The rattle of the final gasp
Mirrors screams from baby’s lungs,
From birth to death we cry
And love and sleep
But when the deathbed calls
And ghostly shrouds of hospital gowns
Cloak our bodies like the blankets
Wrapped around us on our birthday.
Tears are spilled on both days,
The day we come and then
The day we drift back into nothingness.
I have just finished listening to the audiobook by Richard E Grant. He has written it about the death of his wife and it has really touched me in so many ways. I think that I have been affected by it so much because I have not experienced the death of a close family member, so it all feels so scary- and possible.
Richard and his wife were about the same age as my parents, and I’m a similar age to their daughter, so that also made it hit home just a little more. I haven’t spoken to my mu in several years, and yet I haven’t really thought about how I would feel if the worst should happen to her. Reading this book has given me a bit of perspective in that respect.
The book is so touching because you can hear how much Richard adored his wife, and it’s heartbreaking to listen to that pain. And yet, the end feels so much like birth. There are all the practical things to deal with, like paperwork, there are deep emotions and there is pain.
And I like to think that we go back to the same place we came from before birth.
A bit of a ramble, I know, but hearing someone talk about death always sparks so many thoughts and questions in my own mind. It becomes like a little conversation with myself, babbling on about things that nobody else would understand.