Sic Transit Gloria Seami

I walked from East Melbourne to Parliament station today. Through Fitzroy Gardens. Past the spot where Chris and I had our family engagement bash. Well not really past the spot, rather I altered my route so I passed within site of the spot. I realised where I was when I was half way through the park. It was one of the last times I saw dad either not in his house or not in hospital. I remember dad perching himself in a wheelchair (it's arguable as to whether he really needed the wheelchair or not....) next to the park bench. Sports coat on over a faded and hole-riddled polo shirt and a pair of faded jeans that were too big for him now. His feet in the sandals that were the only shoes he could wear owing to a badly fused bone in his big toe (or something....)

Passing through the park, turning away from the spot, I realised I was skirting the Peter Macallum Cancer Institute. To go past or not...? My feet seemed to decide for me, as they took me to St Andrew's Place, and I passed in the shadow of that white cubic building, knowing nothing had changed within. I know what the inside of that building looks like now. In many ways I wish I didn't. In other ways I'm glad I was there as much as I was.

I don't know what the point of this post was, just that places and memories are always intertwined for as long as either exist.

I got him in, but it was too late.

Menelaus caught the bad end of a car. It happened just as I was heading in to Chris' gate. Heard a thump, saw a limping cat dart into someone's front yard.

Made the decision to look at what had happened....

Checked the fur - white. Phew.

Went around into the front yard....

Ginger cat sprawled out not moving.

Checked the tail - shaved with surgical marks....

mstakenidentity's cat was there.......

So I brought him in and told her.

Nothing else to do.

Now he's wrapped in in a towel. I'll help her bury him tomorrow.