A LUCKY MAN…Reflections.

We’re walking back to the car now, Mike and I, having left the temporary sanctuary of the pub behind us and our annual Salisbury adventure is nearly over once more.

Again it springs to mind that I nearly didn’t come along this year and yet I now know I would have missed so much if I hadn’t. In many ways Mike’s converse and observations have sparked in me something I now believe has been present since the time of Elaine’s death.

I do have the strength within me to carry on life without her, the question has always been do I really want to or not?

The easy option would have been to cop-out, put what I could in order then pull the trigger so to speak, and hope for a forgiving universe, if any at all. But if she was there I know I would not find an altogether forgiving wife. I could just sit and vegetate, reliving the past over and over and willing myself into dying of a broken heart. But to my mind that’s just passing the buck of my fate and still a form of suicide, with the possible penalties the same.

Like it or not I cannot avoid the given understanding in my mind of what is right here and what is simply not.

There is always a certain melancholy on these trips, remembering those now physically no longer part of our lives, yet we always manage to laugh, as Elaine and I did, at both life and death, because there always will be two sides to the coin.

Mike is right to point out how lucky I have been in life and continue to be. Whatever I do now Elaine remains dead to this living world and I must understand that by being alive, and even enjoying life, I am not betraying the love we shared here together.

We dodge fellow pedestrians back to the car park where Mike curses some “Bloody Idiot” who has parked so close he cannot use the drivers’ door but after a few ‘gymnastics’ we are on board and on our way home.

Traffic is heavy but moving steadily, and lights in the houses now join those of the shops and cars creating yet another seasonal display that follows us as we work our way out of the city. I find it very soothing to watch this light flow past. The multiple reflections on the damp surfaces give ever changing patterns the chance to exist, if only for fleeting seconds, and me possibly the only witness to their ‘life’, yet they were there before they passed. More so too were Elaine and Ian and Sue, and I feel inside that it is okay now to remember, with or without tears, their lives and their passing and not have to carry any longer a burden of guilt for my own continued existence.

Mike knows the way well and those lights are soon enough left behind us as the car becomes cloaked in the increasing darkness of approaching night. As that darkness welcomes us the tension of city driving eases from my friend and he asks a question.

“Are you afraid of anything right now Mark?”

“You mean your driving?”

“Piss off, I mean in your mind not physically.”

I reply in a forced jokey voice “Do ya’ wana’ list?”

“No, I mean it mate sometimes it shows on your face where you can’t hide it.”

I think for a moment.

“My greatest fear was always losing Elaine, when that happened it turned me on my head. I wasn’t afraid of death anymore, at least not my own, but I was afraid of living on without her.”

“But you have-three years now.”

“Yeah, but it’s been a combination of dragging myself through and being dragged.”

“But it’s worked, doesn’t matter how, you’re still here and it’s the end result that matters.”

“I suppose so, but it’s leaving me feeling bloody ragged.”

Mike is silent for a moment or two as the car in front slows to turn off, then he continues. “I can’t argue with you there but what about now, now that Elaine has gone, do you fear getting too close with Marilyn in case you lose her also?”

“Once bitten twice shy you mean. Yes there is an element of that I suppose. We’ve already spent time in A&E when her heart played-up, though that didn’t really worry me too much at the time. But since we’ve been seeing one another we’ve already been to four funerals and five wakes plus I attended another burial alone and missed yet another. As you pointed out earlier neither of us are spring chickens and I reckon there is a form of self-defence to worrying that I might be left alone again if fate shuffles the cards that way for us.”

“It cuts both ways mate, what if you go first and she’s left alone again? Though she appears willing to take that chance.”

“Good point, but she does seem more open to living in the now than me.”

“She’s had more time to acclimatise Mark, you’re getting there I feel, but please don’t dawdle your ass off stewing on the past, you can’t alter a fucking second of it no matter how hard you grieve.”

I think Mike feels he has made his point for the moment. He slows the car and we head downhill into the village of Coombe Bissett as a stream of slow traffic passes us heading for the city we have just left. After a few minutes he hits full beam and the accelerator as we reach open country once more.

“You know Mark the most dangerous thing we’ll do today is the journey we’re on now and the one that we did this morning. We assume we are going to get to our destinations’ but there are no guarantees, some people travelling today won’t ever complete their trips, fate or pure chance will intervene. But that’s the way life is, we aren’t mean to spend our time worrying about possibilities that may never be, it’s time wasted that won’t be there again.”

I reflect on his words, staring out at the disappearing landscape. The light of day has nearly passed. It defies victorious night with final angry streaks of orange and deep red across a vast skyline to the edge of a horizon already blurred into the shadow of the earth.

Mike continues, “Just before you got married, when you found out the cancer was back, and the thought was in your mind-and you told me it was- that Elaine might die before you even had a year of marriage, did you consider not getting involved further in case you lost her and got hurt.”

“Of course not, never occurred to me. I was totally in love with her, would have followed her into hell if I had to.”

“You did. You were by her side through the next twenty-five years of it, always together. I know it tormented her seeing what her illness put you through but she had the security of your love to rely on and what a joy it must have been to know she was loved so much.

“What I’m trying to say mate is that you felt fear then, real fear, but you pushed on with life, you didn’t run you just got on with it both of you. Look back Mark at what you would have missed if your fears had been allowed to dictate the terms; you pushed on then and whether it’s for her sake or yours you’ll do the same now.

“It stands to reason that either you or Mar’ will be left to mourn the passing of the other but for goodness sake don’t let something you can’t change bollocks-up what you can enjoy now.”

