Reactions

The other day someone asked me if I felt relieved that Mother had died. It’s a fair question and I discussed it with Aunt last night. In the long run, I am sure we will feel some sense of relief. The knowledge that Mother is not going to decline further, is not going to descend to a state of unknowingness where we cannot connect with her, is not ever going back to hospital, that she died peacefully, yes these things will be a relief. But at the moment neither of us is feeling that.
Aunt describes it as a big dark space. I am still wrapped in grey fog much of the time. While Mother lived, I knew where she was, had a picture in my mind of her at the home when I wasn’t with her. Now, she isn’t. I can imagine her ashes in the drum that matches her coffin, residing with the undertaker until such time as we can arrange for Dad’s ashes to be exhumed so that we can scatter them together, but where is Mother? Maybe that’s why the video continues to play in my head while I try to locate her.

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A River of Stones Day 6 Relief

Arriving home, I slowed my pedalling and held my breath. I listened; birdsong, traffic on the main road. No tinkling bells.
I pushed my bike into its place on the rack and fumbled with the first padlock. My hands were shaking.
Then I heard it; a distinct declamatory yowl.
I called, and my cat, missing since breakfast, ran towards me.

Replay: Boating Grows Up

Originally posted on MyT
MARCH 14TH, 2009 21:59
Boating grows up

Last week’s journey East was unplanned.
My mother was ill and in hospital. Everyone said she needed surgery but they weren’t sure she was fit for a general anaesthetic. No one was able to say what an alternative solution might be. Medical staff said she would be made comfortable, but under questioning, comfortable seemed more of an aspiration than a plan. So I scooped up the Cat and made for das Boot. It was great to have it there, my floating home from home, a familiar, welcoming refuge.