A Little Burn



All day, it rains.
Dog and I take the old path through the woods, past the troll tunnels and under the trees with spindly, moss heavy branches. They remind me of tarantula legs.
Attempts at waterproof don't work. I am drenched before half way. It is good to be here though, where the leaves of spring are lately unfurling, where the light reaches even under the thick pine. On the way back we visit the river. Dog swims after sticks. Bird acrobats flip over the water's surface.
At home, the kettle bubbles. Everything seems so ordinary. I get changed into dry work clothes and off I go and act as though everything is ordinary, everything is fine.
Rain falls heavier. I drive home slowly, over a slick of precipitation and bumps of tree shrapnel.

'After 24 hours,' my friend tells me, later this evening; weary from her hospital vigils, her voice echoed by poor reception: 'that's when they can register his death.' 

We sigh. 'If you feel relieved, don't feel guilty.'
'Remember when I met him?'
We smile. Trying to be so cool, she accidentally burnt his arm.
He fell in love. 




Comments

  1. Susan Flett Swiderski15 May 2013 at 03:56

    I'm sorry for your loss... and your friend's loss.

    ReplyDelete
  2. Geo.15 May 2013 at 05:50

    One wonders how things can seem so ordinary when something important has ended. My condolences.

    ReplyDelete
  3. Lisa Southard15 May 2013 at 09:07

    Thank you for these kind words- kindness goes a long way to making things bearable. xx

    ReplyDelete
  4. The Cranky15 May 2013 at 09:11

    I'm so sorry to read this Lisa; it seems incredible that ordinary life goes on and yet...life going on is what keeps us moving with it as well.

    My condolences to you and your friend.

    ReplyDelete
  5. Dixie@dcrelief15 May 2013 at 11:57

    I find it 'poetic' the way you write of the ordinary: you and dog on a day's walk in the rain.

    You'll be in my thoughts.

    ReplyDelete
  6. Suze19 May 2013 at 04:24

    Oh, my gosh, Lis. I'm so sorry and I send you an embrace.

    ReplyDelete

Post a comment

Thank you for reading my words- my chance to read yours here:

Popular posts from this blog

Windfalls

Image
Going With The Flow Isn't Always Bumpy

After work - no swimming. Just stopped by Porthpean to breathe the wild air, to drive home to a powercut, candlelit house where a glass of wine was waiting. 

The next day more storm winds blew, rolling apples down the lawn. Fruit boules? I was in the blackberry hedge, untangling thorny whips and gathering fruit. Dots of blood on fingers, nettle-stung buzz on my shins.  Ideas swirling about plotlines adding to the happiness. Pegged towels on the rotary line which may be a mistake but maybe (definitely, overcome with the exuberant purchase of our not yet delivered kayak) I lied when I said I wouldn’t replace it. I should re-use it, obviously; grow sweet peas on it, perhaps. Sweet peas, and ivy for the evergreen. Meanwhile the line has stretched like cheap elastic and I’m hoping the towels don’t land in the gooseberry prickles. Later I am sat writing, and hiding from the mess downstairs which will turn out fine because there’s a plumber fi…
Read more

Three Letters To Grace

Image
Words On Love, Loss, And Grieving



21/5/2020 Dear Grace,
I have said how your legacy is the small kind things; I have been noticing them more and more. It’s almost ridiculous, in a wonderful way, to be so taken by the pattern on a plate or how clever elastic is. I can’t stop making beautiful meals. Yesterday I woke up with the bravado to debone a turkey leg. It took awhile; regret was made fleeting by success. I feel like you know. That your light and care are here in everything and that’s why I am continually tuning in. The energy to transform everything is part of this, to celebrate our ordinary splendour. This has manifested into some minor furniture renovations and uncovered a leaking pipe under the bath. (I think we can fix it, I’ve put a cloth down for now to soak it up, left it open to dry out the floor and the rotted skirting board. The bath panel is outside meanwhile… should I paint it? Probably not…)
This is the best of grief; the deep and peaceful loss, the fine example, your …
Read more

Corona Creep Up

Image
Words From The Start Of Lockdown Life


Saturday March 14th 2020
On the drive to work I got bored of changing the windscreen wiper settings, then a little off-white spider raced around on the steering wheel. I blew it onto the dashboard but it jumped back. Cheeky spider. At work we are bored of coronavirus restrictions and bored at the prospect of it continuing. We don’t know anyone who has it. Supermarket shelves are missing toilet roll, dried pasta, as previously, now also tins of beans and tomatoes. There are travel bans and cancelled events. Last night I had to teach a non contact TKD session - no pads, no sparring, no hand shaking. I began my class with ‘first of all, please don’t breathe because that’s dangerous now.’ All of us are ‘meh’ about these restrictions. We understand that infection control is serious for the immune-compromised, we adhere to protocol for that reason. But the paranoia and boredom: meh. Monday March 16 2020 Yesterday Mr and I did some babysitting for Grandch…
Read more