by Ben Graff
Dad says the Hebrew prayers fluently, which impresses everyone, death and endings bringing him back to his beginnings.
It is a long, solemn walk to the grave. Theresa is briefly furious that there is a slight gap between the hole that has been dug for his final resting place and Helen’s grave, before Dad reminds her why this is, that the place she thought should be for Dave, is not, because one day it will be for her.
Theresa’s brother Lesley, who was one of eight, and his partner Bernie are in among the mourners. Wise and sympathetic, we hardly know them really, but we are all joined together in this.
“Back then I didn’t know he was gay,” she has told us. Lesley was a ballet dancer and then a tailor and they lived in a house that was painted pink. But it was illegal in those days and people did not say.
Bernie cannot manage the walking and is driven on a buggy. He tells Theresa he feels breathless. She tells Mum that this does not sound good. Two weeks later, he is buried in the London clay of a neighbouring cemetery.
It is the Jewish tradition to literally bury your dead. The rabbi throws bags of sacred books into Dave’s grave. We all appreciate the irony. Then, as he somehow moves a little further away from us and a little closer to Helen, the men pick up shovels and spoon the earth in over them, and over him.
‘To know him was to love him’ will be inscribed on his stone, which is similar to the inscription on Helen’s grave. We will all be mentioned by name.
“Was he a believer?” our cousin Simon asks of Theresa. Simon had once been jailed for something to do with a chemist’s that he used to own that no one ever elaborates on. He seems to have been rehabilitated these days.
“He said it was all fairy stories,” she says.
Simon nods. “That’s not nothing.”
Martin’s Journal –
Going Home – 2001
I think I have spent enough time looking back now and it is time to look forward again. Today is the last day of my treatment in this place and tomorrow I will be going home, to the house I once shared with Anna and now live in alone. There are things I am looking forward to: going to Rotary again, catching up on all the gossip, even if there will be more of it surrounding illnesses, and worse, than strictly speaking I care for. This is what happens when everybody gets old.
I want to go to the yacht club to drink a large gin and tonic whilst looking across the water to the ferries making their way in and out of the harbour. Water I have known since I was a boy, mainly in peacetime but also during war. I want to see Mike again and to stand with him in his house, which is on the site of my father’s old place. The Holmeses have a lot of history here and more will follow.
There are roads I want to drive on, walks I want to take, many others I have not seen for too long who I will be catching up with. I have not flown a kite for nearly seventy years and I have resolved to buy one and to launch it on Fishbourne beach, on the strip of stone and sand in front of Coastguard Cottage. Mary will be coming at the weekend; no creatures on earth could be closer than we are and it will be lovely to see her, Colin and the boys. Simple things really, but they are what I want.
I will tell everyone that I am rested and feel better, and in that moment it will be the truth. I sense somehow though that it might not really be the case, however confident my assertions. Partly it is how my body feels: tired, less responsive; partly it is just a sense that this really is another phase ahead of me, and a more uncertain one at that.
Looking back to when I was young has reminded me that I no longer am. What I could do then is not what I can do now, and the fact that I know more does not fully compensate and is somehow double-edged in any event. My time is finite.
I miss all of those who have gone and they all remain very dear to me, especially Anna and my mother of course, but also him in his way. I have enjoyed spending time with all of them again whilst writing this, even if he was just as difficult as when he was alive and all the more authentic for that. But in the end you have to live with the living, just as they must do the same after I have gone.
They say that all lives are remarkable, and I do not know whether or not this is true. But I have found mine full and rewarding, if not without its challenges and disappointments. More normality, I think.
I have no final advice or words of wisdom as I close these pages. I hope the reader has enjoyed my stories. I have enjoyed speaking with you, making this connection or re-acquaintance, depending on who you are.
My bag is packed and the room in which I have been sleeping has now been de-personalised again, all ready for its next inhabitant. I wish whoever it is well, but beyond that I can do no more.
Rotary, the yacht club, a gin and tonic, these are my final thoughts for this journal, because they speak to my tomorrow. Tomorrow is all any of us ever has and it transpires that I do have a piece of final advice after all. You will have to forgive an old man for not getting as quickly from A to B as once he did.
Simply, make the most of it.
Mary’s Journal – 2003-2004
My mother kept a journal for six months between 2003 and 2004. It was intended to focus on her teaching. However, it also captured a number of significant changes for the family, including one of her friends being quizzed (wrongly) as a murder suspect. The journal covers the period in which her first (and only at this point) grandchild Annabelle turned one. She would be six when her grandmother died. We have a photo of Annabelle sitting on her lap perhaps a year or so earlier, a link between the generations broken all too soon. Theresa is also in these pages, as is Flora, Katharine’s grandmother.
What follows is an abridged version of Mary’s journal.
* * *
3 September 2003
Term has begun. I intend to record key events of this teaching year. This may not give me something sensational to read on the train, but may help me remember exactly what the year was like. Time moves by so quickly and I thought this might prove a way of capturing some of what would otherwise be lost in a blur.
