This morning I passed an elderly man in my street, it is his street too, I said “Good Morning” he said “Good Morning” neither of us missed a step or changed our pace. We shared a greeting in the early quiet of Melbourne Cup Day. My eyes filled with tears, not sad tears, something about that simple exchange, on this day, touched me. Something about me and the passing of time moved me to tears. Not floods of tears, I mean just a special a tear or two…

“The essence of emotion [is] the collection of changes in body state that are induced in myriad organs by nerve cell terminals under the control of a dedicated brain system, which is responding to the content of thoughts relative to a particular entity or event.” Damasio, A. R. (1994) Descartes’ Error: Emotion, Reason and the Human Brain. New York: Grosset Putnam Books.

Mottsu and I met on Cup Day 25 years ago. I have known him for 25 years. Wow, I think to myself, that’s a long time and an odd thought, but I have continued to know him after died. My relationship with Mottsu didn’t stop when he drowned. Our relationship didn’t stop or start with the presence or absence of either one of us, it is something between us, in a space that is harder to quantify than it used to be when he was here, and it still a special relationship.

026Today is the first Tuesday in November, Melbourne Cup Day and this year I let my VRC membership lapse. For the first time in many years I am not wearing a hat on Melbourne Cup Day, I am not at the track, not drinking champagne, not missing the crowds… and I am smiling to myself as I write. Changes,and I’m happy today, in a quiet sort of smug and almost indescribable way. I am content with who I am, and how I am, I’ve placed a bet on The Cup race. I am happy with where I am today, and even happy with (most of) the trek that got me here.

Time passes and nothing stays the same, I grieve and I continue to consider myself as bereaved. Some say it gets better but it doesn’t necessarily get better. Part of me remains bereft, bereaved, and bewildered. I can’t count how many times someone has said that time heals all… and some wounds never heal. Time doesn’t heal,things change, nothing stays the same.