Newly bereaved grief Sounds of crying from the room*, poor Sarahs sunk in the deepest gloom; Should I go through to see whats wrong, provide an ear for her song? Before I stir aching bones, finish my talk with Ken on the phone, Sounds of Sarah getting up; she comes to me Sarah, whats up? Toms dead! Oh, dear; oh, deary-me; hes gone and left me, cant you see? Its all my fault! I went out - I wasnt here to sort him out My Tom has died, what can I do? Hes left me here, alone with you! Now Sarah, love, sit down with me; Ill explain a thing or three: Its nineteen years since Tom passed on: and you were here, I kid you none She weeps and cries, wrings her hands (shes deaf, you see, cant understand Wont look at me to read my words ... those things I say remain unheard) She weeps and wails her new-found grief: dementia, her memorys thief. Our May** will never forgive me! Poor Tom died while I was out, see? I went out to Middleton*** and my Tom died while I was gone! ~~~~~ Sarah, love, please do look at me, watch my lips, my words you must see When did you go to Middleton? Just how long has Tom been gone? I went today: this afternoon (she sheds more tears of abject gloom) When I came back, our Tom had died! May wont forgive me! She cried. Look at Toms Death Certificate, look at it well and read the date - December, nineteen eighty-four Next: calendar by the door. No! I am NOT lying to you! Heres the newspaper, check this too My Toms not gone, I dont recall a funeral - not at all! I wasnt here, Ive let him down. Ill never live this disgrace down! Ill never leave this house again, through fog, snow, sunshine nor rain ... I wont go back to that place**** see; even if they come to fetch me! Now Sarah, love, its nineteen years since your Tom died: wipe your tears, You were right here, holding his hand SHUT UP!!! You just dont understand ... My husbands DEAD! What shall I do? I cant get any sense from you! ~~~~~ A long hour later, quiet reigns (now I can rest my aching brain) Shes much harder to distract, turn her mind to another track. Sitting in her chair again, with newspapers (oh, my aching brain!) Some time later, here she comes, back on track, looking glum Ill have no money now Toms dead, Ive got no money, now she said Once again I try to soothe her furrowed brow while things I prove. I show her bank statements and dates with cup of tea and slice of cake, Sit her down with photographs, slide out of door midst smiles and laughs ... Half an hour later, cries I hear: Oh, Tom, Oh Tom, my very dear Come back please! I promise true, Ill no more leave, Ill stay with you! With sandwich and a cup of tea, dish of trifle, switched-on TV, Her mind, once more, is quiet now. Im cracking up: I am, I vow, Six hours (nay, more) shes clung to this: and now she wants a blooming kiss! Undertaker, her next need (nine p.m. she must do this deed!) ~~~~~ She wants the key; Ive locked the door: a MONSTER, me, of that shes sure! I tell her Kenneths on his way: she accepts this (short?) delay. I make her sit with Horlicks cup; this time, though, theres no let-up. Her tears come thick and fast as she cries her grief (oh, deary-me) Kens on the phone: Hows Mother now? Just as bad as ever I vow Should I come? No, of course not: your shift starts tomorrow, you clot! With good luck, shell sleep it away and you will have a quiet day! By ten oclock shes tucked in bed (me too, easing pounding head) Midnight comes, with rattling door; she wants the Undertaker once more. At four I wake up with a shock: shes up and dressed in her best frock (Its inside out, with bra on top; no stockings on, just old bedsocks) She wants the key to unlock door: shes off to that place, so sure The driver will be here quite soon (no teeth in, face creased like a prune) Happy visiting that place: in her best dress the World shell face!
Posted on: Sun, 20 Oct 2013 09:39:43 +0000
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