A fellow “mature” philosophy student, Anna adored alliteration. Even, dare I say, found it sexy. Sorry I could only manage three words my dear.
Fiercely intelligent, a fellow philosophy graduate from my Uni and a person who would, I hope, have liked this reflection, recently had a full stop on breathing. Anna loved dogs, much like Hitler. She’d a sense of humour too and would appreciate me making that comparison. Anna was bloody funny.
Brave yet wayward, my pal was always passionate: boasting a son she couldn’t love more, but struggled with the realities of. He was an excellent kid last time I saw him, despite her motherly complaints.
Anna’s dog died recently. Her ex died recently. These things take their toll, and I know she loved them both deeply. Her dog was amazing, I never met her ex but her love was unconditional and everlasting. We tended to speak and meet between partners and/or mental health troubles. That was our bond and I now regret it wasn’t firmer. Posthumous is irretrievable regret.
We met through the Philosophy Society at a University we both loved, then hated after achieving our degrees due to their treatment of our brilliant lecturers. What a way to kill a brilliant Philosophy program those particular Catholic Cunts propagated.
“You’re thinking with your dick again”, one of Anna’s friends said to her in my presence, and it was a perfect metaphor for her as an empowered feminist. I’ll tread carefully here, but Anna always acted appropriately aggressively and never let things get in her way. She blunderbussed her way through all kinds of personal problems and emotional embargos with a smile. Charmingly.
I appreciate people who challenge me, often not in the moment, but Anna’s arguments always amused me, I was grateful for them. Never annoyed, even when at dinner she served me tinned curry when previously I’d made a fresh pasta sauce. Fuck food, Anna was always the reason I was there and I’m so sorry she’s gone.
Not really, mate, but I hope you are.