In the Name Of My Father: Chapter 29
Death and survival — two ends of a spectrum,the choice being to move on and make the rest of one’s life count.
Ailsa braced herself for her meeting with her father, but she needn’t have worried. His eyes lit up when he saw her, and she threw herself into his arms and released her tears.
For a while no words were spoken, the two just locked in an embrace that spoke volumes. Eventually though, John broke the silence.
“I’m so sorry darling. I couldn’t see any other way out…I couldn’t bear to have to lean on you.”
“It’s alright Dad. It’s alright,” Ailsa replied as she folded her father in her arms. “I’m here now and I’ll always be here for you. You know that, don’t you? We should have talked, but we didn’t, and I left you all on your own, all the time hoping for a miracle. Isn’t that what most people do? We deny the bleeding obvious.”
“I don’t really know. I wouldn’t say that I’m the skilled at facing the truth and the likes, so why on earth should you be?”
“There’s always a way Dad…always. And even if we didn’t agree on the protocol, talking’s not a bad way of meeting half way.”
“I’m sorry. I guess I just got exhausted trying to find a solution. You’re too young to be saddled with me.”
“Who’s talking about dying? Which doctor told you that?”
“It’s what I’m expecting. We all have to die some time, but I suppose I took the wimp’s way out, you know, not too much suffering, sparing you the burden of caring for me…it just seemed like a sensible thing to do. I have no fear of dying, and I’m damned if I will be a burden on you. You have your life to lead.”
“Well just as well you don’t know too much about pill popping either, otherwise I’d be here to arrange your funeral. That wouldn’t have been fun. AND, I don’t have time for it! And might I remind you that you have a lot to keep you busy, going by the collection I had to deal with over the last couple of weeks. You can die happily when that’s all been sorted out, and not a minute before.”
“Then I have at least another hundred years under my belt,” he laughed as he ran his hand through her tangle of curls. “Have you seen your mother by any chance?” he asked.
“Only through the window…the medical staff wanted her to be left alone for the time being. She’s in an induced coma due to the head injuries…and she doesn’t look great.”
“I can’t comment on that. I haven’t seen her either, but now I am consumed with guilt. Here am I, and your mother pays the ultimate price for just trying to help.”
“It’s not the end of the road Dad. Good things can still happen. The induced coma will allow her to heal, if that’s in the plan. Now I suggest you just try to get some rest and I’ll call in later.” As his eyes slowly closed, she kissed him gently and left the room.
A few days later John was informed that his growth was not life-threatening, and that with surgery, he would be restored to good health.
“It’s what we call a benign tumor,” Alistair had advised him. “It grows in the membranes surrounding the brain and spinal cord, and it was the reason for your headaches. In a way you are lucky because it’s still relatively small, but the surgery itself is delicate and you will be looking forward to quite a few weeks of recovery, maybe six? How do you feel about that?”
“What I think right now is that I’m relieved, but surgery…well that’s something I try to avoid. I’m the sort of person who likes to be in control, and allowing somebody else to tamper with my body is a bit daunting, especially my brain. I know there are risks, but having some reassurance would go a long way,” he answered looking anxiously at Dr. Stafford.
“You’re right to have concerns. There are risks, of course there are, but they’re minimal and our surgeons are among the best in the world. When you think about it, life’s a bit of a lottery John, but we face the odds every day of things happening, and mostly we survive.”
“So if I do agree to the op, how soon would you suggest?”
“It’s slow-growing at this stage, but things can change in the blink of an eye. I’d go for sooner rather than later, because then you’d be rid of your headaches. But take the time you need and think things through. You have lots to consider and I’m sure you’ll want to talk to the family before making your decision.”
But already John had made his decision. It was comforting to think he could emerge as well as, if not better than he had been of late, and in his head were plans, plans that didn’t include cocooning himself in his apartment, and immersing himself in work.
His plans would include living, really living, but he had much thinking to do. Already he was speculating on new adventures, rekindling friendships, and who knows, maybe in some way, Helen might like to be part of that.
Life was good. It was much about seizing the moment.
And so, less than one week later, John’s surgery was declared a success. “Everything went to plan, no unusual discoveries, and believe me we had a good look around, and give or take your present discomfort, I am confident you will soon start to feel well. The head gear suits you by the way!”
“It’s impressive, if nothing else. I’m sure it will score some sympathy votes. I can’t tell you how great it is to have this over and done with. I suppose I should be happy that at my age, this is my first hospital experience. And I’m still alive to tell the tale. Thank you.”
But four days later, when John was deemed well enough, Ailsa steeled herself to break the news. Gently she informed him that Helen had passed away, the very day he was in theater.
The news stunned John and for a few minutes he didn’t speak. Eventually he raised his head, pain etched in his tired face.
