A bold statement I know. But I will always remember Christmas Day 2015. Magucha was in hospital and, obviously, very, very ill. As you can see from the photo taken on that day, the valiant smile, the hollow eyes, and the “look” needed no words. They said it all.
I don’t think I am being melodramatic when I say that I think she knew the end was not far away. That the “uninvited visitor” would soon arrive to accompany her on her final journey to that “undiscovered country”. She always showed great courage and was never afraid of anything, least of all death.
Even though all this happened four years ago being with her in hospital every day until she died is something I will never forget and is a time I will always treasure. It was a very special time for me.
Again I don’t think I will be revealing anything that others would not have done in similar circumstances when I say that I used to get to the Hospital at about 10.00 every morning and, when she was in the “high care” ward (she was in a single bed room), not in Intensive Care, one of the first things she wanted me to do was to help her shower – even though the nurses were there to do just that. That was my job, you see! She was very weak and needed assistance to get out of bed and into the shower where she would sit in the plastic chair provided while I helped her wash (later, because she became so weak, it was only a “bed wash”). And I always brought in a clean nightie for her to change into. Sometimes she also wanted me to feed her, which I found very touching.
I loved her you see. What else could I do?
Then sometimes, if she was in the mood, I would read to her – one of her favourite stories was “My family and other animals”, by Gerald Durrell. But that never lasted very long – she used to get very tired and fall into a quiet sleep.
As some would know I am always moved by poetry – by the poet’s choice of words, their cadence and rhyming. In my mind I’ve always associated this poem with Magucha because of the difficulty I had in convincing her to leave Portugal and marry me. Our cultures were quite different and I spoke no Portuguese (apart from some swear words she taught me!) and while she was more or less fluent in English her use of words was unique (some she made up to “fit” what she wanted to say) and her odd pronunciation (which I’m sure was at times quite deliberate) was very much what became widely known as “Magucha speak”! Once married we both had a deal of adjusting to do but after a while things evened out and in the end I think we learned to work well together.
This is for her.
The Strange Music
“Other loves may sink and settle, other loves may
loose and slack,
But I wander like a minstrel with a harp upon
his back,
Though the harp be on my bosom, though I finger
and I fret,
Still, my hope is all before me: for I cannot play it
yet.
In your strings is hid a music that no hand hath e’er
let fall,
In your soul is sealed a pleasure that you have not
known at all;
Pleasure subtle as your spirit, strange and slender as
your frame,
Fiercer than the pain that folds you, softer than
your sorrow’s name.
Not as mine, my soul’s anointed, not as mine the
rude and the light
Easy mirth of many faces, swaggering pride of song
and fight;
Something stranger, something sweeter, something
waiting you afar,
Secret as your stricken senses, magic as your sorrows
are.
But on this, God’s harp supernal, stretched but to
be stricken once,
Hoary time is a beginner, Life a bungler, Death a
dunce.
But I will not fear to match them – no, by God, I
will not fear,
I will learn you, I will play you and the stars stand
still to hear.”
G. K. Chesterton
That last verse has special meaning for me:-
“But on this, God’s harp supernal, stretched but to
be stricken once,
Hoary time is a beginner, Life a bungler, Death a
dunce.
But I will not fear to match them – no, by God, I
will not fear,
I will learn you, I will play you and the stars stand
still to hear.”
I just hope the stars heard.
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