Of course, the buildup was incredibly eventful as fate tends to make these things. X came home from his Dad's hacking away and wheezing like my Nan after her 60 year Superkings habit (that didnt end well). He woke me up at 3 in the morning on Monday, saying he couldn't sleep. After the Benylin and a stint in our bed I finally sent him back to his own about 5ish where he settled for a fitfull for a couple of hours kip.
Poor little dude was sent home from school Monday, we picked up the hard stuff from the GP and dosed him up with that, too. It seemed to work; his simpering, wiped out demeanour was replaced with the typical joie de vivre that we know and love... most of the time, that is. Early night for X, and us too. Today was to be an important day.
X had an allergic reaction to the prescription he was taking. Ellen had to take him down to Kingston Hospital about 1.30 this morning as a precaution, the two of them returned about 5. So we awoke wearily for the funeral, the young dude was dispatched to a friend of E's for a couple of hours. Clad in black with tie (for the first time in what? A year?) I wont forget looking in the mirror thinking 'Sh*t I look old'. The grey on my temples seems to be compensating for the retreating hairline on my head. However, the early mornings and the stress and the sorrows don't make me want to change my life in the slightest. Today was heart wrenching but the experience is part of what my life has become now.
Kingston Cemetery is hidden away in Good Life land between Kingston and Surbiton. You drive through the main entrance arch and it opens up in front of you, immaculate and very peaceful. We parked and walked up to the waiting room where we waited, flowers in hand for the Father who would preside. What followed will stick in my mind for the rest of my life I reckon. Ellen laid down the coffin which we sat alongside, the church was empty besides the three of us. Do readings from the bible give you solace in times of need? Not me, the Fathers reading struck no chords for me but he was warm, compassionate and kind. All I really needed at that point.
We'd selected a few tunes for our 10 minutes or so to say goodbye to Gerri. My choice was 'Blackbird' by The Beatles and after the first few chords the whole situation finally barged its way past the unreality of my lack of sleep. I can't remember crying with such deep sorrow at any point before in my life. Here in front of me in the most beautiful little wooden coffin was my own child who would never see growing into child and then adulthood. The Father had made cracked a joke about never having to run the rule over spotty adolescent boyfriends, a thought that made me stop and smile slightly. Still, I'd never see my little girl become whatever she would become.
It was over soon enough. The music ended and an unseen hand lowered the platform, flowers and coffin out of sight. We sent our little one away with some final wishes of love and stepped back out into the world again.
So hopefully there's gonna be some closure now. I feel like we've done the right thing and sent Gerri off to wherever she goes with our warmest thoughts. During E and X's early morning day- trip to A&E she told him about Gerri and what was happening today. X seemed to be at peace with it, so we'll get him to pick a flower and visit with us soon. For me, I certainly have more peace than yesterday, I look forward to tomorrow and beyond with a renewed optimism.
We'll just have to see what comes up next.
A.
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