Gaunt, emaciated
Can’t hear, can’t see.
But skin soft, silky as ever
Imagination & drama alive, well.
From his Hospice cot, in his delerium
He abuses a taxi driver.
For weeks his hand gently held, caringly stroked.
As he talks, yells, laughs,imagines.
He breathes
Then, 21 years ago today …
He stops.
Note:
This memory is from 1991 and is outside the period it is meant to cover (up to my final year at school) but …
I was last to arrive at St Vincent’s Hospice on this day. Roger, Mum, Stephen & Phil were outside, on a balcony a little way from Peter’s room. I joined them. As we consoled each other someone announcement:
Max, we had a family meeting and decided the last to arrive today has to do a eulogy at the funeral.
We laughed. I did it … you can find it here.
[…] Following is the eulogy spoken at his funeral. I’ve included here because it is referred to in 365 Short Memories #196. […]
Hi Max I was remembering this day myself.Sure doesn’t, seem that long ago.There will always be that empty space. Always good to have memories. Stir have a copy of the eulogy tucked away.you did well.
Thanks Mum – It doesn’t seem so long ago does it. Still have THREE brothers!!! xx