I’m writing a Memoir to my son….this is an excerpt…
It was a Friday,
just one week after my son’s passing,
and we were unable to find
the Master of the High Court,
the purveyor of closure.
Ghastly paperwork was needed.
the nightmare we were living..
I found myself standing outside a trendy Coffee Shop,
somewhere in the City,
in the blazing hot sun,
afraid of a future without my youngest son,
trying to fathom out where I was
and how I got there.
Right in front of me,
sitting at the alfresco Coffee Bar
were about a dozen young guys,
drinking coffee and laughing,
living life the way it is supposed to be lived…
and this was me, a broken-hearted Mother,
whose son had just died,
spinning out of control,
hardly able to keep it together,
sobbing in the street,
tears gushing forth unashamedly,
my grief too severe to care who was watching!
In that moment
all I wanted was to shout out,
“I just lost my son, and there you are, carrying on like nothing happened,
shouldn’t the World have stopped moving,
fallen off its axis,
or at the very least been a little gentler with me today?”
What would they have thought,
would they have taken a moment
Or was this just another day in the City,
a desperate woman
ranting in the hot sun,
being hooted at by passing traffic!
A City where suffering lurks on every corner,
sometimes wrapped up in a bottle of booze.
The Staff at the Coffee Shop asked my eldest son what was wrong,
and he told them about his brother.
I saw their eyes fill with intense pity
and it washed over me like a channeled kind of healing.
It was a knowing,
that somehow they understood.
There were no words,
just a silent gesture
a wave to sit down
and drink my coffee,
all would be okay…