i_kender

I’ve been thinking about Selena a lot recently, which I suppose is understandable. Her death last year was sudden, shocking, and the most traumatic thing I’ve experienced in many years. It had profound effects on my life personally, as well as being a monumental event in its own right.

So on

spintrian’s suggestion, we went down to visit her on her birthday rather than the day she died. He thought that this might serve to turn the event into more of a celebration of her life than a memoriam on her death.

We met up on the day in Brighton, and mooched around town for a bit. I thought it seemed appropriate. We had Subway sandwiches. We wandered around Borders. We headed to the beach for a short while. And then we took a bus to the cemetery. That damned walk was as hot and taxing as I remembered it. We had to pause for a rest before we got all the way to the top. When we finally got there, to the little plot at the top of the hill, I was shocked to see how it had changed. Of course there were more plots than there had been... that was only to be expected. What I hadn’t anticipated was how overgrown and wild the area would be. The weeds and wild grasses were knee-high or higher. Each grave bore a lonely tree, waving in the minimal breeze. It was hot and sweltering. Rob’s hay fever was acting up, I was short of breath because I smoke too much.

Unfortunately, it was only then that we realised we had both forgotten the number that marked Selena’s grave. Her mother had sent it to us in a letter. Rob had left it at home. I had thought to ask him if he had it, or if I should bring it along, but had forgotten. So we searched. For an hour, perhaps more, we wandered through that high scorched ground, parting the weeds to peer at graves, ever careful where we stepped. The scornful sun beat down, unblinking. Rob thought he had the right number, but try as we might we couldn’t find it. The numbering and location of the plots made no logical sense.

We both had flowers we’d bought at Sainsbury’s on the way up. After we’d given up, we sat on a bench and held them limply in our hands. I felt dejected, disappointed, sad, and lost... echoing what I felt when she died last year. We sat there, mostly silent, for a while. And then, because there was nothing else to do, we left the flowers under the bench, abandoned, and walked back down the hill.

We met up with Matt (

blankbadge) and had a few drinks on the beach, sharing Selena stories. Made me smile.

That night, while sleeping over at a friend’s house (and right thankful I was, to still have friends in Brighton I could stay with) I dreamt all sorts of vivid dreams. In one, I kept seeing the numbers on one of the graves we’d wandered back and forth through. ZT 41... it was still in my head, quite clear, when I woke.

After meeting up with

buddleia and

blankbadge, we wandered back up to the cemetery. This time was just as taxing... I must remember to take a taxi in future... but we made it in the end. It didn’t take me very long to find the grave I’d dreamt about... it had been cleared more recently than some of the others around it. Sure enough, it was Selena’s... there was still the fragment of a note I’d left her the last time.

We stayed for a while...

spintrian and I chatted to her. I read out the messages people had given me, including making a faun sound and a soft breath (well, what can I say? The girl had strange friends.) We even found our flowers from the day before, and left them resting on her grave. The rowan tree is very pretty... it has fern-like leaves, and was much bigger and healthier than I expected. Rob and I talked about how appropriate a rowan tree was, the magical properties etc.

The view from up there is quite astonishing... I’m not sure if I’ve mentioned it before. She has a lovely spot... it’s right up at the top of the plot, gets good sunshine, and is quiet and secluded. From up there, you can see the sea and the sprawl of buildings that make up Brighton on one side, and the vast emptiness of the South Downs on the other. You can’t quite make out the university... it’s just over a hill. But it’s pretty up there, and quiet, ripe for contemplation or quiet communion.

I took a moment while the others weren’t watching to have a quick chat with Selena. I mentioned a few things that have happened to me since I was last there, in August just before I left Brighton. I was a little shamed-faced to admit that I hadn’t achieved that much in the past year, but I assured her that I was working on it. I would have cried... my eyes did well up... but the others were there, so I held it back. I told her we all missed her. I told her we loved her. I told her I’d be back when I could.

By the way, I’m not claiming any great psychic powers in finding the grave. I prefer to give all the credit to my subconscious, which is cleverer than I am right now.

The rest of my time in Brighton was good, if brief. I was stood up by a friend, and in turn stood up another. I opted out of a big night on the Saturday, and was glad to do so. I was fed homemade aphrodisiac chocolates instead by random women. I can’t say whether they worked. But I got the chance to walk along the seafront after the pub, which I really enjoyed. And after a lovely pub lunch on the Sunday, I stood for long moments staring out at the seafront, and all the crispy people lying decadently across the pebbles, and was satisfied. I don’t know whether I miss Brighton. I miss the sea. I miss the good times I had there. But it’s the people who make up a place that make it home, and I doubt I would be happy if I was still in Brighton now. It’s not just Selena, not at all. It was time, time enough and time, time to move on. But that doesn’t stop the pangs. It doesn’t change the fact that London is still a work in progress as far as I’m concerned. That sometime I still feel like I’m in exile, or Limbo.

I miss Selena. I miss my friend. I love you hon. But then you know that. You know it all. Keep an eye on me, if you can, please?

It’s good to feel I have someone in my corner.

Special thanks to

spintrian

buddleia and

blankbadge for making the trip more fun than it should have been.