It Goes On.

May 6, 2015 8:07pm Published by Jules Smith in Whimsy On A Wednesday 36 Comments


Here’s what I’ve been up to because I know you’re dying to know.

1: I have taken to eating pot noodles except they aren’t proper pot noodles but a posh version called Kabuto. It has essence of Japanese health about it even though it’s still dried up pot noodle. Anyway, I noticed it had a funny little quote on it that said,

“ Make sure your tongue is as sharp as a sword but your heart is as soft as a noodle.”

Do you know, that’s the first quote I’ve read that I think I’ve actually achieved.

2: I completed my A-Z and found the meaning of life. I don’t know if I’m pleased with the outcome or slightly disappointed. I feel like there’s still something burning within me that is more and it’s not the peppers from my Kabuto pot noodle.

3: I am a mixed bag of things at the moment. I’m in a fog of senselessness and at the same time hampered by so many things to sort out it’s ridiculous.

4: I have a new found hatred for government paperwork in respect to my Fathers estate and they expect me to vote tomorrow.

5: It was my Dad’s funeral yesterday. It took so long to get a date because I had to wait for him to be released from the coroner. Then, there was a backlog because the flu jab was the wrong strain and lots of elderly people died. What kind of a mess is that? Then there was Easter and then there was a bank holiday. I went to see him in his coffin because I had to. That was a mistake. Too long. It wasn’t him. But, I still had to do it. I wrote a Eulogy for him and stood up and read it out loud with a microphone and everything. Trust me, I practised reading it out a lot so I could desensitise myself from it a little. It made people laugh out loud and I got a round of applause. A round of applause at a funeral…it’s like a black comedy. Even the minister said she was humbled by my reading and she’s been doing it for donkeys. But I did it for him and that’s all that matters.

6: On a more cheery note, I’m contemplating joining a suicide club ( you know, a group bereavement thing) Obviously it’s not called that but I call it that because at the end of the day that’s what it is. I haven’t done it yet because I know I’m probably not going to like it but maybe it will help me. It’s a night out.

7: I’ve made my first A-Z into a novel. You know, that one about the kid with Aspergers and the mysterious voice in the ether and Colin and being drugged on Brownies? It’s got a title and a cover and pages and everything. Anyway, all I need to do is sell a million copies so if you wouldn’t mind buying it when it comes out soon, since you’re the only people I write for, that would be a proper nice thing to do which would bring you happiness by giving to others (being me) which is in essence the meaning of life, then I’d be proper chuffed. I’d be even more delighted if I could read it myself on a beach in Bora Bora if you’re needing a benchmark.

8: The Frank Sinatra CD is stuck in my car CD player and I’m getting a bit tired of the Summer Wind as I’m wanting to listen to Sam Smith now. And in trying to mend it by pressing all the buttons with force, I have lost all my favourite radio stations. I’ve resorted to singing out loud with the window open.

and life goes on….:)


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Well you never cease to amaze me, I think I have found your next book jules’ Diary from then to now, and it should have pages and everything!!! I have the perfect place for you to write it… Begins with summer and ends with house.. Perfecto xx

A diary with pages and everything. I’m loving the concept. I can’t wait to see that summer that ends in house. Can I move into it?

It’s got your name above the door x

Press eject then half push a new cd in. I find that gets my cd out of the car when it gets stuck.

Thank you Matt! I shall try that this morning and let you know at lunch if it has done the trick. 🙂

Live goes on, poetry and art philosophy are still to be written, my lady.

Indeed, my kind and gallant Sir 🙂

Summer is coming. With it, I’m sure that we are bound to hear more of your adventures…no subtly in my hint. We all live through you.

