"It’s been 10 years since he died. 10 years. Though it never feels like 10 years. It always feels like he died yesterday. Or the day before. It normally feels like yesterday to be honest. I can still remember the way he looked at me as he collapsed. I have nightmares about that face. I have dreams in which I saved him and caught him when he fell. But most times I just relive the moment over and over and it breaks my heart more each time. Every time the anniversary comes around it just feels like hours rather than years. It’s weird that, isn't it?
Of course, I'm not the only one who mourned. All our friend's mourned and all our family. Even some people in town that he'd helped over the years! He worked at the youth club at night for 30 years and he did odd jobs for people when they needed help. He was even mayor at one point! But there's a difference between the way I mourned him and how the town mourned him. The town remember him as John Kent: South African friend, handyman, youth worker, philanthropist who died at 77. But I remembered him as John Kent: South African human, husband, father, brother and soul-mate who died at 77. The town didn't know him like I did. Or how his children or his siblings did.
I still remember, even though I’m 87 and very old and losing my mind a bit, the first day I met John. It was February 1945 and it was a rainy day. I was waiting for a date actually. I wasn’t expecting much from it. Maybe a couple more dates, maybe even a bit of holding hands. Maybe something more but I didn’t dream of that. Anyway, we’re in this café in Morpeth. I’d seen John around but I hadn’t properly met him as I’d been off round the country making munitions for the war effort. I’m sat in the corner waiting for my date who never showed when John walks over to me. I look up at him and that was it. I was…amazed. He was so handsome that day. And he came over and he said to me “you seem to be on your lonesome, dear” so I confirmed his assumption to which he said “well, would you like some company?” and I suddenly felt star struck. I’d been slightly obsessed with this guy as I’d seen him around town in a uniform, and he was offering to keep me company after my date ditched me! That was a surreal moment. But I can honestly say that’s the moment I fell in love with him. I’d been dubious about love at first sight before that moment but then it happened and I believed. I still believe. And, as much as I love my life and my family, I can’t wait until I’m with him again. And I know he’d say the same were the tables turned…”
***************
"It’s been 10 years since she died. 10 years. Though it never feels like 10 years. It always feels like she died yesterday. Or the day before. It normally feels like yesterday to be honest. I can still remember the way she looked at me as she collapsed. I have nightmares about that face. I have dreams in which I saved her and caught her when she fell. But most times I just relive the moment over and over and it breaks my heart more each time. Every time the anniversary comes around it just feels like hours rather than years. It’s weird that, isn't it?
Of course, I'm not the only one who mourned. All our friend's mourned and all our family. Even some people in town that she'd helped over the years! She volunteered for the WI at night for 30 years and she did odd jobs for people when they needed help and helped with the carnival and with the rebuilding after the war. But there's a difference between the way I mourned her and how the town mourned her. The town remember her as Eleanor Kent: friend, volunteer, gardener, philanthropist who died at 77. But I remembered her as Eleanor Kent: human, wife, mother, sister and soul-mate who died at 77. The town didn't know her like I did. Or how her children or her siblings did.
I still remember, even though I’m 87 and very old and losing my mind a bit, the first day I met Eleanor. It was February 1945 and it was a rainy day. I was waiting for a friend actually. I wasn’t expecting much from it as they were awful with keeping time. Maybe a couple of drinks at the cafe and then at the pub. Perhaps even in the next village but I didn’t dream of that. Anyway, I'm in this café in Morpeth. I’d seen Eleanor around but I hadn’t properly met her as I’d been off on the base doing drills and basic training in case I was called up for the war. I’m stood at the counter waiting for my friend who never showed when I see Eleanor in the corner on her own. So I walked over to her. I look down at her and that was it. I was…mesmerized. She was beautiful. The most beautiful thing I'd ever seen in my 19 years. I said to her “you seem to be on your lonesome, dear”. She confirmed this assumption to which I said “well, would you like some company?” She said yes and I suddenly felt star struck. I’d been slightly infatuated with this girl as I’d seen her around town in a stunning red dress one time, and I was sitting with her after my friend ditched me! That was a surreal moment. But I can honestly say that’s the moment I fell in love with her. I’d been dubious about love at first sight before that moment but then it happened and I believed. I still believe. And, as much as I love my life and my family, I can’t wait until I’m with her again. And I know she’d say the same were the tables turned…”
No comments:
Post a Comment