We drive on in silence for a while. Night is suddenly fully around us, only the headlights and the glow from the dashboard prevent it from completely enveloping our small world that is the car we sit in.

There’s something I want to ask my friend and now he is captive here with me feels the right moment.

“Mike, do you think I should carry on with the blog or call it a day and stop?”

I can almost hear his mind ticking over in the ensuing silence, then…

“Seems to me that only you can fully answer that, I don’t believe you’re going to stop it even if I answer yes right now that you should.”

“Then you think I should?”

“That’s not what I’m saying. I think you’ll know yourself when the time is right. Why are you asking now anyway?”

After the last one (Little Star) I ran into a friend of Elaine’s who follows it. She said to me “I guess you’ll be calling it a day with the writing now.”

I asked her why.

“Because you’re with someone else now and life is moving on so you won’t want to keeping writing about Elaine for much longer will you?”

In the gloom of the car I can see Mike frowning. “What did you say to that?”

“I didn’t really, it took me a bit by surprise to be honest, but since then I’ve been thinking perhaps I’m just wasting time with it. Maybe I am flogging a dead wife too much and people have moved on from Elaine and the blog is now just me calling out into an empty world.”

“Have you asked Anna (Blake)?”

“Yes, she basically said that it’s entirely up to me but maybe it is time to change, maybe stop Horse Husband Cancer and start a new blog of my own. Start my own Facebook thing up too. I only keep Elaine’s Facebook open as many people read the blog that way though I don’t make comments through it as it somehow doesn’t feel right to do so as I see it as still hers.”

“But you do reply to comments directly on the blog, so does that mean you no longer see that as hers?”

“I never thought of that.”

“You should. The way I see things is that when you started writing the blog it was firmly still Elaine’s and it was for her that you wrote it, but now my friend it has become yours, you carry the pen Mark like it or not.

“Also, what real point is there to starting another blog, can you see yourself writing and not mentioning Elaine again, of course not. There’s nothing wrong with writing about Elaine and your life together but the focus is changing, it’s naturally going to become more about you and your life now, I think that will interest people just as much too. If you feel right in sharing that then there’s nothing wrong in continuing to do so. It’s for you now Mark not Elaine and I think that’s how it’s meant to be, how she would want it to be.”

“I’ve been thinking something the same but, trouble is, I’m never sure as to whether I’m right or not.”

“You are right. Self-doubt I reckon is a close bed partner to grief, part of the mix of emotions that have been your life since you lost Elaine. But Mark, time has passed, and the road you find yourself on now is only as bumpy as you want it to be. When this all started three years back you had very little control, if any, but its’ different now and I think deep inside you know that, its’ just fear once more, fear of letting go in case you lose all over again, but you won’t and you can’t. Move forwards mate and allow life to move with you.”

I pitch another question.

“If I had died and she had lived what do you think she would have done?”

He thinks for a few moments, eyes concentrating on the beams of light pushing the darkness before us.

“Grieved as heavy and hard as you have. Cried as many tears as well no doubt, but Elaine was strong Mark and practical when she had to be, you know it, she would have known there was no going back, would have eventually fixed that smile into place and moved forward never forgetting, but determined to live life with the memories as her friends and comfort not as her master or dictator.

“Does that answer your question?”

“Fuck me, I think that was both barrels.”

A smile spreads across his face, “Had to be.”

We let the topics of the day drop, and travel on in that silence that doesn’t embarrass good friends. When we get back to the Lodge Mike comes in for the traditional end of day cup of tea and to make a fuss of the cats who sense food may be imminent.

He genuinely enjoys seeing the Christmas tree lit-up and too the outside lights; done as a surprise many years ago for Elaine and carried on with ever since.

After he’s gone I walk back indoors light the woodstove and sit with just the lights of the tree and its glow for company.

It always has felt alien coming back to an empty home for these last three years. Even if she were out Elaine would always leave tea cups and biscuits or cake at the ready for our return. For over a thousand days and nights it has been like this. That I’ll never get used to it I know but somehow I’ll have to learn to live alongside of it and that will just have to suffice.

I always enjoy Mikes’ company and it was good to walk amongst people in the city today, to be reassured of life still going on, regardless.

The lights of the gaudy tree are reflecting in the near black of the six windows around me and Elaine’s ornate mirror above the fireplace. They seem somehow to show fleeting moments of past times this room has witnessed and then are gone again, momentary lives, like those reflections on the city pavements.

I can’t help but reflect too. Christmases with my wife right here where I sit now, so many, even some before we were married. It’s good to have their company once more, but I am aware that they must not be allowed to step fully out of my past to overrule my present time.

Despite grief or maybe because of it I have an inner clarity now, a little fuzzy round the edges I’ll grant you, but I feel it will become clearer and establish itself given time and encouragement.

“Your place is with the living, not the dead. Dip into those memories those past times Mark by all means, but don’t try to stay there, you don’t belong, not yet, one day but not yet. And if the chance to share life is there, however fleeting it may prove to be, grasp it, grasp it tight and run, don’t be afraid.

“You may have to face death again and grief also, but they too are all part of the circle, the dance if you like that is the price we pay for life and love, and it’s worth every penny because the dance goes on. Life is the cards you are dealt, the achievement is to live but they are not the same thing. One doesn’t necessarily follow the other you have to make the effort, complete your part in the dance.”

I shake myself awake. Sammy has come in and jumped up beside me on the sofa. I’d dozed off but for how long? What day is it? Oh yes Friday, we’ve been in Salisbury all day Mike and I, it’s dark outside but who was talking just now before Sam came in? I can hear the words, and something is telling me to write them down quickly, before I forget.

I’ll be back…