Story by Abby Lynne
Chapter one: Goodbye
Young hands, old skin. My fingers were intertwined with his. Each breath was light, as if it weren't there. Mum in the corner, his girlfriend at his side, kids gathered by the bed. The peacefulness of his resting body drew silence to the room. The day had finally come when his life had caught up with his ageing body.
Dad had always been a smoker. Born of the days when men were men and women were women. A simple country man was dad, fascinated by the big city but always at home with the fresh country air. He was told he had two months to live provided he quit that evening. Dirty habits had dirty consequences and this dirty habit had shaved years from his life. Yellow fingernails and brittle teeth led to paper-thin dry skin that bled when lightly knocked. The skin from his feet was pealing off and the skin that was left on his body had turned pale with shades of purple. Dandruff fell like salt from a shaker not to mention the terrible jittery shakes that shock his once steady hand. The drugs he took to compensate for the damage the cigarettes had caused were worse then the smokes themselves. Only he had taken it too far now, it was either the drugs and a shortly extended yet rapidly declining life, or the grave. With two young girls, and a full first family of children, the choice was not a choice but a necessity.
With two hours to live, the final countdown had arrived. In a comer with only hearing left as a means of communication, all other passages had gone. His body had finally given up. I believed he had chosen this moment to die. Moments before he was lifted to the ambulance he had spoken to me through his eyes; a direct communication that only the piercing grey eyes of a dying old man could muster. His eyes were the only thing left that had any colour, the only thing left he had to reach me with. I could feel him saying "good bye". There was certain peacefulness in this, as if the moment were right, everything was in a strange way, "okay". I had at that moment in my heart accepted his choice and with great respect I told him it was okay. I understood the urgency to rid himself of the body that had turned to imprison him. Holding his hand to keep it warm I looked up to search his face for sign of life. And it was then that I realised he had gone. Lacking the usual rise and fall of breath, his chest lay flat.
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POEM BY - Nelson Mandela
Our deepest fear is not that we are inadequate
Our deepest fear is that we are powerful beyond measure
We ask ourselves, who am I be brilliant, gorgeous, talented and fabulous?
Actually, who are you NOT to be?
You are a child of god.
Your playing small does not serve the world.
There is nothing enlightened about shrinking so that other people wont feel insecure around you.
We are all meant to shine.
We where born to make manifest the glory of god that's within us and we let our own light shine,
we unconsciously give other poeple permission to do the same as we're liberated from our own fear,
our presence automatically liberates others.
- from Nelson Mandella's 1994 Inaugural address
-
Poem by Kirsti A. Dyer
In Memory of You
I find an old photograph
and see your smile.
As I feel your presence anew,
I am filled with warmth
and my heart remembers love.
I read an old card
sent many years ago
during a time of turmoil and confusion.
The soothing words written then
still caress my spirit
and bring me peace.
I remember who you used to be
the laughter we shared
and wonder what you have become.
Where are you now,
Where did you go,
When the body is left behind
and the spirit is released to fly?
Perhaps you are the morning bird
singing joyfully at sunrise,
or the butterfly that dances
so carelessly on the breeze
or the rainbow of colors
that brightens a stormy sky
or the fingers of afternoon mist
delicately reaching over the mountains
or the final few rays of the setting sun
lighting up the skies
edging the clouds with a magical glow.
I miss your being
but I feel your presence,
In whatever form you choose to take,
however you now choose to be.
Your spirit has become for me
a guardian angel on high
guiding, advising, and watching over me.
I remember you.
You are with me
and I am not afraid.
© 1996 Kirsti A. Dyer, MD, MS. All rights reserved.
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Each year he sent her roses,
and the note would always say,
I love you even more this year,
than last year on this day.
My love for you will always grow,
with every passing year."
She knew this was the last time
that the roses would appear.
She thought, he ordered roses
in advance before this day.
Her loving husband did not know,
that he would pass away.
He always liked to do things early,
way before the time.
Then, if he got too busy,
everything would work out fine.
She trimmed the stems and
placed them in a very special vase.
Then, sat the vase beside
the portrait of his smiling face.
She would sit for hours,
In her husband's favorite chair.
While staring at his picture,
and the roses sitting there.
A year went by, and it was
to live without her mate.
With loneliness and solitude,
that had become her fate.
Then, the very hour,
as on Valentines before,
The doorbell rang, and there
were roses sitting by her door.
She brought the roses in,
and then just looked at them in shock.
Then, went to get the telephone,
to call the florist shop.
The owner answered, and she asked him,
if he would explain,
Why would someone do this to her,
causing her such pain?
"I know your husband passed away,
more than a year ago,"
The owner said, "I knew you'd call,
and you would want to know.
The flowers you received today,
were paid for in advance.
Your husband always planned ahead,
he left nothing to chance.
There is a standing order,
that I have on file down here,
And he has paid, well in advance,
you'll get them every year.
There also is another thing,
that I think you should know,
He wrote a special little card...
he did this years ago.
Then, should ever I find out
that he's no longer here,
that's the card that should be sent
to you the following year."
She thanked him and hung up the phone,
her tears now flowing hard.
Her fingers shaking, as she slowly reached
To get the card.
Inside the card, she saw that
he had written her a note.
Then, as she stared in total silence,
this is what he wrote...
"Hello my love, I know it's been a year
since I've been gone.
I hope it hasn't been too hard
for you to overcome.
I know it must be lonely,
and the pain is very real.
Or if it was the other way,
I know how I would feel.
The love we shared made everything
so beautiful in life.
I loved you more than words can say,
you were the perfect wife.
You were my friend and lover,
you fulfilled my every need.
I know it's only been a year,
but please try not to grieve.
I want you to be happy,
even when you shed your tears.
That is why the roses
will be sent to you for years.
When you get these roses,
think of all the happiness,
That we had together,
and how both of us were blessed.
I have always loved you
and I know I always will.
But, my love, you must go on,
you have some living still.
Please...try to find happiness,
while living out your days.
I know it is not easy,
but I hope you find some ways.
The roses will come every year,
and they will only stop,
When your door's not answered,
when the florist stops to knock.
He will come five times that day,
in case you have gone out.
But after his last visit,
he will know without a doubt
To take the roses to the place,
where I've instructed him.
and place the roses where we are,
together once again.
Sometimes in life,
you find a special friend;
Someone who changes your life
just by being part of it.
Someone who makes you laugh
until you can't stop;
Someone who makes you believe
that there really is good in the world.
Someone who convinces you that there really is
an unlocked door just waiting for you to open it.
This is Forever Friendship. This is the sacred RED
ROSE.
