Nothing Happens And Then Everything Happens Ch 1.
Without Prejudice
Funeral Blues. W.H.Auden
Stop all the clocks, cut off the telephone,
Prevent the dog from barking with a juicy bone,
Silence the pianos and with muffled drum
Bring out the coffin, let the mourners come.
Let aeroplanes circle moaning overhead
Scribbling on the sky the message 'He is Dead'.
Put crepe bows round the white necks of the public doves,
Let the traffic policemen wear black cotton gloves.
He was my North, my South, my East and West,
My working week and my Sunday rest,
My noon, my midnight, my talk, my song;
I thought that love would last forever: I was wrong.
The stars are not wanted now; put out every one,
Pack up the moon and dismantle the sun,
Pour away the ocean and sweep up the wood;
For nothing now can ever come to any good.
The above poem is famous as being spoken as an eulogy in the movie, Four Weddings and a Funeral.
We have had a week with 2 major birthdays, a funeral and a tragic sudden death. The weather could not have been more vicious than it was this week. Black skies bringing rain, hail, a light dusting of snow In the Dandenongs. A bitter wind that caught at your ears, curled your fingers and left tears streaming down your face unnoticed until you tasted salt on your lips. Bitter.
The birthdays came on Monday. The 13th of August 2018. One for a lovely lady who I classify as a " bestie", Lovely Loretta. She's Indian, smart, deeply devout, a good soul with a genuine heart. You don't find too many Lorettas in this world, ( mores the pity). She has been there for me for the last 10 years I have known her and I for her.
My greeting to her was heartfelt but subdued. We had a funeral to go to the next day, my daughter, Yvette and I. A childhood friend of my girls. The eldest Son of my best friend Laurel.
I rang my Grand son wished him a happy birthday and he was vibrant, full of life, elated and on his way to work.
I wrestled two portable air conditioners into my car in between phone calls and hastened home as the winds started up, as did the rain. It's late winter and Melbourne ushers out the season in a
flurry of shitful weather. The daffodils might be out in all their yellow gloriousness and blossoms adorn the tress but Melbourne renowned for its " Four Seasons in One Day" will not let the cold mornings and freezing nights go just yet.
Next thing is we will be moaning about the heat.
Hence the two portable air cons. I want Yvette to have one in every room of her house. I remember well the first Summer I moved into the unit in her backyard. Her 7 boys were little then. And her house had no air con. It was mind boggling, but we had a paddling pool and a sprinkler hooked up over the washing line.
We took a lot of showers that year, but I didn't care. I pay the water, she pays the Internet, otherwise we have separate meters for gas and electricity. Only the water is a shared meter. We cover the meter with the old metal Melbourne Water Board cover, heavy and rusty looking, but it stops us driving over the thing. Well, me mainly.
We were as nervous as cats about the funeral. We'd been crying on and off since we found out. Simon was just turned 47. He had been a great kid, his Dad, Alan,shot through when Simon was 10. Left and never came back. Just disappeared to his 4 children. Simon went looking for him once. Units in Richmond. He rang his Dad and told him he was downstairs but the Dad would not come down to see his Son.
Sad.
When Simon was about 18 he started hanging around with a friend called Lee. Lee was dabbling in heroin. So did Simon. Lee died at 18, Simon became an addict.
He was 18 months clean and sober at a rehab in Wangaratta, up the country. He was happy there, had friends, good friends. Graduated from rehab. My friend thought he might be a bit lonely and isolated up there, so the counsellors and she came to a decision to have him live in a flat in St Kilda. The counsellors from the rehab made the arrangements. Simon had to wait 6 months but he loved having his own flat.
Laure was a bit concerned that the location, Acland Street, St Kilda. was going to be risky for a former heroin addict but Simon was confident he would be fine, he had the monkey off his back and was talking about starting up his Carpet Cleaning business again. Life was beautiful. He had his beloved Richmond Football Club to follow, he was thrilled with his new iPhone and never turned it off. His photo on face book shows him in his first " selfie" a picture of health and smiling with delight, his flat in the background.
10 days before the funeral I received a text from Laure just said the letter " A."
I laughed and texted her back,
" Hey, did you just make a mistake and send me a text that said A ? "
Twenty minutes later she sent me a lengthy text.
Simon had passed away, no details yet,
I rang her.
He had been going to the Richmond Collingwood game on the Saturday. Meeting up with. Friend. So Laure texted him on the Friday night, a simple enjoy the game, Son.
No reply. She rang, the phone was turned off. The phone he never turned off.
