Memorials are good things.

.
.
I wasn't sure I would make it out.  Will, wish, want, even need, sometimes, are superseded by the way it must be.  If my body can't be pushed it won't go.  Plus, being ill makes it so tough things are tougher still.  Much as the notion of carrying 50 pounds isn't a cherished notion, but adding a broken arm or worse leg into the equation and...  Even then, sometimes, to survive, one does the deed even with the tough breaks the world deals.  This time I got my way, at least for this part of things.

There were a number of people who have died at the apartment.  Three.  None of whom had a proper funeral.  Money is what it is, and this, and that.  Kin are often just about as old, perhaps older, than those who have died.  There are many reasons why not.  And I don't begrudge, mostly.  But for those of us who aren't family...  So, rolling our own seems about what is left.  And it worked well, as I see things.  A number of us talked.  My friend who still is there couldn't speak.  I wasn't sure, but ended up speaking of him.  He has been my best friend longer than I have known many people.  We have advised each other, and ignored each other's advice, fought, and decided that wasn't a reason to not be friends.  He will be missed.  I keep thinking of him as alive though.  At the memorial, after a bit of various talking by some, I saw something on the bridge he haunted often, and I... just thought it was him.  Odd how that happened.

Yeah, I do feel much better.  I will figure out where he is buried, one way or another, and make it over to visit soon.  I'll invite those who might wish to go as well.  It was good to hear others speak of him.  I didn't really know the other folk who died, but was glad to know that they were being remembered as well.  Now I can deal with it.  I won't let him, like so many others, fade and disappear, until they became ghosts in the machine.  Though I am not sure, with my health issues, that I had much choice.  Though I suspect I truly tried to hide those people, some of them.  That's when trouble really starts.  You should bury the body, not the memory.

All good.  I do feel much better.  I am grateful they held the event, I thank God I made it, and I am pleased I was able to say a few words.  I pray that he is resting well.  He may have made some mistakes, but his guilt brought him around, and perhaps some other things.  I think he really turned around in time and... just chose better.  He was a great friend to have.  He will be missed.  He told me he had begun praying some time back.  And while I couldn't get him to go to church, I understand that.  So many people, and when so ill, tired, broke often, and more with his mobility problems...  I can pray for his soul and leave those things in God's hands.  And with some real hope.  I just need to visit his grave.

Nights and days are going a bit kittywampus with this and that.  But, fine.  I've done... better.  I made it, at least, to this.  I've gotten some of the backlog fixed.  I've started medicines again.  Yeah.  Whatever else, now I can just make it through life as it arrives, not worry about time, but begin digging back into things... as I may.  Good night.