Don’t know why she still slept on her side of the bed

The emptiness that you left still ringing in her head

Told her that she’ll be fine

Gotta live for the good times ahead

Oh mother

Oh Simply Red

Oh father

Oh Papa

Oh how bad I wanted you to listen to Mario’s How do I breathe Papa

But it was just one week after coming back from London that you departed

You could never listen to that song

Or watch Schindler’s list or A theory of everything

But you sweetheart, you my father, my brother, my son, my heart

You told me about the Holocaust, about genocide, about Stephen Hawking and black holes.

You did it all. You told me all. You instilled in me a desire for learning and loving and living.

And now on your 11th death anniversary, one year added to a decade, in this month of November, this cold month, on the 30th, your 11th time departure and all that you’ve left behind have me going on, have her going on, have all us of going on. So in Simply red’s words, we’ll stop regretting all the things left unsaid and undone. Even as we are sometimes unable to breathe and little did we know at the time what Mario meant when he repeated that chorus over and over, now there are times when we live it, live through it and live above and beyond it.

To all those who’ve gone, beloveds we remember you, we miss you and you live through us. We’re your extensions. In essence you’re going on just as we’re! You’re going on with us!