Ten months

Recently I upgraded the memory in my laptop. I thought about it and realized I'd gotten the computer a new brain.

Then I thought about how Paul often said, when he was alive, that he wanted a new brain.

I didn't think of upgrading him before. Wish I'd thought of that. Wish it could have worked.

I would have powered him down and turned him over, and removed his battery by turning a coin in the slot.

Then I would have taken out each of the screws in his memory door and removed the bad chip, and installed the two brand new chips, maxing out his capacity with new clean memory. Then I'd screw the door carefully back on and the battery would go back in and I'd power him up again, and there he'd be, feeling so much better.

Wish I'd thought of that. But now it's too late.

My list of unanswerable questions is way too long to post but here are a few that come to mind:

• Was Paul there in spirit form, watching me, when I found his body?
  
• If so, what was that like for him?
  
• Did I do and say and feel what he expected me to do and say and feel at that moment?
  
• Did he plan to follow in his father's poltergeisting footsteps?
  
• Or did he decide to break Xmas tree ornaments and knock over vendor tables after crossing over?
  

Rachel told me that there is a Mexican saying about death, that each person actually dies three times. The first is when the body ceases to breathe. The second time is when the body is put in the ground. The third, and most profound and permanent, is when the living no longer remember the deceased's name.

With my blog I'm hoping to put off that third part for a while.