...tomorrow is exactly one year since I last saw Ben alive. The specific memory in that part of my mind that depends on the actual experience: my own personal memories of that day, of Ben on that day, of what he said, what we did together, the last thing I said to him, all those are fuzzy and imprecise.
What we do, of course, these days, to supposedly add precision and detail to those memories, is to look at photos taken at that time. I have a series of 9 photos I took between 6.37 pm and 10.13 pm on that night. I also have a series of 198 (!) photos taken by Ben, apparently between 12.07 am and 12.56 am, which are entirely of me and Shoris (and Ben’s legs) – presumably because everyone else had left by that time.
I have a vague recollection of Shoris leaving later on; but specifically a strong memory of Ben giving me a big hug because he was not going to see me before he left for Mexico. I think he was driving over to Lorraine’s for the night...but he said a proper goodbye before his trip. I’m sure I told him to be careful.
And tomorrow night we are getting together again for Burns Night – most of the same people...the same enormous haggis from Randall...some of the same whiskies...the same address to the haggis...the same Burns poems and songs. But of course, no Ben in person. Not that I would have expected Ben to be at Burns Night: his life lived largely unaffected by external dates, deadlines or imperatives, but rather directed and moved by his own life’s experiences. It is not for anyone to judge the selection that Ben was making – his to choose, not ours – and when his choice included us, we have reaped the benefit of that. Maybe Ben’s choices are still being made – again, it is not for me or anyone else to judge whether that is still happening.
For me, though, I will miss him tomorrow; I will miss him being here in person – but that is not a novel experience! But reaching back, without the intercession of photos, the memory feels too fuzzy – do I wish for a clearer memory? Would that be an improvement? He is gone, physically – I won’t hug him ever again, physically. But do those photos, do the recollections of others, make things in any way better? I am not sure.
Sally Mann talks about that – I will go and read her words and see if they clarify my own feelings....
[...see Burns Night (2)]