333 days….

Mum came with me out to the cemetery today.  She provided the moral support and helped me choose a grave marker which will soon contain your details and has space for mine.

With photos.

and I am going to stipulate in my Will that the photo of me will be one from when i was young and beautiful.  There’s no way that there will be a young and handsome picture of you next to a 90-year-old drooling prune.

It will replace this:

(not your best angle)…

Not his best angle on 365 Project

The slab of concrete with our family name after the four blocked out names where it’s been used before.

The only good part about this exercise was that the complete and utter fruitloop of a woman who normally runs the cemetery was not there.  When I originally tried to organise a grave marker last April, this nutcase went on and on about “designing” your plaque because she’d done one for some semi-famous boat racer who is also buried there.

….and she wanted to put a picture of a car on your plaque because “he liked cars didn’t he”.  (Yeah – except I’d just told her that you died in a car accident).

So I was relieved not to see her demented face greet Mum and I as we went into the cemetery office.

Instead, a young, beautiful woman did a perfect job of providing us with information without being in our faces at all.

….and as a result, I’ve organised the grave marker.

Well as soon as I e-mail a photo and pay the fee I have.

Again, not a task that I thought I’d have to do at the age of 40.

I miss you, my man, my rock, my world.

I love you.