Untitled (for Katharine)

Written for a dear relative of mine who was taken tragically too soon. I still miss her xo

In one month, she would die. 

This realization came as quietly and as swiftly as Death itself. No one knows the moment that it will happen, but she knew. She had seen it and there was no way to stop it. She could have done so much in response. She could have shouted and ranted against the God she believed in, cursed the Fates for where her life had lead her and implored the Universe day and night for a miracle to be saved. 

She could have pitied herself outright; she could have spent every day pushing her sobs deep down, only releasing them at night as she pressed her face into her pillow, willing her husband not to wake. She could have done all of that and no one would have blamed her.

Instead, she asked her husband out on a date, just like she had all those years ago. She did puzzles with her youngest, gardened with her middle and went on long walks with her eldest. They had all grown into strong, independent people of which she was proud. She hugged them all and said everyday that she loved them, and she laughed when their response was an eye roll and mumbled reciprocation. She wanted this to be as normal as possible for them, not a time of fear and dread. 

She contacted all of the people that she was at odds with for so long and apologized for any and all of her wrong doing, even though a piece of herself still believed she was in the right. She called all of her siblings and recounted all of the wonderful and wonder-filled memories of their childhood. She visited her parent's graves and said that she would see them soon. 

She would go and sit on a park bench to feed the ducks. Her husband would sometimes come along and sit beside her, quietly observing all around him with a small, simple smile on his face. On these days, she would smile at her husband smiling at the world, and was reminded how she believed all those years ago in the church that '... till death do us part' meant when they were two old gnarled people with so many decades of adventure, family, folly and Love behind them. As so many of us do in our naïve youth, she believed that Death would only call when her hair had whitened, her memory had dulled, her old bones ached and creaked, and her face showed every line of life, worry, and laughter that she ever had. It would only come to her when she was ready, like an old, patient friend. She never imagined that it would arrive abruptly and unwanted, like a thief in the night. As such, this made her hold her husband’s hand a little bit tighter. 

She prayed. 

She played with the dog, snuggled the cat. 

She quietly enjoyed the sunrise while she drank a cup of coffee. 

She baked good food that was made from recipes handed down to her by her grandmother. 

She sat in her garden and listened to the sounds of Nature around her. 

She laughed as often as she could. 

She thought good thoughts and revelled in gratitude. 

She put as much good in her life as she could. 

She did everything that the songs and poems tell us to do: everyday that she was alive, she lived. 

The day came. She said goodbye to everyone and everything in her own way. She was calm and composed; she did all that she could, and she knew that everything else would be taken care of after she was gone. As she laid her head down for the last time, many thoughts crossed her mind: she was loved and did love. She had faith, and she did the best that she could. She had been curious about the world and sought knowledge and understanding. She had believed tears of sadness were just as much a blessing as tears of laughter. She had known when to fight and when to give over. She had always lived with the intention of being patient, kind and altruistic, and she forgave herself when she fell short. Or perhaps she hadn't? Perhaps, she was misremembering things, romanticising them in her last moments so that she might die in gratitude, not in regret or fear. But even in the flood of this thought, she immediately forgave it and let it go. Because, now was literally all said and done. She had lived her life as the best person she believed she could be, and she closed her eyes in the hope that it was enough. 

Her very last thought however was the single most important truth of her whole life. It was simple and small, but powerful. This Truth went through her soul, shutting all the windows and locking all of the doors. It checked all the rooms of her long yet brief life, looking at every picture and trinket that she had collected, admiring and blessing it all as it quietly left again, shutting out the lights and closing the door softly as if leaving a sleeping child's room. She was waiting for the Truth as she stood at the door of this life. They regarded each other and she knew that the Truth wished to be spoken. As she drew her last breath and stepped into her next life, Truth spoke through her, quietly and clearly:

 '.... but I'm not ready to go...'

Reviews

[emmajoygreen]

Beautiful, intriguing, emotional and more. Your finely laid words have shown Katherine as a truly visual human being who turned a biography into a human being with an enormous heart.

'.... but I'm not ready to go...' : says far, far more than a screed ever could..

