I am awake, 5am. Not usual for me yet sleep evades as I feel I am living a strange vivid dream.
In part this start of life in Eastwood or Kimberley had been strangely compartmentalised, strangely submerged into my subconscious. Yet suddenly this month life here emerged with a beckoning call.
Our interactions with our blood family are profound. When I remember April 6th 1990. Terry, my dad, left this world of suffering, sacrifice, and sadness, after a time of fighting Mesothelioma. Horrible cancer derived from a constant exposure to Asbestos, so used in construction in the 1960’s. Remember that Friday, an unusual break in the Friday routine.
Generally me and dad , me first from Church where I worked, taking the trek to 2 Kirby Close, to the house of Harry and Edith Durose. Grandparents who I still after 30 years miss greatly. My grandfather Harry, well liked in the Eastwood community for his capacity to write, had many an entertaining letter or column in the local rag.
These Friday night times were highlights as Harry told his stories and Edith hospitable grandmother prepared a meal. Dad would arrive at 9, to unwind from a week in self employment, a joiner, a craftsman. This was the scene to reminisce , to smile at the curiosities that Harry Durose would get us so involved in the many rich histories.
That history shattered by dad’s passing in 1990. My leaving for Brixham shortly after. What I have learnt from then Harry and Edith never recovered, as did not the extended family from such a great loss. Harry passing away suddenly in 1993. Edith lived alone until 1990’s when for incapacity went to a care home and passed in 1997.
In this in between i had lived in Cinderford after Brixham, then in 1995 living in Portugal, marrying and children in 1996 and 2000. 15 years would go by.
For me that bereavement in 1990 froze me in time, as I concentrated on my Vocation, as dad’s passing had a powerful spiritual catharsis, that took me from Nottingham to Devon and beyond. Each April would come round dad’s death anniversary, and I would transpose that spiritual encounter with a message on Facebook. Yet I was young and unwise, whilst I would wax lyrical about my experience I forgot sometime that I was not the only one to lose dad. Mum lost her husband and my two brothers, and my brothers partner and daughter loss was also real. They had a very different experience to mine.
I returned to the UK in 2011 fully with family. Yet that break, family ties of my own were all but consigned to dreamy recollection.
These weeks in contrast, am older and hope somewhat wiser, had the strong impression to return. Behind me I had another family, in Portugal, and ever present support. This week mum had been admitted to hospital for the 3rd time in so short a time and suffering infection around the heart, and she seemed very tired in spirit and body.
When I entered the room in hospital, warm welcome from my brother, my mother, our mother said in a very faint way “what do you think about my situation, it don’t look good” or words to that effect. I replied affirming the seriousness of where she was and the hope that surely solution could be had.
She transitioned back and forth, between sleep and to speak faintly to us. The consultant broke our reverie to speak to us about draining the liquid that had collected around the heart and he leaving all of us brothers to dialogue with mum about the benefits of the procedure yet also understanding the risks. She then gave consent and we stayed till early evening came away.
Suddenly about 7pm my brother sent through WhatsApp a copy of a doctors phone call to home, that Joyce Emily had declined considerably since our departure. Her brother rushed to her side, and we then heard she stabilised overnight, so when we arrived early she seemed bright again. Her brother returned and we all met downstairs.
That day (24th January) was an emotional roller coaster. She was deemed fit enough to go through the procedure, and at 11.30 she had already gone down to the procedure room to drain off 400mls of fluid that made it difficult to breathe. We went home to await the doctors call. Which came at around 3pm, positive and hopeful.
What we did not realise that having come back to the room, due to various factors, me and brother forcibly removed to a side office, then after a confused wait to be told “Joyce is no longer with us”. Shock, even not I comprehending the significance of those words. I had to emphatically ask if that is what I heard. After my brothers also reacted in their way, to this reality we were granted that last time in the room where Joyce Emily no longer was, remained her body.
Some essential details have been purposely left out for consideration for family members. Yet our loss is profound and I personally am navigating the grief of my own and the others too.
The purpose for sharing this, as you know this site has a function to teach Scripture, yet this area of losing a family member, however our connection with them be, is a labarynth of uncharted emotional adjustments. It is easy to come with Bible knowledge, or even teaching. The first sensation always is: sudden emptiness that that person has left us. How do we embrace this area of death in the family?
In my presence here has forced me to reflect upon how do we navigate bereavement? We make the mistake in the Christian world to present the afterlife, heaven, rather than connect with loss. It is loss, and it feels permanent because that person no longer fill that routine daily. Its a sudden emptiness, that in these initial stages hard to face.
How do the other members of that family adjust? And whilst others may not share our position in terms of our Christian faith, others may not have lived it out. There remains a sensitivity to others, their loss and what comes after.
What happens in the family regarding the difficulties experienced, the falling out, the different years where contact wavered?
I am sharing with you personal processes in this course of life, an unloading but also hopefully a therapeutic exercise not just for me but for others.
The next few days and maybe the next month will be difficult and at the same time transitioning the stages of grief, we will find a meaningful pathway ahead.
Rest In Peace Joyce Emily.
Leave a Reply