a wonderful exhibition of pre-Raphelite drawings at the AGNSW. And through it all Carl and I talked about selling up in a few years, maybe five – and buying and apartment in the middle of the city, either Sydney or Melbourne.
And now I’m here in Sydney, I’m not sure. Jeremy is here and everywhere and nowhere. I’m not sure if I can live around here any more and not be sad. I know…time. Time helps I know.
It’s good to see Max. We talk often, but I can’t rally imagine how hard it is for him. He said last night that it’s getting home from work when it really hits him. No Jeremy. Not that Jem was ever, ever home before Max, but just that finality of knowing he won’t be arriving…… The empty flat. The lights out. All very hard. How do you get used to that sort of thing???

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