[Chrissie Muldoon]

Thank you so much for these lovely words, Emma. I really do take this kind review not as a compliment of my own writing, but as a way for others to know Katharine, and perhaps to have their own cathartic experience. Thanks very much xo

[Coyote Poetry]

Yes dear Chrissie. Our last thoughts.
".... but I'm not ready to go...'"
In my lifetime. I sat with many and I remember them seeking forgiveness or last words kind to another. I did enjoy the story. Gave character life and thoughts. Thank you for sharing the outstanding story. I did enjoy.
Coyote

[Chrissie Muldoon]

As eever, Coyote, I appreciate your kind thoughts on my writing. It sounds like you had a cathartic experience reading this, and since it was certainly a theraputic experience for me in writing it, I am so happy that it was important to someone else. Thank you very much :)

[Tom]

Poighnant, powerful, profound prose, such a courageous lady taken way before her time yet she bore no malice nor sought to blame or feel shortchanged, instead she embraced what life she had left and filled it with love and appreciation, yep indeed, a stoic woman who finally found and became aquainted with truth, only special people ever know such solace!!

[Chrissie Muldoon]

Thanks very much, Tom. Katharine really was this sort of person (her dad was Irish, so I think she had a lot of that Irish no-nonsense about her), and when she was diagnosed with her tumor (that's what she died from), she took as many trips and saw as many people as she could. She was brilliant :)

[emmajoygreen]

Truth now.. because it hurt too much to mention: this reminds me of my/our little mum and our daddy/dad. They kissed every night before they kissed their family good night as we grew up - and I have a feeling that they would feel the same as your dear character. Little mum lived for some years after her Fred died. She still smiled when any one of us mentioned his name.

[Chrissie Muldoon]

Thank you so much for sharing this, Emma. It seems so personal to you, and I know that putting such things out into the world is a very vulnerable thing indeed. Thank you for trusting me with it

[emmajoygreen]

Of course I trust you and for me, that can be rare!
Never know when is right to share, many can jabber on and share details just to feel important.
Comes a time however, when others say nothing they realise that when being told about something or someone, it could be his or her turn to be 'betrayed next. So sad. :)

[Chris]

This "touched" in its familiarity and the echoes behind my eyes. The one thing with "age" is the more people you have a chance to miss along your ways and the fewer to miss or remember you.

[Chrissie Muldoon]

Thank you so much for reading my work, Chris, and I'm so happy that it affected you in such a way. This really was lovely for me to read.

[Ayvid N]

A very powerful story that left a deep impression. It reminded me of the biblical lines, "I have fought the good fight, I have finished the race, I have kept the faith." You've written this story beautifully and convincingly. The dear woman, who must die before her time and yet chooses not to complain but to be thankful for all her blessings, each day. This hit me. Do we remember how temporary life is and that we can go anytime? And if so, do we cherish what we have? She did and her reward was an ocean of peace and bliss, in death.
The concluding scene is written wonderfully, when Truth comes to switch off the lights, shut the door and escort her away. It gripped me no end.
A great tribute to Katharine.
Wonderfully written Chrissie!

[Chrissie Muldoon]

I SO appreciate this review, Divya! I wrote it from a place of mourning, and to hear someone (who didn't know her) say that it's a wonderful tribute really is such a blessing. I'm so appreciative of your review and kind words, and I'm happy that it left an impression

[Ayvid N]

Its a very motivating write. You're most welcome Chrissie.

[emmajoygreen]

Re-read just now and am doing what I did before: cry.

'She would go and sit on a park bench to feed the ducks. Her husband would sometimes
come along and sit beside her, quietly observing all around him with a small, simple
smile on his face. On these days, she was reminded of her youth and how she had
pictured them feeding the ducks at the ends of their lives, two old gnarled people with so many decades of adventure, family, folly and Love behind them. As so many of us do
in our naïve youth, she believed that Death would be patient and calmly wait for her.
She never dreamt it would call any earlier. On these days, she held her husband’s hand
a little bit tighter.'

Comes the time for precious Time when true and complete beauty shows her. face

[Chrissie Muldoon]

Emma, you lovely creature! Giving it a re-read and another review! How gorgeous of you!