Final Journey!

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I opened my eyes and stretched, it was a Saturday, not that one-day is much different from another when you’re retired, but I remembered it was a Saturday because I had a hair appointment. Maybe I’d go to the mall early and enjoy a little retail therapy. I sat up in bed and stretched again. It was a good morning, no aches and pains, no creaking bones.

I washed and donned my PJ’s. No crazy rush to get the washing done over the weekend, I was retired; I could feed the washer any day I chose. I padded down the stairs to Bob’s man cave. Even at seven o clock in the morning the television was on. Arsenal was playing, and for once it seems, they were winning! No Arsene Wenger at the helm these days.

“Bob, what do you want for Breakfast?”

No answer, he was engrossed in the game, didn’t even look up. Not unusual when he was engrossed in football.

“I’ll bring some toast and coffee down.”

I switched the coffee machine on and cut some bread. Yup, still made my own bread, neither of us liked the doughy mess the American supermarkets sold. I wasn’t hungry though so I took a tray down to the man cave and left it on the coffee table. You could at least say thank you, your team are winning for heavens sake!

I walked out onto the porch, it was a beautiful day. Sunny and warm. Bird’s song was the only sound I head. I love living out in the country. I inhaled the atmosphere. When I die, this is where I want my ashes scattering, I feel comfortable here.

No time to linger today, I have a hair appointment and shopping to do. Maybe some new sandals, we’re flying to Italy next month. Maybe I’ll have my ashes scattered on the Amalfi Coast? No, maybe not, its beautiful there, but I don’t speak Italian, I’d be lonely. Why am I thinking about where I want my ashes scattered?

I went back upstairs to the bedroom, ignoring the dishwasher that needed to be emptied. Not in the mood today, it’s a ME day and I’m going to enjoy it.

I was lost in thought, wondering what I should buy. Maybe a new sun dress too, can’t wait for the Italian sun to kiss my shoulders. I giggled as I remembered the last time we were in Italy, and getting my 65-year-old bum pinched!

I froze in the bedroom doorway. If I’d had any breath left in me I’d of gasped. There was someone lying on the bed, still as a church, it was me!

NO! NO! NO! How could this happen?

I ran downstairs to Bob; he was engrossed in the game. I tried to shake him, but he didn’t see me, didn’t feel me.

Bob! Bob! I think I’m dead!

It was useless. Slowly I went back upstairs and looked around our bedroom. It was full of memories, photos of my daughter, and paintings of Italy. I touched the cold face of the “me” that lay on the bed, hoping I’d wake up. I didn’t, so I sat next to me and waited.

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It was 10:30 when Bob went upstairs. Sheila normally rose around seven, but he hadn’t seen her yet. He worried she was sick.

“Hey, are you staying in bed all day? I thought you had a hair appointment.”

He saw his wife lying on the bed. She was pale and still.

            “I’m sorry Bob, you’ll have to get your own breakfast today.”

He didn’t hear of course. He wasn’t a romantic man, but he bent over his wife’s body and gave her one final kiss on her forehead. They’d been married over 50 years, he’d be lost without her.

 

Finally She Sleeps

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FINALLY SHE SLEEPS

If I were to be buried, I’d like those words on my headstone. Most nights sleep eludes me. I long to sleep for eight hours, but can’t remember when that last happened. My brain is wired to never shut down.

I don’t expect I’ll have a headstone because I want my ashes to be scattered somewhere beautiful, maybe on a hillside below Ravello, overlooking the Mediterranean? After all the memory of me should be in the hearts of those who love me and not imprisoned in one place. If anyone were to write anything to memorialize my death, let not them write, Finally She Sleeps.

January 17th – My Birthday – A comendy of errors!

You know I’ve never really liked my Birthday, even as a kid. I often wished I could cancel it, or forget about it. My mum did forget about it once. I think it was my seventh birthday. I was about to leave the house for school when I reminded her. “Oh I’m sorry pet” she said as she ran upstairs to get my present (which she hadn’t wrapped). It was a bicycle pump! My mum was raising me on her own so life was a constant struggle. My violent good for nothing dad was no longer part of our lives, for which I was relieved, but it was still tough to watch my school friends enjoy huge parties and receive lots of presents. Presents my mum couldn’t afford, and with no close family, there was no one else to spoil me.

Maybe that’s why I always showered my own daughter with gifts. Different times and circumstances I know, but I wanted to make up for what I never got. My mum did her best, I’m not criticizing her, I loved her, but growing up it was hard to understand.

My Birthday has been fated ever since. People close to me have died on my Birthday, I’ve attended funerals on my Birthday. Operation Desert Storm began on my Birthday (1991). I know, it’s all coincidence, but after many bad childhood memories it weighs heavily on me.

2015, and another Birthday is here. This one is a little different. No war has been declared so far, no one has died, but I am unemployed for the first time in years, which is stressful in itself. I was born in 1957, so add up the numbers, being unemployed at my age is a worry! I’m trying to keep a brave face and enjoy the day, but sometimes life just wears you down.

How am I going to spend the day? I think I’ll take a challenging walk and let the fresh Colorado air clear my head.

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Enjoy the Present – It is a Gift.

Over the last few weeks I have observed and endured a lot of sadness. I have watched friends suffer the loss of their loved ones. Friends of mine have passed away, passed away too young. I do believe in God, but it doesn’t make their passing any easier.

Life is very precious and no one knows when it will be taken away. Love your family, hold them close. Let them know how much you care. Enjoy every breath, every moment, every day and every year.

An Angel is watching over those no longer here. Let their memory stay with us.

 


Let us remember our firends who are no longer with us in body, but will always be with us in Spirit.