I remember the day very clearly as if it were only yesterday. June 2010. It was a hot summer’s day. My mother was in hospital, with her life about to end. It was expected, but that doesn’t stop the grief.
I went to watch cricket, somewhere locally. I had my phone on constant watch, waiting for news. I tried to shut out the inevitable, but without success. Then, sometime around 7 or 8 in the evening, my sister rang me to inform me that Mum was no more. Dazed, I got in the car and drove to the local hospital.
I made my way to the private room. I took one look at my mother, and left the room immediately. I couldn’t look any more. Her life was at an end. I wept, as anyone would do. Her pain and suffering was at an end. My pain and suffering was continuing, unabated.
I spoke to both my sister and brother-in-law, then I left to go home. I then phoned the relatives to let them know. It didn’t sink in, despite the grief. I know that sounds weird, but it took a while for the enormity of events to sink in properly. Everything else seemed to be crashing in on me, at a tremendous velocity. This only added to it.
Time is a great healer. I still miss my parents, of course, but at times like the present, my brain has tried to shut things out. There are times when my thoughts turn to why they went so quickly, why is cancer a horrible disease that claims so many, why, why? They won’t come back, but some days when I wake up, alone, looking at the four walls, I wonder how I reached this point in time.
But the world still turns, still spins on it’s axis. Life moves on, and this year is turning out to be pretty good, thus far. But events such as seven years ago still remind me of those dark times, stuck down that deep abyss. I’m sure as this week progresses, I’ll be busy so that I don’t think about seven years ago. Doing well to shut it out, but it isn’t easy at times.
Allen Brooks xx