been missing
I know you’re still there, somewhere.
A random television channel flicked over to Jimmy Nail singing a ditty about the Big River. It made me think of the shipyards, the cavernous space in between the banks, and of the challenges you presented to it.
I made you drive over that river so many times; for the times we forgot train tickets, for the times we ferried Earls of Bensham and Warrior Monks of Fawdon to their respective homes; to heal the bitten ears, to chase after dreadlocked Swedes, and to get drunk on a one pound box of flumps, before your vocal dispensation of volumes of advice to all and sundry, whether they wanted to hear or not.
They’re all quick to sing your praises. But you were only human. Human in such a flimsy sense; you made life seem infallible, when in fact the complete opposite were true. You’d be late to every occasion, armed with a batallion of excuses, mainly to do with crashing cars, drinking too much, or a dalliance with some caddish man…all of which you were fairly adept at. For every challenge presented in life, there would be some sort of counteractance from your corner, it would never be left to lie.
For this reason you were the first person anyone could hear when they entered the room; and the strains of your voice would be the last to leave anyone’s minds. If there were two sides of opposition across that eternal river, you’d sit down with both sides and build bridges, channel through the difficulties and show people that understanding and respect were more worthful than the virtues of making one’s own point and garnering attention. For this determination you earned limitless respect, even from the most dubious of corners.
In my indicisiveness, you made me promise something silently to you, in the quiet folds of our stolen time. You made me promise that one day, I had to get around to letting go, and to shout something from the top of the hills that should have been said a long time ago. Yet still I cannot find the words to shape this feeling, the appropriate time, the appropriate person, or the appropriate voice with which to scream out….
I am unfortunately not blessed with your need for intimate explanation, I would much rather keep my cards close to me, so that their contents can only be shown to a select few, if the need arises. You of all people understood this; yet we were still all scared that your final act of indignity would be to tell everyone exactly how they felt about each other. There was no need. We sat together to pay our respects. We shared tears, tissues and togetherness. You taught us all how much it means to care for someone else. We all cared then, and we all still care now.
The river of information flows on; from your little home amongst fields of wet cabbages, to your star in the sky, back down to this small corner in the south. All absolutely miles away from each other. Yet you have taught that respect and love for a fellow human can transcend all knowledge of space, by the sheer fact of its existence.
Wherever you are right now, I care.
Please don’t ever forget that.
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