The name of Snow
Page 23
So quickly your colour faded
Your last breath stolen away
Let your light continue shining
Turning darkness into bright Summer’s day
And now as I do my duty
Put you back to where you came from
Of one thing you can be certain
The love of your number one son.
Jay folded the paper again and placed it back in his breast pocket. He looked over towards the coffin, holding tears back from his eyes.
“Goodbye Dad”
Jay descended the steps slowly as the church organ played yet more melancholic music.
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A short drive out of Grasmere brought them to Aunt Liz’s house where they would hold the wake. It was here that Jay spent many happy summers together with his grandparents and his father, running around the huge garden and its lush vegetation bathed in sunshine. Jay’s grandparents had bequeathed the house to Aunt Liz in their will. Jay’s dad didn’t mind though, saying that he preferred it to stay in the family rather than being sold off to some ‘bloody strangers’. The house looked as it always had. To Jay, it was the perfect Hansel and Gretel cottage of reddish sand stone set amongst English roses and dry stone walls, but without a witch.
“Good speech Jay.. very moving”
“Thank you Aunt Liz” Jay felt a little embarrassed about using the word ‘aunt’ given his age.
Aunt Liz straightened Jay’s jacket collar as they stood on the flagstone path leading up to the front door. She then turned crossly to face Jay’s mother who followed closely behind them, holding Jay’s sister by the arm.
“You’ve got a bloody nerve coming here!” Aunt Liz then dampened her voice, realising that she was attracting the attention of the other guests. She continued in an almost whisper “Look.. Anne.. I’m not going to make a scene.. but I think it is very provocative of you coming here given what you put poor Will through” Jay’s mother stopped in her tracks and looked up at Jay, not knowing what she should do or say.
“Just stop.. Stop!..” blurted out of Jay’s mouth instantaneously, surprising everyone including himself. Jay decided to continue anyway, even though Zu was tugging his hand to pacify him “..I invited Mum to Dad’s funeral.. We.. Jessica and I.. wanted Mum to be here.. and we are after all Dad’s kids!..” Jay could see a dark look of disapproval descending on Aunt Liz’s face “..I’m sorry Aunt Liz.. but we’ve got to bury the hatchet.. Dad wouldn’t want this.. and I know he would have wanted Mum to be here”
Aunt Liz’s focus switched from Jay back to Anne before she demonstratively sniffed, turned towards the house and walked inside.
“Thank you Jay..” Anne held Jay’s arm as she quietly added “..I see the old battle axe is still the same” Anne, Jay and Jessica smiled discretely amongst themselves as they too entered the house.
The interior of the house was much as Jay remembered it from when his grandparents had lived there. The brass hat and coat stand with its funny brolly-holder ring still had pride of place in the lobby, standing just behind the front door. The large and quite worn black stone tiles still covered the floor. Jay remembered how refreshingly cold they were to his feet when he took cover from the summer sun. Aunt Liz had painted the walls a rather too clinical white, replacing the green flowery wallpaper that used to hang precariously to the plasterwork. The living room was filled with mourners; standing, sitting, smiling, crying. Sun attempted a timid entrance through the low-slung cottage windows, occasionally giving way to more persistent grey clouds. Canapés lay strategically placed around the room, piled on doily-covered plates and stainless steel trays. Sherry glasses stood ready to drown people’s sorrows.
“Jay.. I’m just going to go to the loo.. Would you hold this for me please?” Anne passed Jay her sherry glass and wandered off in search of the toilet. Jay put the glass down on a table beside him. He mused over his parents’ use of the letter J in their children’s names and then became distracted by a salmon puff pastry from a nearby tray. He stood alone, intentionally, away from the numerous groups dotted around the room. Jessica and Zu occupied themselves by looking at the plethora of family photos hanging on the walls. Aunt Liz, who had been circulating around the room carrying a large bottle of sherry, noticed Jay’s isolation and seized her opportunity.
“More sherry James?”
“Err.. no thanks.. I’ve just finished one” replied Jay politely, lifting up an empty glass as evidence.
“Ok.. By the way James.. I’ve sorted things out at your dad’s house.. There wasn’t much, ..but I’ve made a list of everything he had.. I’ll send it to you and Jessica as soon as I can.. ok?”
