Tuesday 18 May 2010

A matter of life and death

I'm sitting here feeling rather unwell, entirely self-inflicted as I finally caved and bought some strawberries this afternoon. I've fancied them for a couple of weeks, not a massive strawberry fan but the little ones are yummy....and healthy enough on their own but I tried to resist as I just knew I'd end up covering them in sugar and cream! I nipped into Lidl after picking Darcie up from school today to get some toilet paper (I'm sure we use more than any other family in the world) and there they were, big punnets of tasty looking strawberries. It was so hot, a lovely summery afternoon, and strawberries are traditionally summer fruit......before I knew it I was queuing up with my toilet paper, strawberries and a can of squirty cream which I tried to convince myself was really for the kids. The strawberries were delicious, but as always I overdid it, I'm actually having trouble breathing......and the kids didn't get any squirty cream!

Recently I've been thinking about death quite often, hope that isn't an omen and I'm not going to kick the bucket just yet. A couple of weeks ago I was walking up to the library with Harvey and having one of those pre-menstrual why-is-my-life-so-crap afternoons. Everything just seemed so pointless and I could sense a full blown bad mood approaching which is never a good thing for those around me. Just beyond the library is St Mary's church, the scene of a particularly hideous Christmas carol service involving Darcie's school a couple of years ago. It's a big, imposing church with a large graveyard and frightening looking funeral directors strategically positioned opposite. Anyway, I was stomping along muttering to myself, when a hearse drove slowly by, containing the obligatory coffin and a ton of flowers. I always feel a weird sense of guilt when I see a hearse, although I know I'm (hopefully) not responsible for the person's death. I think it's more guilt at the fact that I'm alive and they're not, when in all probability he/she was a better person than me!
The heart-wrenching "Dad" flower arrangement propped up against the coffin was bad enough, but then we realised that there was a little truck trundling after the hearse, covered in yet more flowers and other tributes. It seemed like hundreds of people were pouring into the church ahead of us, and I realised just how loved that man must have been. Hopefully he was an older guy, who had lived a full and happy life, and clearly had many people who cared enough about him to spend a warm Friday afternoon sitting in a cold and spooky church. But still, that mans life was over, and I soon snapped out of my mood when I realised just how lucky I am to be alive.

My dad turned 73 nine days ago, and it's fairly likely that the bloke in the coffin was a similar age or even younger. Of course people can die at any age, but it's generally assumed that the older you are the more likely you are to die, morbid as it sounds! My dad was 42 the month before I was born, so not a very young man even then, but I can clearly remember him going off to work every day, playing table tennis, days out and holidays with him, and sometimes playing tennis in the summer with me and my fury because he rarely let me win! I've never been particularly close to my dad, it was always my mum who did stuff with me on a daily basis when I was a kid, and if it came down to it I'd chose her over him even now. (unless I was being forced to pick one of them to partner me in a chocolate eating competition, then I'd go for my dad every time - my mum has an unnatural aversion to the stuff!) The thing is though, it's suddenly hit me that my dad's officially old, and I've already lost him in a way. I'll probably never go on holiday with him again, or for a proper day out; the dad that did things like that has gone, and there's this old man in his place. Of course he's still the same person, and everyone gets older, but it's an odd feeling. I think for me it's especially hard to watch my parents growing older, because I never really had any grandparents so never saw it happen with them. Of course I realise that I've lost my babies, and my kids have grown, but you expect children to change, somehow parents should be the same forever!
Something else that struck me when I watched that hearse was that very soon it could be my dad, not someone else's. Hopefully he'll live to a hundred, and the horrible thing is that he could in theory outlive my kids, it happens. (sometimes I've seriously thought he will live longer than Darcie, I've come that close to murdering her!) I think many people assume that their parents will be around forever, and the prospect of facing life without them is a scary one. I've lived away from my mum & dad for over 12 years, I don't honestly need them on a daily basis, but I think it's true that we always need our parents. My mum says that I have two homes, mine and theirs, and it's unimaginable that one day they won't be around. I know I'm lucky to have my parents, despite them driving me mad at times - my mum lost her natural mother at the age of 19, and for many years I worried that history would repeat itself. Fortunately it hasn't, and I've had a mother for 12 years longer than my mum had one.
My mum is nearly 10 years younger than my dad, and ten times as active. She was very nearly 30 when they got married, and he was pushing 40, she says the age gap didn't really concern her at the time and I doubt she thought about how things would be thirty-three years down the line. My mum hasn't aged as dramatically as my dad has, and I know he frustrates her because he won't do half the things she wants him to. I know my mum enjoys life, but don't think my dad does really, which is a shame because there are so many things they could enjoy together. There's a line from a song, can't remember which one right now, but it goes something like "I don't want to die, but I'm not keen on living either...." could be Robbie Williams, I'll have to look it up. I often think those words sum up how my dad is. He's a real worry, but what can I do, I guess I just have to hope that he'll still be worrying me in ten years time.

Death is something which I find intensely terrifying, yet strangely fascinating. Simon & I have had various conversations over the years about dying (including how many years we'd have to spend in prison if we murdered the kids, and whether it's worth going for it, currently swaying towards yes) Death is something which constantly surrounds us, it's a part of life and the most frightening thing is that it's inevitable. The truth is that I brought two children into this world, who will eventually have to deal with death, and that worries me. Sometimes I watch Darcie with my parents and realise that one day she'll lose them. As I said, of course they could live longer than her, but it's more likely that someone will have to tell her that the granny she adores is dead, and in all probability that someone will be me. This is all very negative of course, with any luck my mum will be watching her great-grandchildren run around the park in twenty years time. The big thing though, one of my greatest fears, is that I'll outlive my kids - I don't think any parent should attend the funeral of their child, but it happens so often. Yesterday, a girl Simon has known for years was killed in a car-crash. I think she was 26, and presumably had both parents, who have now lost their daughter. Death is all around us constantly, but until it touches our lives we often don't think of it. I didn't know this girl, but still find it unbelievable that a young, healthy, attractive, nice, harmless woman can get into her car one normal morning, have a collision with a lorry and die. She had her whole future ahead of her, and thats been snatched away, the boyfriend who might have become her husband and the father of her children now has to carry on living without her. I always struggle to find the reason for things like this, it's just so senseless. Again though, I think events like this touch our lives to make us realise just how very lucky we are.

I've been aware for a long time that at any moment my life could be snatched away from me, and that I should make the most of every minute. Recent events have made me realise just how fragile and short life is, and I know I shouldn't focus on what I don't have, but instead on what I do have. There are so many opportunities open to me, and I feel I'm wasting precious time in many ways. I believe that life is a game, and sometimes I feel as if I'm standing in a room with closed doors surrounding me, and a clock ticking. I could push open any one of those doors, but have no idea what lies behind them, how my life will change if I walk through a doorway. It's a mixture of excitement and fear, and the whole time that clock is counting down, at any minute the buzzer could go off and then that's it, game over. Do I stay where I am or do I change something, pick a door and open it? All I need is motivation and courage, but I'm not sure I have either, I'm acutely aware that any decision I make could be wrong, and I don't dislike where I am. But things could be much better through a certain door......which one though?

All Darcie wants is to be an adult, she simply can't wait to grow up as in her eyes, being a adult represents everything she could possibly dream of. I wish I could make her understand that she should treasure her childhood,as being an adult is the hardest thing she will ever do.






No comments:

Post a Comment