Thursday, March 04, 2010

Reasons

I am not necessarily a believer in precognition but sometimes you just know something is
going to happen and it does.


Shell made it through Christmas, just....she hung on, a tight rope walker who dropped the pole
and slipped to grip the rope through sweat slick fingers, slipping slipping...

We had never really expected her to make it that far, but she was determined to make sure Christmas was not going to be a black day in the lives of her kids forever more, she told Rick early in the piece, she will make it past Christmas, and she did.

Sky and I tried to see her, just before we headed down the beach, we dropped in, bracing ourselves because Shell had not been well in the days after Christmas, Rick told us she was deteriorating very quickly and suddenly.

The carers had come, taken one look, upped the morphine to max levels and told Rick it would be soon.

We stood on the patio Rick had built for her 2 years previously, her pride and joy, complete with chimney, laser light roof, exposed beams and posts, she loved to be out there watching the shades of the day change.

We could see Shell through the flywire screen, asleep in the motorized chair she had pretty much lived in for the past 6 months, mouth agape, as if trying to breath in life, she seemed peaceful, no, that's bullshit, she seemed drugged out of her brain if I am honest with myself, I want to think she was peaceful because its easier for me.

How can fighting to pull in each and every breath be peaceful?, Sky said she looked at peace as we left, and I let her have that thought, because she needed it.

We went away, a whole group of us, partied, played, swam and ate and drank and did all the things a gang of middle aged parents and their teenagers and various younger ones like to do, it was good, to let the hair down, to relax a bit.

When I got the call, I was sitting in a cafe with the crew deciding between a BLT sandwich and raisin bread, I knew as soon as the mobile rang who it was, and what he would say.

I stood and walked outside, because I really didn't want to let anyone see my expression, its strange how these things can be important, I also knew it would delay telling Sky, and I wanted to spare her as long as I could even if it was for only a few extra moments.

Rick's voice was an empty hallway, I could taste dust and echoes as he quietly explained Shell had passed.

Standing in the middle of Torquay's main drag, holiday makers everywhere, kids laughing, a bus load of tourists just pulling in from somewhere, I tried to offer condolences and express grief, I failed utterly, I couldn't focus, and I turned around and around, searching for better reception, as if somehow, hearing him more succinctly could help the situation in some way.

At that moment, Rick was dead as well, robotic as he went down the list of people to tell, ticking off names and telling the same short tale to each of us. I folded my phone closed and tried to get my bearings.


Sky came out of course, she has always been more receptive to such things than I, and she took one look at my face and wept. I held her as she cried, strangers went around us, creating a zone for us to be in, conversations faltering and stopping as they passed, to resume again a respectful distance beyond us.

The sun was warm on my back, the tears, wet on my T shirt.

And now I find myself bereft of words, an empty shell for Shell

3 comments:

burning moon said...

How sad to lose a dear friend

I'm so sorry

Chris Never said...

Thanks dear one

jj said...
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