dreams and nightmares - no. 65

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.