“Overhead, without any fuss, the
stars were going out.”
That is the closing line of a novelty sci-fi story, Arthur C Clarke's The Nine Billion
Names of God.
So it goes in
life as well: if you have the good fortune to survive, there will be
those around who you do not.
Sometimes, the news comes as a
secondhand surprise: someone reports that someone you lost touch with
was in a car accident isn't it dreadful? And you try to recall
a face to associate with the name, sometimes succeeding, sometimes
not. You say something suitable and curse yourself for insincerity.
Sometimes, however,
it's the fixed stars: those that were always in your night sky.
Those of us bound to each other
because we shared pain in another, younger world; those who we
called to say “I'm sorry to call you at this hour, but you wouldn't
want me to wait. My mother died this morning”. And we cry together
just like when we were teenagers.
A long time ago, we
fell out because you thought I was making a mistaken marriage. Things
worked out, and we awkwardly repaired our friendship.
Twenty years on, when I
thought my wife of 20 years might die, it was you I called to weep and rage
and weep, curled up on the kitchen floor, and you listened. With
the whole of the globe between us, it felt like you held my hand,
wrapped your arms around my shoulders, kissed my forehead, promised
me she wouldn't die tonight. You also reminded me, sharply, that I
had responsibilities: I must sleep, I must offer my strength to the
boys, I must work, and I had to get off the floor and pick up my
burdens, as we all must.
Damn it, if you're dying why didn't
you tell me? Don't you
know how much I love
you?
ADDENDUM
So. I plucked up my courage and asked outright.
"No, I said 'pretty soon I'll be deaf."
You see, when two people on a phone call have damaged hearing, there's lots of scope for missed connections.
I could have removed this post, except: if you love people, they deserve to know it. You don't know where your nemesis lies or when you'll next get the chance to say so.
ADDENDUM
So. I plucked up my courage and asked outright.
"No, I said 'pretty soon I'll be deaf."
You see, when two people on a phone call have damaged hearing, there's lots of scope for missed connections.
I could have removed this post, except: if you love people, they deserve to know it. You don't know where your nemesis lies or when you'll next get the chance to say so.
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