Sorry for my tardy reply. Promise a summer of fun 🙂

Really enjoyed reading this Juliette – your words are all straight from the Heart and so very true. Yes…… Life does go on ……… XX

Thank you Dawn 🙂 My heart is a long sleeve because I hate sleeveless things. It does, it does and you have to keep riding. xxxx

You’re the best my friend … Keep going, stay strong & I can’t wait to read your book x

Well, you can read it on a beach somewhere fabulous with a nice cocktail! Love ya xx

mah dahlin i’m listening to Chopin’s Winter Wind. with your summer wind and my winter wind, if we combine forces, we can defeat Ultron!!! *)

Don’t you just marvel at our subconscious, collective wisdom? Me too. *)

There’s an American lady called Robyn Engels whose comments you might have noticed on my blog, Jules. Both her brother and ex-husband died by suicide, and she has written a newspaper article about coping with this particular tragedy. Here is a post she wrote about it:

You can find her email address in her blogger profile if you’d like to get in touch:

I wish I could have head your eulogy, which would have no doubt put Mark Antony to shame!

Thank you for that, Mr. Gorilla Bananas. I will go and read this at once.

Mark Antony would have fallen at my sword. 🙂

Actually, I HAVE been dying to know. Don’t be so flip.

No chance of posting the Eulogy, I suppose?

But…flippant is my go to 😉

Yeah – here it is – it won’t mean much to you having not known him but will give you an insight:

There are no suitable words, no words of comfort or anything that can be said to make sense of the tragic way my Dad left this world. Sadly there will always be unanswered questions, if only’s and maybe’s and all we are left with is a matter of painful acceptance. However, what I want to do today is honour my Father, as he would want, and to remember the gifts he gave to us.

E = MC2 – force = mass times acceleration. That was the first thing my Dad taught me, aged 3, so I could impress visitors. Once I’d hit the appropriate academic level, the next thing thing my Dad taught me was to be adventurous. He had so many interests and hobbies when I was growing up which in turn, meant that I did too as I was always dragged along to them. I spent weekends sailing at Beeston Marina on the River Trent, I had wet mornings in empty, boggy fields where battles had once been fought and I have climbed every mountain in the UK. I am the only child who has reached the pinnacle of Ben Nevis in black patent sandals and I also had to be rescued from Kinder Scout when he buggered off because I wasn’t walking fast enough!

With him having a keen interest in history I have learnt all about churches, stately homes and castles. He always taught me to “look up” at buildings and pay attention to architecture and told me that you should always live in a city that has a river and a cathedral. As I got older, I was introduced to the nuances of social etiquette, Derek style. As we walked around town he taught me how to score babes out of ten until I became a master at spotting pretty girls. I’d meet him in nightclubs with my friends where he’d whisper to me, “Don’t call me Dad, call me Dave!” which remained a personal joke of ours ever since.

I went to live with my Dad for a while in my late teens and we used to have so much fun getting ready to go out. We’d open up the sun bed and turn it on for strobe lighting, blast the tunes out of the stereo and start dancing round the house. His friends would turn up and ask, “What on earth are you doing?” to which we’d reply, “Duh…having a disco!”

His sense of fun, biting wit and repartee were second to none; he was the King of comebacks. He had great taste and style and you knew if he was in your party you were going to have a good time. He also made the best Spag Bol this side of Bologna.

But underneath all of his charm and spirit lived a very sensitive and caring man who wasn’t just a Dad to me but a really good friend. A person who always took time to pay attention and interest into what you and others were doing in life. And of all the funny quips and quotes he came out with, of which there are many, I have a favourite that I’d like to pass on to you that I will be taking forward as my mantra:

“ Jules, If it doesn’t make you laugh, don’t do it.”

I would have absolutely have loved to meet ur father in person.

“Live in a city with a river and a cathedral.” What a wonderful thing.

I backslide this weekend. For five days I have been somewhat of a mess. I saw a pic of Robert and though he was a man he looked like a young boy. I drove through the old neighborhood and got out and looked at his home. They gutting it and redoing it. A neighbor whom used to give him a hard time walked across the grass and was saying “This was such a terrible terrible thing to have happened.” No more nasty words from the neighbor. I just shook my head and walked away.

I’m having a little difficulty with a fairly new friend. He just doesn’t seem to be able to express emotions. And that is not what I’m needing from him right now.

