Suddenly there’s a thud in the background of our lives. It causes ripples of tears. Close to they flow large and plentiful and will do so for many years. Further away, where we are, they hit late and with less force. But still we are affected.
A friend has died, a father, the father of one of Eldest’s friends now living overseas: a lovely man. We are stunned and saddened more than I can say. I cry for him and for his wife and for the son I know well and the younger son I hardly know at all. I cry for everyone and find I can’t stop crying. Why?
Because his untimely death puts everything under a microscope of introspection and makes me watch. For days after all I do is watch. I watch as we eat and as we argue, as we each try to be heard above the others, as we sometimes smile but more often bicker and mostly just are. I watch as we hug, kiss, love, hate, dress, sleep, slump together in front of the TV, take turns to wash, make a huge mess and as I try to tidy it all up.
And as I watch I see us take each other for granted and I think of him and of those he left behind. I vow we won’t do this anymore. We will be careful with one another. We will be thankful for what we have. But I know we won’t. This reverberating shock will slowly fade. Until next time.