“They warned me things weren’t looking good for her…maybe if I hadn’t been so caught up in my own problems I might have been able to woo her back to health,” he said sadly, wiping a few stray tears from his eyes. “Deciding to help you clear my apartment would have been a huge step for her. I never thought I’d see the day when she would see fit to forgive me…and now she’s gone, and we will never talk it through,” he sobbed.
“She didn’t suffer Dad, and her decision to help you was her way of making her peace with you. Keep that in mind”, Ailsa said, as she hugged her father tightly. “She never regained consciousness. After they took you to theater I popped in and see her. The nurses were fine with that and there was no hint that she was possibly close to death. They were happy for me to sit by her bedside, just chatting about everyday things. I regret to say, that even then, as per usual, it was a one-sided conversation, and yet it felt right. I prattled on as only I can do about work, and whatever.
“I gently stroked her hair and told her how nice it looked and reassured her that I didn’t really mind her having bequeathed her curls to me, that all the complaining I had done over the years was just that. Just as well that I’m good at all this banal prattle, especially when there’s no response.
“But after a few hours I began to sense that things were changing, and that she might be slipping away. Her breathing was shallow, sometimes barely audible, and so, I took her hand and gently stroked it, all the while feverishly chatting, reliving some of the fun parts of our lives and telling her how wonderful we all thought she was. I was hoping it would have a miraculous effect on her.
“A few times she squeezed my hand…just a little, but I felt it. I think she was trying to assure me that she was listening. I cried. And just for a second or so, I swear she opened her eyes, just that tired slit-eye look that told me she didn’t have the energy to support the movement.
“Do you remember how she used to sing that lullaby, Slumber Gently Goodnight?”
“I do. She said it was the one song that would send you and Craig to sleep.”
“She did, and so I started to sing to her. I thought it would allow her to go back to sleep and be at peace again.
Slumber gently, goodnight.
Stars give thee their light.
Carnation and rose,
Watch o’er thy repose.
When the sun lights the day,
God will wake thee again.
When the sun lights the day…
“and when I got to that bit, God will wake thee again, that’s when I realized she had slipped peacefully away, too peacefully, so I gently tucked her hair into place and sang through my tears, When the sun lights the day, you’ll be with God, and then,
“And then I had no bloody idea what I was going to do. I sobbed, as so many memories, masquerading as tears, poured freely down my cheeks. She hated my swearing as you know. I’m not sure I will ever be able to sing that again.”
“Oh you poor darling…I’m sorry you had to go through all that on your own. I should have been there.”
“It was better that way Dad. I KNOW that in some way, I made peace with Mom just before she left us. In the last few minutes of her being on this earth I was absolutely with her, no questions, no accusations, no fighting, and no teasing…just me and Mom, and two honest hearts beating as one. It was such a privilege, and more beautiful than I could ever have imagined.”
“You’re too young to be doing that on your own.”
“I’ve never experienced death. I used to think it would be abhorrent, something I would want to avoid, but it wasn’t. It was sacred…spiritual, and, would you believe, I had that moment of faith when I realized that death is the birthday of eternity for all of us. That’s what makes sense of living.
“And even though I was all alone, I sensed that it was what Mom wanted. It taught me so much about dying. I needed to talk to her God…so I took the time. I reminded him about how wonderful she was, that she was the best mom imaginable, and I told him that he had to look after her for us..none of this purgatory stuff. She should freely walk through his gates
“I took my time watching over her and marveling at how beautifully at-peace she looked, something I hadn’t seen in her in a long time.
“But I wasn’t ready to say goodbye. I wonder if anyone ever can be, and so it was some time before I alerted the staff. I just didn’t want them coming in and interfering, doing all the clinical stuff that they are mandated to do, writing down notes about when and how she died. Who cares about that?
“I didn’t want noise and activity and instruments flashing, because I couldn’t manage any of that when I could still sense the ripples of life in the room, wavelets that gradually faded away in parallel and in time with the diminishing warmth of Mom’s body. It’s the closest I have come to understanding how something feels to be sacrosanct.”
“I still wish I could have been there with you.”
“You know,” she answered after a while, “in some ways it was all meant to be. I really believe that. In those last few minutes of her life, I made the only sincere confession I will ever make, and though it may seem totally selfish to you, I now feel I can pick up the pieces and go on living.
“See, I have to tell you Dad. It’s confession time. I roughed her up a bit when I was home last, metaphorically speaking, you know! There are things I needed to know, and though I tried my level best to get her to speak to me about them, mum was the word.
“Oh we’d get close…teetering on the edge some would say, but then she would pull back and I would be left tearing my hair out, so I pinned her into the proverbial corner with my probing, and, to be honest you won’t like this, but sometimes I went too far.”
