His work so absorbed him.
Could she hear him?
Could she see him?
All aglow was his room,
Dazed in this light.
He would touch her,
He would hold her.
Laughing as they danced,
Highest colours touching others.
Did her eyes at the turn of the century,
Tell me plainly.
… In the still light of dawn, she dies.
Turn of the Century, Song by Yes
Featured Image: The Dying Ruthlessness
Ruth has shown a few more ‘signs’ for me of being there, since I last communicated with you. She is still very weak. An insightful moment was last night. Margs felt that she didn’t have a chance to talk to Ruth because people were coming and going in the home. It was late at night around 10pm and we were in the lounge talking quietly. So, I said to Margs, why don’t you go and talk with your mum now. And Margs and I went to the bedroom, and we hoisted the front part of the hospital bed up [in our home bedroom], so Ruth could hear Margs talk. Ruth couldn’t speak, but could only nod, very weakly. And Margs talk a bit about the things she was doing. After a few moments, Margs looked troubled about Ruth’s condition, and so I asked her softly, “Do you want to know what is going to happen to mum…the processes that are happening in her body.” While Margs paused to think, Ruth — who had been absolutely silent that day — turned her head towards me at the side of the bed, and said with a clear voice, “Well, I think I don’t want to hear”. Margs and I immediately broke out with side-splitting laughter, and on Ruth’s face was a distinctive smile.
Image: Ruth’s favourite band in those days was Snow Patrol
Neville Buch
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