Lizzy and I went to the theatre again last night, to see Afterlife. It’s nothing to do with the Ricky Gervais series by the way.
It’s a play about you ( the deceased ) going to the next place.
The basic premise was that in your ‘ afterlife’ you would live in a moment, for all eternity, of your choosing. The play features several dead people making their choices, and the ‘ angels ‘
( who are more ‘ admin workers ‘ than cherubic typa angels ) helping to nudge the dead into choosing their for ever memory, and then recreating it for them, before they go off and ‘ live ‘ in it for ever more.

Of course I imagine that I wasn’t alone in the audience in spending the next hour thinking about what moment I would choose for my future eternity, rather than listening to / watching the play properly!
Like everyone I’ve got a lot of memories to choose between, but then all sorts of factors kick in to narrow your list of potentials.

Once you’ve been through a bitter divorce, from a union that covered more than 25 years, then ALL of those memories become tainted ( which obviously is a lot of ‘ once good’ times ) Also all of the memories that involved people that post divorce didn’t treat you the same, also get tainted… and you don’t really want to live for all eternity with those situations.
For me, stuck in a non working body, I’m obviously not going to be in a blimmin wheelchair in Heaven, am I, given the option not to be? Lots of brilliant pre injury sporting moments just surged into contention – scoring specific tries in rugby games, skiing in powder when everything was just technically as good as it got, powering along in a kayak and feeling unbeatable in that moment… all seem like perfectly good ways to spend for ever.. ?
Then you feel guilty that it’s just you ( and nature ) and think more about moments with your children ( and in my case when they were young – and yes pre wheelchair – and still ‘ worshipped ‘ their Dad ). Those memories for me though are also tarnished, given what happened afterwards, and it’s hard to just remove all the after stuff and try to only remember the joy of the moment. Well, if say your best friend of 30 years then stole all your money, for example, you’d find it hard to frame that one time best friend in your positive memory, because essentially they’ve f’d up your default view of them, right ?

So here I am the day after, and I haven’t decided what I’d have. In the play they do make reference to blokes in particular being fixated on living in a sex moment for ever, and yes I can very much affirm that that would be more than acceptable to me ( read lots of guys ) … but I shan’t name partner name(s) here .. but I don’t think it’s ‘ deep ‘ enough, is it?

Having said that, I’m not deep, so I’ll probably go with something sporting or sexy! You only live in that moment, so you don’t have to experience guilt or anything else at all for having chosen it, rather than anything else.

Doesn’t sound too bad, does it, really?

But don’t knock my choice til you’ve done the thought process yourself, dear Reader.

My journey home was a shocker though. My train seemed to have just evaporated, so I got another from a different platform, and asked to get ramp assistance in Barnes station. In my head I was getting off at Mortlake, which IS accessible.
Having been ramped off the train in Barnes though, I found myself on a platform in the middle of the tracks, with only stairs to bridges to get out. Well yes, I’m not entirely blameless, but perhaps the train guard should have pointed out that if he got me off there, I’d be totally stranded…
There I was at 11.30 pm, in the dark, on a deserted platform… unable to escape.

Well I know that society has broken down a bit/ lot but I’m happy to say that angels actually still walk with us and 3 strangers came to my assistance, then got another to help. Finally a group of black youths pitched in as well.
It’s not everyone’s ideal scenario – stuck in a wheelchair and then a group ( that often get a bad press ) rock up.
I’m happy to report though that the Brothers pitched in unhesitatingly and my ragtag group of bearers became The Brotherhood of Man…

With me aloft like Caesar…

I shook all their hands and went on my way, feeling grateful.

2 thoughts on “Heavenly

  1. Well done Russ for your tenacity in going out and about despite severe restrictions and a difficulties. Glad that decent people helped you!

    1. The truth is that I never know if they will. It’s pot luck.
      It really could have gone either way.
      But last night it went as it should have.

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