So many “broken” people. I cried myself to sleep the other night. Three hours. I took three Bendryl. Went through my head the last conversation I had with Robert. A part of it I had tried to suppress but nothing is really ever surppressed. Then I played out in my head what must have happened that night. Looking in the mirror, shooting himself in the head, laying on the bathroom floor, being taken to the morgue, autopsied, then burned (cremated). It’s a lot to deal with.

I watched a “suicide” documentary because I need to understand my feelings and how I am suppose to adjust to these crazy mood. Happy one minute. Sad the next. And something they said hit me in the documentary. “The survivors (family and friends) of the suicide are left with the skeleton in their closet.” And I’m like that is how I feel. I have Robert’s skeleton in my closet. The sad thing is it will always be there and I won’t ever forget. Yes. I will laugh again. And cry again. But I’ll always have his skeleton haunting me.

Been thinking of u lately. I just have been a wee bit out of it these last four to seven days.

Luv, “the” ProfessorPup and StormyDawn

Stormy D, I think it’s normal to be up and down and all round the houses after the suicide of someone dear to you. It’s bad enough when someone dies cos they’re old and ready to finish up so this is even worse because it’s a shock and leaves you with a myriad of emotions and unanswered questions. It’s a lack of control and not being able to have been there to stop it and also feeling you weren’t loved enough if they had to. But, it is a choice they made and there’s nothing that can be done about it but try and get your head straight before you go mental and figure out a way to come to accept it. All in time; the scar will heal but it will always be. Thing is, its OK to be upset and bonkers and lost because you loved and it mattered. Take it easy on yourself. X

Thank you so much for posting the eulogy here…sharing something that personal is very brave. It was beautiful. Your father sounded like a lovely man…and you dear Jules, are a lovely woman. x

And so are YOU 🙂

that is a heartfelt eulogy, Jules. thanks for sharing. it’s really nice to know a little bit about the life of your dad and yours together.

congratulations on your book 🙂 life goes on. xx

Thank you, Jaya. Please make me some cookies….x

You know wouldn’t mind buying it when it comes out. Soon? How soon? I need to get us a bottle of whateveryouwant. They must sell that stuff somewhere.

Awww…you’re the bestestest everest.

I’d love a bottle of whateveriwant. It’s my favourite.

Jules, dear, it’s my birthday and I need to celebrate it with you. Just don’t smack me for pulling a little trick on you and Gloria haha I just couldn’t resist. I wonder if she’ll notice…

HERE of course.

Happy Birthday! Hope it was wonderful like you deserve.

OK then, let’s go celebrate…to your party I go….

“I wrote a Eulogy for him and stood up and read it out loud with a microphone and everything.”

“It made people laugh out loud and I got a round of applause. A round of applause at a funeral…it’s like a black comedy.”

“But I did it for him and that’s all that matters.”


To prepare something like this and read it at a funeral service is quite an experience. More people should do it.

I’ve done this for several friends now… and part of who I am is to make people laugh… so, like you said… applause/laughter at a funeral service? Sure… I think that is a sign that we have remembered that person lived… and not acknowledging that he had died.

Your last comment is the greatest… that you did it for him… *huggles*

I need to write for you about the time I almost went the suicide route…

Much love and admiration from me to you…



Yes Shoes, I agree that more people should do it as it makes it more heartfelt and personal. I’m glad I did.

Yes- please do. I’m very interested to hear this story.

And a whole lot of admiration and huggles back my lovely x

Eh one, two, three…

It’s, oh, so quiet
Shhhh Shhhh
It’s, oh, so still
Shhhh Shhhh


See what you did? You made me laugh. On a day when I don’t want to laugh. Such a lovely title there my Blue 🙂

Thank you. I mean that from the depths of my bottomless heart.

Promise I’m coming back now. Promise. x

Whenever it feels right, Jules. No need to rush, dear.

Jules, I’m so, so sorry for your loss.

I remember your A to Z story–will DEFINITELY pick that sucker up!

❤ ❤ ❤

Thank you, Mina. Good to see you back 🙂

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