I was telling Ben the story about people always assuming that blind students will somehow be amazingly well behaved, as if their blindness in some way was part of a wider virtue. Of course, this is not the case. There is no link, the whole point is that people are people and all are different. Any assumptions that are based on someone acting or being a certain way because of this or any other condition always grate with me, even if they are generally born more from a lack of understanding and thought, rather than any real malevolence.
13 September
A full teaching week has now passed. The new AS Group has 10 students – my biggest ever group + not really feasible. Some may drop out, I suppose. They are a mixed bunch with a couple of really worrying conditions.
After I had explained that Shakespeare was censored in my day, Maria asked me if piano legs were covered then. I said I hoped I did not belong to the Victorian age, but when you are 17 the 60s obscenity trial of Lady Chatterley’s Lover must seem pretty remote. I always feel my age when this happens!
17 September
A long gap, due to the usual pressure of the early days of term – it does not get any easier. I am only in my fifties, but I don’t know what it is really. I feel I have less energy than I once did, need more recovery time. It happens to everyone I suppose, but it does weigh on my mind somewhat. I often get home exhausted & barely able to speak, aching all over. It’s a horrid feeling, a kind of numbness & it often seems to happen when the day is too long, too taxing. I know I won’t be able to do this indefinitely, yet I have a dread of giving up.
It is Annabelle’s birthday today & I am so happy about her. She is so new and so perfect. So much ahead for her, I think to my parents Anna and Martin who would have loved to have seen her, to be a part of this. I feel them close when I hold her.
21 September
Annabelle’s birthday lunch in Warwick Gates. Sh
e was so charming & had wonderful presents. It was good to see Ben & Matt & see everyone enjoying the gathering. Katharine’s parents + Grandma were there. Grandma determined to come in spite of falling last week & knocking out her front teeth. Mat & Kate helped cook & Kate was a trooper in cleaning, washing up etc. A very happy day. Ben & K very proud of their little daughter understandably. Got home v. tired & not looking forward to work.
22 September
Hard times. AS group v. silly indeed. So much for the average 16-17 yr old today being mature in comparison with previous generations.
Colin working hard too, I worry that he does too much. Every day there seems to be some drama or big meeting. He is doing a lot of miles at the moment. I worry that he doesn’t think enough about what happened to him. Not that I would want him to dwell on it of course, but he does need to look after his heart and I am not sure he always does. That is what you are for, he will say.
25 September
A level group v. civilised & rational compared to the As group in the afternoon. M is particularly annoying, as she interrupts with inane comments about things that bear no relation to the text. Her loud voice is v. dominant & it took all my patience not to say something sarcastic. The irony of it is that I had her for a tutorial first thing in the morning & stressed the need to avoid speaking out of turn about irrelevancies. I suppose the time lag was too long for her to remember. Felt really fed up when I got home, esp. as will have to do all the homework as K. is sick.
27 September
Surprise visit from Ben, Katharine & Annabelle as Ben needed help with his stats for his MBA. Colin was v. tired but did his best, he hates stats. Annabelle slightly poorly – another cold. Good to see them though.
I did a roast and in the afternoon we all curled up in the sitting room. It is still funny to think of your children visiting with their children. It doesn’t seem so long since, well, this is what time is and how it travels.
28 September
Arthritis so bad I had difficulty walking at all this am. A very bad night during which the pain stopped me sleeping, this cannot be right. Had a quiet day & felt better by the end. I’m dreading winter, as so much of this is caused by cold.
There is always the ideal of a country winter, brilliant snow and glowing log fires, but the reality is always different. I hate the journey to college in the dark and the bitterness in the air. My whole body seems to move more slowly, everything seems more difficult. Was it always like this? I think not. I have never liked winter, but I notice its challenges more than I once did.
2 October
As group particularly silly when asked to compose an alliterative couplet. Should not be surprised as students are horribly immature & love to shock. (W in particular.) Am delighted at prospect of weekend. On getting home find K had not been able to come to clean again. It feels the last straw after this grim week. Things which should not be getting on top of me somehow are.
5 October
Ben’s birthday. Great news – Annabelle started walking this week. Colin has some amazing pictures of her birthday via his digital camera/new computer. It is quite something – though I have yet to get to grips with the computer as he spends hours on it.
He is always like this with a new gadget. I just want to know how something works, am most interested by the outputs (in this case the pictures) but he really wants to understand, to master all of it, to test things out, his scientific personality coming to the fore as it so often does.
12 October
Yet another fine weekend. The autumn has been unparalled after an amazing summer and the apple trees in the orchard are all red and gold. It all looks so perfect, the air so fresh, this time of year always speaks to newness for me. All that thing of going back to school in autumn months, which I have of course done for most of my life.
Ben phoned in the evening. He seemed reasonably cheerful. I got the sense that things were going quite well for him at work, that he was enjoying what he was doing. I think they are both also getting more sleep now, which has to help.
