Tag: Inconsolable

Thus spake the inner self

Well, that was short lived — my excursion into the outside world of someone else’s tragedy. [See here]

A brief respite from my own self-absorbed misery, which, later that night, returned with a vengeance, as though to say, You think you can avoid me that easily, escape from yourself by immersing your morbid mind in someone else’s misery. No way, José (my inner self is not really Spanish, but it likes to assume different identities).

So you’re saying, I belligerently replied, that I will never be free of this burden of grief for my dead wife, not to mention two brothers and a son?

That’s exactly what I’m saying, said my ruthless inner self. Face it, amigo (oh, it’s on a Spanish kick tonight), you are inconsolable.

My immediate impulse was to tell my inner self to go fuck itself, but I poured myself another brandy and thought more upon it.

Okay, I said, summoning up as much conviction as I could, then so be it, inconsolable I shall be.

For the rest of your life, taunted my inner self.

Oh, so sorely tempted was I to tell it to go, well you know what, but I gulped down my brandy and declared, All right already, for the rest of my lousy life.

Wear it well, instructed my inner self, and bear it well, with courage and dignity. Do that for your wife, and the rest of them, but mostly for your wife.

Yes, of course, I pondered more to myself than to my inner self, she would have done that, had our fates been reversed.

Ah, oui, mon ami (what are you French now?!), now you’re catching on.

I think I can do that, I said.

You can do it, my inner self said, and now I’m going to bed — I’ll leave you to finish the brandy.


Over and over in your brain

DEATH BED SCENE

Face it — your wife is gone forever

Will you see her again — no never

The pain of that cuts like a knife

You cry every night you cry for your wife

No respite — no end in sight

Every day and every night

In your mind the same scene plays

Over and over in a ghostly haze

Sitting by her side in emergency

Background noises of urgency

You hold her hand still warm in yours

You take that as an encouraging sign

But she’s deeply unconscious unaware

You touch her face you touch her hair

If you can hear me squeeze my hand

Light glints off her wedding band

No squeeze back no sign she heard

Tears in your eyes your vision blurred

Her hand falls back onto  the sheet

Then abruptly no breath — no heartbeat

The horror the dread — your wife is dead!

You can never block that from your head

The same scene plays over and over

Holding her hand still warm in yours

And then her hand falling away

No matter how fervently you pray

You cannot drive that from your brain

You think you are going insane —

The next step will be obvious

Render yourself oblivious.