Where once there was the sound of the tv in the evenings, and the whine of a boy when his programme wasn't on, and the anguish of a man missing the sports news because “Blinky Bill” was on, there's now an underlying silence. And the sound of a make-believe game being played on the living room floor with plastic men.
My best friend's father died a couple of days ago. I just found out tonight, my Mum called as she'd seen the death notice in tonight's newspaper. I rang him, and he's ok I guess. We're going out for a drink tomorrow night.
It must be one of the signs of morality, one of your parents dying. I haven't thought a lot about death. I don't want to be scared of it though — it's a part of what life is. I'd like to think I'll be ready for it when it comes. Or maybe ‘ready’ is the wrong word. Who could be ready? Maybe ‘accepting’ is the word I'm looking for?
I wonder if you know when you're dying? My friend said his father had said he wasn't feeling well. He laid down on the bed, had a heart attack and died. I wonder if he knew? It's hard for me to imagine life without my parents. They've always been there. Debbie's had to deal with both her parents dying within the past 5 years. There'll be times when I turn to look at her and there'll be tears streaming down her face. “I want my Momma” she'll say, “I want my Momma”.
Tonight, just now, I went into the bedroom to check on her and Matthew. They'd just gone to bed. Debbie reached out her arms in the dark and I lay down beside her. I asked what was wrong. “Sometimes I just want you” she said as I pulled close. Matthew hugged her from behind.
It's my last day at my job tomorrow. This past week has dragged on. I haven't really wanted to be there, I've been itching to finish. Itching to start on my own again. Things are going to work out. Things are going to go well. Things are going to fall into place.
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For the Americans among you!
Journals and blogs that I read regularly
Raising Hell
Feral Living
Hippycritical
Udder
My Life in 12 Point Font
Journal of a Writing Man
Some Jingle Jangle Morning
The Last Girl Scout
Potatoe.com
Journallife.com
Window to my Soul
Chickybabe
Sorabji.com
Yesterday's Makeup
Fifteen Milliliters
Fly Away
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Photo of tunnel copyright Bernd Klumpp, available from istockphoto.com