20 October
Latest College drama: 2 students from the As English group have been suspended. It appears that A was attacked by W, who struck him with his cane while J prevented him from leaving. Hitting someone with a brain tumour over the head is an appalling thing & they had to be suspended. This is the 1st time that anyone from an Eng. Group has been suspended, so I was really shocked. The group is easier to teach when it’s a little smaller, but that is hardly the point.
Spoke to a BBC Radio 4 producer who wants to recruit students to keep an audio diary in the period leading up to A levels. Suggested, H, P and S. Have some concerns over D, but he is certainly a “different” character.
24-27 October
Embarked on trip to Dorset – Swanage – with Theresa. Long drive after collecting T who was v. pleased to see us. It did all feel like an adventure, but I always do a doubletake when we see her without Dave. She has coped admirably but it saddens me that she has to. Of course this is what happens, another reminder that time keeps moving.
We stayed at the Pines Hotel – a 3-star place with some somewhat depressing décor, but amazing sea views. I went for a walk on the sea wall with Colin before dinner, he was quiet, reflective. It is possible to know someone well and still not always know what they are thinking, I understand that now. Clocks change on Sat/Sun 25/26 but had some evening light tonight. Wonderful food at dinner – restaurant is excellent & looks out over the sea.
Amazing weather throughout stay. T. not able to walk far when we visited Corfe Castle, Lulworth Cove & Lulworth Castle. But she seemed to enjoy the expeditions, different places, doing things. Staff at hotel very friendly & helpful, whenever we stay anywhere I always think to Fawlty Towers, but fortunately it was nothing like that.
Colin took photos with new camera – he is v. thrilled with it. When we got home on Monday 27th (pm) after 7 hours of driving he went & printed a couple of his shots. I admire his energy levels, his enthusiasm. We were sorry to leave T. on her own, but she is v. independent & seems to cope. I think she very much has her own routine and was probably ready to get back into that.
28 October
An early phone call from Chris with shocking news that Liz’s Jeremy has died suddenly when they were out in his boat. I do not know how things like this appear from nowhere, devoid of any sense of premonition or warning. As they were alone she had to try & recover him after he suddenly fell into the water, tying a rope around him + trying to resuscitate him before calling the emergency services. He is larger than her and you can only imagine the shock and the horror as well as the physical challenge, but she did get him back on the deck and did all she could for him.
They had to assess whether she had murdered him, which obviously was not the case. To see all her hopes for the future disappear and then be suspected of murder is just too horrible to contemplate. How a world can change forever in a moment. I phoned later & she was calm & glad of the support of J’s friends with whom she was staying. I’ve always known that she has incredible strength and resilience and admire her for that.
Other than to be supportive and to pray for them both, there is nothing else that I can do. I think a little to other sudden deaths I have seen. Students at college particularly, all around us is more fragile and temporary than we know.
November–December
2nd half of term proved so tiring and I know I have neglected this journal as a result. The run up to Christmas: carol service, student crises, fallings out & so on left me worn down + hardly ready to embark on the prep work needed at home. Managed to get cards written, & Colin cleaned bedrooms over several weekends. We shopped together on Dec 12th, then we went to John Lewis in Solihull & then went to Warwick to Ben’s to babysit for Annabelle. She has a fairy dress with little wings to wear to a party. Felt shattered afterwards, but it was good to see them all.
/> Colin has been utterly distraught in the pre-Christmas period over his boss’ plan to swallow up his division & destroy everything he has worked for. I hate to see him like this & think boss is mad as everyone knows he’s the only one making money at present. Is this what it comes to, that we spend our lives building things only to see them undone and taken away? Everything still matters for what it was in the moment.
Christmas 2003
Though this is supposed to be about work & college, family events have been looming large. Theresa came on the 21st to stay for the whole period, collected by Matt and Kate. We had a few days to get ready for the mass influx on Boxing Day. Ben, Katharine, Annabelle, Matt & Kate stayed – it was lovely to have them but I now have to confess that I found all the cooking etc v. tiring indeed. I have had a recurrence of problems with my neck & cannot see the osteopath as he is off sick. Visits to another acupuncturist have proved useless.
But through all that, Christmas is still Christmas, the pattern not so different to years gone by. Katharine, Kate and Annabelle now with us, Dave no longer, but we do the same things. A Christmas Eve meal in country pub, Carols from Kings on the radio, Church in the morning, lunch then presents. It does change though, with little Annabelle now at the centre. So loved and protected, with many more Christmases ahead of her than I will have. I expect we will see more grandchildren over the next few years. I just sense that we might have rather a lot one day and I feel blessed by that, even if my own frailty scares me sometimes.
As well as looking forward, I inevitably think back to my own childhood Christmases with Anna, Martin and Mike, Hugh, Noreen, Janet and Richard. We certainly knew how to celebrate. I remember also Colin’s first Island Christmas and taking Ben and Matthew across the water when they were tiny. Neither remembers spending a Christmas on the Island, but I can remember it for them. It was not really so long ago.