I seem to do most of my blogging in one of two places. At home, where I’m sat comfortably in a large leather chair, tucked away upstairs, but not quite far enough away from the Skype based yells of glee from Wee Man and his on-line gaming buddies. Failing that, at work with a personal laptop late on a Friday. Friday afternoons are funny things. Well, they are to me 🙂 There’s that element of excitement that it’ll be the weekend soon and speaking personally, I find something rather magical about Friday nights. I guess it’s the idea that it’s a gateway to the weekend. So currently, I’m sat at work looking out of the dark glass into the early evening. The clocks have gone back, so Autumn is well and truly upon us.
A Few Short Years
It was our anniversary the other day. Fifteen lovely years between the Ever Foxy Mrs Jones and myself. I am, perhaps obviously, very glad of that ever lengthening number. I don’t state that as a smug-married-person, moreover someone who is thankful that we keep working at our relationship. I mean, somehow we muddle through what life throws at us. I feel a twinge of guilt at some of the sh** I’ve brought to the door, so to speak. The bad times of a rubbish job in the 90s, my coming out over being trans and the bouts of depression last year or so.
But, to use a well love phrase: it’s not all bad news. I’ve never cheated on Mrs J (and never wish to). Yes, I am far from perfect in terms of housework, but I try to do bits here and there. I’m not a sports fan, so no disappearing to the terraces on a Saturday, nor insisting on watching the match / Sky Sports, etc. I’m not a big drinker, but I do like to go out with the (t)girls once in a while. I don’t forget our anniversaries and there is always something along with the card: be that flowers, jewellery, books, etc. Things that I know she’ll like. I don’t get cross when she doesn’t do the same, because unlike me, Mrs J’s work is way out of town and with the late afternoon school run, she’s not got that much time on her hands. I try to keep the trans stuff away from family life as I can. It’s not always easy, but I do what I can to keep it under wraps where possible. Mind you, looking at the positive, having a trans-partner means you will get more thought put into material gifts. 😉 What about you, dear reader, do you find it tough to keep all the plates spinning, or have you worked out some magic formula to keep everyone happy? If you know the secrete of the latter, I’d love to know 🙂
Don’t fear the Reaper?
In other news, I was listening to the radio today and there was talk about a book / art thingy about death. No, not the tall, bony dude with the big cloak and the scythe Alternatively, and for Sandman fans, not the cute gothic girl either. 🙂 Okay, I think I’ve tortured that gag enough – let’s move on.
I tuned in midway through the piece, so I missed the start of it. The bit that made me think was that we – we being western society – don’t give much thought to our own passing. Now, being an ego-centric blogger / comment tart, off went my imagination into what the folk meant by that. Do I think about my own passing? My legacy? Those I leave behind? What if I died tomorrow?
To be honest, no, I don’t think about any of those things. I have, when the Black Dog was with me, thought about death. I wondered what would happen if I was no longer here. From a practical point of view, I’m well insured, although having had that bump in the car last year was a reminder on how precarious life can be. Plus, Wee Man was upset as I was off ill the other day. He’s a sensitive soul, bless him, and seeing me laid out – not literally – freaked him out a bit. Likewise my own dad, I worry about him too. He’s not getting any younger and there will be a time when he’s not longer with us. That, I do find upsetting.
As a family, the Jones Massive are fairly tight knit (Ed: and highly strung? 😛 ), so I’m confused by those who have family relationships that are not as close. I’m not saying the latter are wrong, or lesser in any way; just different to what I am used to. Perhaps it seems odd, in that I’m not overly worried about me going. I more worried about other people passing on instead. I don’t know if that makes me sound more selfish or not! 🙂 Maybe I’ve still got to get my head around the idea that one day, I won’t be here.
I’ll be honest with you and say that I was more worried about getting old – or maybe more accurately, getting older 🙂 – than I used to be. I think that’s probably vanity talking. But being what I am, make-up can cover a few sins, so it’s not exactly the end of the world is it? Part of me would rather grow old gracefully than do the 1661 thing. You know, 16 from the back, 61 from the front. 🙂 Mind you, I’d make a rough looking 16 year old 😀
So legacy? The obvious answer is my family. I hope that I’ve done enough to give them enough love and understanding, so they can make their own way in the world when I’m no longer with them. I suppose from the point of this blog, it may well be that if Google keeps running this service (and I don’t delete the account), that these words could well be here when I’m no longer here to update them.
Between you and I, that’s part of the reason I started this here blog. Well, the other two being to connect with people and also in the hope that someone would find the message that if I can handle this trans stuff, so can they. So going back to the original reason, the idea of leaving something behind. I guess it’s more than a little egocentric, but hey, I think you need a certain amount of self-importance to think that what you write (Ed: drone?) somehow would want to be read by others, But that aside, I sometimes get blog followers who aren’t trans and I wonder what they (or even social historians?) make of all this. Perhaps I’ll never know, they don’t tend to comment. Perhaps they come here to look for plus size shoes and boots. 🙂