She must have rang and left a thousand messages, no reply.
Funeral Blues. W.H.Auden
Stop all the clocks, cut off the telephone,
Prevent the dog from barking with a juicy bone,
Silence the pianos and with muffled drum
Bring out the coffin, let the mourners come.
Let aeroplanes circle moaning overhead
Scribbling on the sky the message 'He is Dead'.
Put crepe bows round the white necks of the public doves,
Let the traffic policemen wear black cotton gloves.
He was my North, my South, my East and West,
My working week and my Sunday rest,
My noon, my midnight, my talk, my song;
I thought that love would last forever: I was wrong.
The stars are not wanted now; put out every one,
Pack up the moon and dismantle the sun,
Pour away the ocean and sweep up the wood;
For nothing now can ever come to any good.
The above poem is famous as being spoken as an eulogy in the movie, Four Weddings and a Funeral.
We have had a week with 2 major birthdays, a funeral and a tragic sudden death. The weather could not have been more vicious than it was this week. Black skies bringing rain, hail, a light dusting of snow In the Dandenongs. A bitter wind that caught at your ears, curled your fingers and left tears streaming down your face unnoticed until you tasted salt on your lips. Bitter.
The birthdays came on Monday. The 13th of August 2018. One for a lovely lady who I classify as a " bestie", Lovely Loretta. She's Indian, smart, deeply devout, a good soul with a genuine heart. You don't find too many Lorettas in this world, ( mores the pity). She has been there for me for the last 10 years I have known her and I for her.
My greeting to her was heartfelt but subdued. We had a funeral to go to the next day, my daughter, Yvette and I. A childhood friend of my girls. The eldest Son of my best friend Laurel.
I rang my Grand son wished him a happy birthday and he was vibrant, full of life, elated and on his way to work.
I wrestled two portable air conditioners into my car in between phone calls and hastened home as the winds started up, as did the rain. It's late winter and Melbourne ushers out the season in a
flurry of shitful weather. The daffodils might be out in all their yellow gloriousness and blossoms adorn the tress but Melbourne renowned for its " Four Seasons in One Day" will not let the cold mornings and freezing nights go just yet.
Next thing is we will be moaning about the heat.
Hence the two portable air cons. I want Yvette to have one in every room of her house. I remember well the first Summer I moved into the unit in her backyard. Her 7 boys were little then. And her house had no air con. It was mind boggling, but we had a paddling pool and a sprinkler hooked up over the washing line.
We took a lot of showers that year, but I didn't care. I pay the water, she pays the Internet, otherwise we have separate meters for gas and electricity. Only the water is a shared meter. We cover the meter with the old metal Melbourne Water Board cover, heavy and rusty looking, but it stops us driving over the thing. Well, me mainly.
We were as nervous as cats about the funeral. We'd been crying on and off since we found out. Simon was just turned 47. He had been a great kid, his Dad, Alan,shot through when Simon was 10. Left and never came back. Just disappeared to his 4 children. Simon went looking for him once. Units in Richmond. He rang his Dad and told him he was downstairs but the Dad would not come down to see his Son.
Sad.
When Simon was about 18 he started hanging around with a friend called Lee. Lee was dabbling in heroin. So did Simon. Lee died at 18, Simon became an addict.
He was 18 months clean and sober at a rehab in Wangaratta, up the country. He was happy there, had friends, good friends. Graduated from rehab. My friend thought he might be a bit lonely and isolated up there, so the counsellors and she came to a decision to have him live in a flat in St Kilda. The counsellors from the rehab made the arrangements. Simon had to wait 6 months but he loved having his own flat.
Laure was a bit concerned that the location, Acland Street, St Kilda. was going to be risky for a former heroin addict but Simon was confident he would be fine, he had the monkey off his back and was talking about starting up his Carpet Cleaning business again. Life was beautiful. He had his beloved Richmond Football Club to follow, he was thrilled with his new iPhone and never turned it off. His photo on face book shows him in his first " selfie" a picture of health and smiling with delight, his flat in the background.
10 days before the funeral I received a text from Laure just said the letter " A."
I laughed and texted her back,
" Hey, did you just make a mistake and send me a text that said A ? "
Twenty minutes later she sent me a lengthy text.
Simon had passed away, no details yet,
I rang her.
He had been going to the Richmond Collingwood game on the Saturday. Meeting up with. Friend. So Laure texted him on the Friday night, a simple enjoy the game, Son.
No reply. She rang, the phone was turned off. The phone he never turned off.
She must have rang and left a thousand messages, no reply.