“That’s fine.. thanks.. Thank you for doing all that”
“It was the least I could do James..” Aunt Liz reached into her handbag and pulled out a brown envelope “..I found this too.. I haven’t read it.. I saw that it was addressed to you so.. here you are” ” Aunt Liz handed Jay the envelope.
“Thank you.. I’ll err.. I think I’ll read it later” Jay carefully folded the envelope and placed it in his trouser pocket.
“Ok.. I’d better mingle James.. Let me know if you need anything.. won’t you?” Aunt Liz turned to a nearby group of people and offered them some sherry.
It was hot, almost stifling in the room due to the amount of people. Jay decided to get some fresh air. He walked through the kitchen and out into the back garden. His memories were immediately cast several years back to his childhood. He had had so many good memories here. The sun emerged triumphantly from behind a large cloud as raindrops hung desperately to leaves and blades of grass. Jay stood on the old path his grandfather had constructed out of broken flagstones. The stones held small puddles of rainwater which, in turn, reflected the sky and the trees around him. Memories of Jay’s grandparents were everywhere. The garden brimmed with colourful flowers, fruit trees, birds, insects, life. Jay pulled the envelope out of his trouser pocket and unfolded it carefully. He pulled out a sheet of paper and began reading.
Dear Jay,
I hope that when you read this letter it will bring a smile to your face and not tears. That is how I want you to remember me – for the happy times we had together, not the sad. If I could choose, I would wish that we could have much more time together. Nothing would make me happier than to see you fulfil your dreams, get married, have children and so on. It’s at times like this that you realise how much your children really mean to you.
I have so many happy memories of you when you were a child – a cute and cuddly toddler who I just wanted to squeeze all the time and smother with kisses. You turned into an adventurous, clever and understanding young man. I am so enormously proud of you Jay – words can hardly express how proud I am. I just wish I had used words more often, and told you these things clearly, unequivocally. You are a man of immense intellect, charm and love. I will always be proud of you, whatever you do and wherever life takes you.
I have been diagnosed with terminal cancer which has made time scarce. I am thankful for each new day that comes and I try to enjoy life as much as possible. I hope you will too. I hope also, that I have given you as much as you and Jessica have given me. I am truly grateful. But this is not ‘goodbye’ – this is merely ‘adieu’ until we meet again.
My beloved Jay, I will always be there for you - now and forever.
Dad
Jay put the letter carefully back in the envelope, placing it alongside his speech in his breast pocket. Music started to play in his head. He walked further down the path, towards the copse at the bottom of the garden. He began to recognise the music, a long guitar solo from ‘Separate Ways’, which his dad had played over and over again after his parents’ divorce. Jay remembered his dad fixing rickety old bicycles here in the garden. It was here that his dad had taught him how to saw wood for the first time, to build a tree house. His dad had fixed so many things here, from a rusty old moped to Jay’s first car. A collage of memories streamed into Jay’s head as the mus
ic played on, becoming increasingly more frantic. Jay came to a clearing, a place hidden away from the house, where an old chestnut tree stood. Jay and Jessica used to climb its ever-forgiving branches when they were children. Their dad had suspended an old car tyre on a rope which they used to swing on. The branch remained but the tyre and rope had gone, leaving only a groove as a reminder. Jay and his dad used to knock conkers down from the tree in the autumn, throwing sticks into the branches and hoping that they wouldn’t hit the greenhouse. They would then string the conkers up ready for battle in the evenings where his dad was always ready with good conkering advice.
Jay walked up to the tree as the music grew louder, more complicated, more intense. Jay looked for the place where his father’s name had been etched into the bark. Jay scoured the surface over and over again until he finally stumbled on his father’s work, lower down the trunk than he had remembered. The letters were hardly distinguishable. A ‘W’ had been carefully scratched out by a boy’s concentrated hand, then an ‘i’ and two ‘ll’s. Jay smiled as he touched the letters, running his fingers over each one individually, feeling the ups and downs, the gaps, the edges. Jay imagined his father walking towards him through a haze, with arms outstretched. Jay put his arms around the tree, feeling the warmth of his father’s embrace and holding tight. A rogue tear escaped his eye followed by another and then one more. Tears began to run down his face as he held on to the tree, clinging to the memories of his father. Jay felt a gentle touch from behind. It was Zu whispering softly “Let it go Jay.. let it go”
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