For whom the bell tolls

Today is Jeff’s Funeral. I’m not going. I did think some more about it and I’m not not going merely to avoid inconveniencing [...]. He’s being cremated in Scarborough and then there’s a do (a junk food buffet, which symbolises Jeff’s legendary unhealthy diet) at The Shambles, which involves stairs. So very long day, and it’s going to be very traumatic. To be honest, I don’t feel strong enough in myself, before we get to the risk of my presence detracting from what other people get out of it. In a few weeks time they are going to put his ashes in a Viking style long boat, ignite it and set it out to sea. There’s an article about this in The Whitby Gazette, which includes a rather blurry picture of Jeff. I might be able to go down to the beach watch this; we’ll see. Anyway, I don’t know what I’ll do today, I imagine it may be business as usual for me. I might have a quiet time in the afternoon. A person called Tinbasher pointed me towards this poem which I thought I would share with you. For Whom The Bell Tolls - John Donne No man is an island, Entire of itself. Each is a piece of the continent, A part of the main. If a clod be washed away by the sea, Europe is the less. As well as if a promontory were. As well as if a manner of thine own Or of thine friend's were. Each man's death diminishes me, For I am involved in mankind. Therefore, send not to know For whom the bell tolls, It tolls for thee.