196. There is no title for this memory …

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.

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