Over the past two months, I’ve had the “pleasure” of watching a man waste away before my eyes. My mother’s long-term partner was diagnosed with terminal cancer in August and being the person I am, we invited him to our home to pass away his last weeks.
In the past I never got on with him because his chronic alcoholism frightened me and turned him into a spiteful monster. I never really got to know the real person until my mother nearly died during the Winter 2007 and he came and lived with us and helped a great deal. By then the alcohol took second stage, he couldn’t drink anymore. If he did he’d fall over and another fall would finish him.
We joked he had more lives than a bus load of black cats – surviving falls, broken bones, near-fatal blood loss (he used to go into hospital regularly to have his blood “topped up”) and having more surgery then I’ve had kebabs for dinner. Logic said he should have died a decade ago – but he fought on. Someone up there wanted him here – probably to teach me a life lesson, I imagine.
But in the last three years, the booze subsided and the kind, generous man appeared. He died in August, but they injected his heart with adrenalin and brought him back for one last encore. So we bought him here and we’ve been keeping him comfortable and entertained. I’ve been gambling on the horses via the Internet for him and generally having a fun time.
Last night, we cooked him a dinner but he couldn’t eat it – suddenly violent stomach pains emerged, and it was revealed that he hadn’t taken his medication to keep him regular for about four days. Doctors were called, ambulances arrived and he was taken away in the early hours in agony, but still conscious. I thought he’d pull off another recovery, I really did, but it wasn’t to be.
At about 8.10am we got a call from the hospital to come quickly, but he died shortly after the call. His bowels were blocked, possibly ruptured and an infection had poisoned his bloodstream. Well that’s what the doctor said – though the real cause of death will never be known because his terminal condition means that they will just put “advanced cancer” on the death certificate.
It has affected me because I wanted to get us all back. I didn’t want to leave anyone behind, but I feel I failed. We were only days away from his birthday (and we were going to make it special) and our intention was to keep him alive for Christmas. I couldn’t even get that right.
The worst part was I completely fudged the situation with Verity. Jim and Verity were firm friends, he made a real impression on her and vice verse. She knew he was ill and knew about his hospital visits. She understood. But this morning when I told her nanny and mum were coming back from the hospital she asked: “With Jim?” and I tried my best to explain about his illness and him not coming back and she replied:
“Jim doesn’t want to see me anymore.”
And that broke my heart in two…
Good night Jim, wherever you are. I hope your horses come in for you.
Category: Diary
I don’t write much about our political situation at the moment because it is so woeful and I am sick of all the poor, disabled and old Conservative voters whinging about how “they never expected that nice Mr Cameron to stop my benefits”. It’s like the oppressive reign of Thatcher never happened. The cretins.
Anyhoo, there’s a new voice who has come forward to basically express my thoughts on the current cuts and the same old Tory ethos steering our political system. (And let’s not forget those morally bankrupt Yellow Tories sitting next to them in the House of Commons). Surprisingly it is Paul O’Grady and he did it on his TV show last Friday. Go get them, Paul!
The death of Simon MacCorkindale was announced today which is a great shame. I have fond memories of “Manimal” and he was co-producer of Anthony Phillips’ “Tarka” album from the 1988. Here’s the opening from “Manimal” as a tribute.
So I am working on this collection of singy-songs, you see. The idea is that it will be entitled “The Luckiest Man in the World” and I am working hard to capture my essence in song form. Again, the idea is that when I am dead and gone, The MIssus can hand the songs on and say: “This is what he was really like”…or something.
This song is one for the kids. This is me being daddy. This is for all the dads, because we all want to be the big alpha dog and take care. We have this story that we tell, about Verity and Herbie walking through the deep dark woods looking at the animals and the fish in the lake and the birds in the trees and getting lost – and this lyric is an extension of that. The idea is that we shouldn’t be afraid of the deep dark woods because we can all lead each other out and if we distract ourselves with jokes and talking and playing, the darkness and the fear soon disappears.
In Starry Trees
We walk quickly
Hold my hand
Tightly as the moon
Waxes in the nightly
Sky high above us
Shining brightly
Hold on
Walking
Breathing
Talking
Wishing
Playing
Laughing
Praying
For this night
Will never end
Through the deep
Dark forest friends
Down to the river
Bank were walking
The river flows
As we’re still talking
In Starry Trees
We are walking
Hold my hand
And keep on talking
Cold night air
Upon our faces
Heading through
Unfamiliar places
Hold on
Walking
Breathing
Talking
Wishing
Playing
Laughing
Praying
Keep you both
So close to me
I’ll always be
Your daddy
To lead you through
The dark forest deep
Home to safety
To dream to sleep
Safely
To mum
And home
Direct download: CLICK HERE
And so the song “Stinkhorn” (working title) blossomed into this song.
It took me a little bit of time to work out a lyric and vocal approach but I got there in the spare half-hour I got to record this afternoon. Yes, the vocals are shit, but what can you do about it? If you listen hard, you might just hear a lorry thundering past StudioLock.
Direct download: CLICK HERE
So after my previous post, I put another 30 minutes to an hour’s work into it, adding some bass and a chorus and come up with the following. Not sure if it finished – toying with the idea of adding a lyric if I can write one to fit – though I kind of like it how it is.