Looking through the mist of time. We peer forward through the mist of time, whilst clinging to the memory of the debris that we call our past. Like sand slipping through the fingertips, our brief sojourn seems to swiftly fly, until all we have are fleeting shadows of the life that we have lived. Our friends and family seem to slip beneath the murky waters of our past, as one by one their journey ends. We carry on groping like blind men, knowing that the light however bright seems so far from our power to see. It's not the clock that measures time for us, for now, it moves so fast, that time seems stationary in the relentless march of the calendars speedy moving of the years. We cannot stop the rushing motion of the beckoning final call, the day that gathers up the fragments of the things that meant so much, but now hold so little value. John R J

Thank you for setting up this memorial to Mick. We hope that you find it a positive experience developing the site and that it becomes a place of comfort and inspiration for you to visit whenever you want or need to.

I am I and you are you, whatever we were to each other that we still are. Speak to me in the easy way which you always used. Why should I be out of mind because I am out of sight? Life means all that it ever meant, it is the same as it ever was.