the sudden impact of death
Here's the next of my self-portraits.
I didn't see it happen but I heard it. The murder of crows descending on a pigeon. Did it die here in our garden?
These are the sudden impacts of death that shaped who I am.
A dead sister, aged just eight racing her bicycle behind the bus as she sees her godfather wave from the opposite side of the road. The car hit her.
A dead father, alone in a lay-by aged forty-eight, as a massive coronary engulfed him.
The mourning of a son. Why didn't I see? He's thirty two years old, but still a little child.
The mourning of a grandson. He lives! They gave him a year at best but still his heart beats at the centre of our family. He holds out a hand.
Sometimes it hurts.