“Oh dear.”
“I tried the shock tactics, shocking her into telling me things by exaggerating my past…things like previous relationships and the likes. At one stage I was telling her about meeting this guy in a bar…true story. He was a bit of a dish and I was seriously attracted to him. We went out a few times and then he gave me the spiel about being locked in an unhappy marriage, so I quickly ditched him. Anyway, as I was relating this to Mom, on my mobile, I swear I heard her sob, just once, but it was as if she had a skeleton in her cupboard that was scratching to get out.
“Would you have any idea Dad? Or am I just making all this up in my head? Is there a missing piece of a puzzle that I need to know about? Or maybe she just wanted to tell me about you. Was there that much to forgive?” Ailsa asked.
“I’m not sure what you mean.”
“I was talking about your relationship. I can’t imagine you ever having unforgivable relationships, so that’s what I was alluding to. Was it so bad that the two of you couldn’t kiss and make up?”
“Not as bad as your mother thought,” John answered regretfully. “There’s no doubt I could have dealt better with what she THOUGHT had gone on. Relationships are so much easier to handle when you’ve allowed the dust to settle, but we didn’t do that. I wanted to. I really did, but sometimes, in the heat of the situation things are injected into the chaos, things that didn’t actually happen, and then before you know where you are, what was little more than suspicion, suddenly becomes gospel.”
“I had a feeling that might be the case…Mom, the stoker of dying embers. It’s a shame really. Tell me Dad, was she as beautiful as I imagine she was when you first met?”
“Well you grew up with her. You should know.”
“It sounds like a silly question I know, given that I have known her all my life. I’ve seen photos of her when she was really young, but as a child I didn’t think about whether she was pretty or not. She was just my mom.”
“And that’s how things should be. Love is all about accepting the whole package. Children are good at that. But in answer to your question, sure she was very pretty, but even more importantly she was stunning on the inside. As a human being she knew how to make other people feel good. She was the best possible version of herself.”
“Sounds like I had two perfect parents then. That’s how I see you too, Dad,” and before he had time to respond she added, “But, as I said, in recent times she and I had a few heart-to-heart talks.”
“About what?”
“About her attitude, about why she was unable to make a life for herself after you two broke up. No relationship is every a waste of time. Sure, breakups hurt. I’ve been through a few of them myself, but you can learn so much from them, even if it’s little more than what you don’t want, and how to avoid them. I’ve always wondered why she was so bound up in misery and…”
“And you wanted to get to the bottom of it!” he smiled. “Sounds just like you my darling girl.”
“I really should have been a forensic scientist, with a side serve of drama! I really had to use every bit of the creativity I could muster, plus lots of shock tactics, to get any reaction from her. To be honest, I have often wondered how you two got together in the first place.”
John lay back in his hospital bed, a wry smile spreading on his gaunt face.
“Let me tell you Ailsa, your mom was the most amazing human being on this planet, and yes, she was beautiful in an understated way. When she and I first got together I felt that I was the luckiest man alive. Every day was exciting. She taught me to see the sun, even on the cloudiest of days. She was my once-in-a-lifetime friend.
“I had already finished study, and making my way in the world, but Mom was still at university. We spent every second we could together, not doing anything in particular, sometimes just playing scrabble…we both loved to win…or reading, and at other times cooking almost-edible meals, and serving them up with terrible plonk in the tiny decrepit kitchen of our rental property. Our lives, we felt, were perfect, tied together with everyday simplicity, and we were so happy we felt that we could touch the stars without trying too hard. Have you ever felt like that?”
“I think not.”
“Then you haven’t.”
“How do you know?”
“Because if you had, he’d be sitting right here with you now!”
“Then you’re right. Love has eluded me to date,” she replied dramatically. “To be honest I don’t hold out much hope of finding it.”
“We all say that at one stage or other in our lives, but believe me there’s a match for you out there somewhere. Sometimes it feels like you’re looking for that needle in a haystack, but magically we DO find those needles. Love is all about discovering someone you feel you can’t live without, and though those matches are few and far between, they’re there alright.”
“In which case, I can hardly wait, but then tell me, if Mom was someone you couldn’t live without, why could you not repair the damage?”
“I…” John began, but was unable to continue. “Look do you mind Ailsa? When I feel a bit stronger we can talk, and I promise you we will cover all your concerns. There’s so much that you need to know, but I want the timing to be right. From a selfish perspective I’d prefer to be as fully-recovered as I can be. And I want to do it right for all of us, and in particular for both you and your mother.”
“Oh my goodness, will I be ready for this? Will I EVER be prepared? Tell me Dad. Is it a can of worms or a Pandora’s box?”
“It’s a bit of both,” he said, taking her hand gently in his.