Here is a tiny extract from towards the end of the memoire that Esther was writing during the course of my book "The Raven's Nest." For context: she talks to ghosts, particularly Tim, who died a decade before the book opened. Aisling is an ICU nurse.
. I still couldn’t think of anything more to say to Tim, so I started
singing, the songs he sang most often around the house.
Oh lorrrd, won’t you buy me a merrrrrcedes benz? My friends all drive
porscheees, I must make amends. Worked hard all my lifetime, no help from my
friends, so lord, won’t you buy me a mercedes benz?” The “night on the town” stanza
had me in tears, especially the “prove that you love me and buy the next round”
line, but I swallowed it down.
Then Joy to the World. Tim had his own lyrics: “Jeremiah was a bullfrog, and a mighty good frog was he, he called for his pipe and he called for his bowl and he called for his fishermen three.” I sang the Tim version, of course. I was singing quietly, but Aisling was listening with relish.
While I
was singing about bullfrogs, she came and flicked open the curtains, and a flood
of gorgeous, clear early-morning-light fell into the room and all over Tim. He
was lit up like an intubated saint, painted by one of the Renaissance greats in
luminous, glowing oils.
Something tonight reminded me of this, specifically: "... she came and flicked open the curtains, and a flood of gorgeous, clear early-morning-light fell into the room and all over Tim. He was lit up like an intubated saint, painted by one of the Renaissance greats in luminous, glowing oils."
I do, in fact, remember someone else, not Tim, who really did look like an intubated saint painted in luminous, glowing oils in the morning sun as he lay still, a machine breathing for him, capable only of communicating by hand-squeezes. Travel well, my friend.
