That scene was heartbreaking, and your poem even more so. An abrupt ending is perfect, because that's how things end in real life - no warning, just there and then not there any more. I knew a gentleman who quietly died while watching a televised football match (the American version) with his son. His heart was dying, and he refused to change anything, no thank you to exercise, no thanks, I'll eat whatever I wish. He lived in a way that made him happy, and when his heart finally quit he was lucky enough just to fall asleep with no pain, no goodbyes... just there and then suddenly gone. Such deaths are probably good for the dying, but possibly more upsetting for those left behind. His son consoled himself by remembering that his father died doing something he loved.
I'm used to the hot flashes now... getting older isn't so bad. It sure beats the teen years! Plus, as my mother recently reminded me, I now qualify for senior discounts...
Watching that snippet made me cry, too, but I hope you feel better soon.
As I mentioned to Nick I got myself into one of those tired and emotional moods. Ali had - for some unknown reason - put that clip on and, as in the nature of memories, it put me right back into watching it on TV when it aired (before we moved to France). Emmerdale (originally Emmerdale Farm) is a British soap opera, obviously set in a close-knit farming community. The woman singing is quite a famous opera singer who made a cameo. If I remember correctly they were having some village fete or something, which is why they're all in fancy dress - which sort of makes it even more poignant. The music played a big part in making it a weeper!
I was just thinking that Len Reynolds must have died peacefully, based on his position at the table and the fact that he apparently just dropped out while his friend was fetching a pint. Such deaths are probably extra sad for the survivors, since they don't get a chance to say goodbye - or indeed to say "I love you" one last time - but I think that would be how I'd like to go, unexpected and quietly and painlessly. But it does make one realize that one should never leave important matters undone or unsaid, lest the chance be lost forever. The part that got to me was when the men in the audience started to realize what was up and one by one removed their hats to show respect. Watching the ambulance leave was tough, too... it reminded me of last August, when the funeral home van came to take away my fil's body for cremation... It's so hard to realize that a dead body is empty, that the person who was living within is gone forever... unless one believes in reincarnation... or heaven, I suppose, but my fil didn't believe, nor do I... Shortly after his wife died, some dimwit visited with my fil and told him that she's in a "better place" now - he completely lost it, and I can't blame him. I've learned over the years that the only proper thing that can be said is, "I'm sorry for your loss." It may sound trite, but anything more is far too likely to ignite anger or pain.
I'm sorry, I'm not helping, am I? I do know that when I first hit menopause, I was shattered, my emotions were all over the place. My mother told me that when it hit her, she would just start bawling for no reason at all, and would hide from us kids so we wouldn't know she was upset. The hormones do eventually settle down and the emotions level out. Somebody ought to write a book to warn women about everything that's waiting for us as we age, so we won't be as shocked by the changes. For me, just knowing that everything's going as it should is a big comfort...
You do help, actually! So don't stop on my account! My specialist recently changed my hormone dosage (lowered), and administration form, which is now a gel (I used to have pills, which are easy), and I still have little idea what a single dose from the plunger thing is supposed to be. The instructions just say press it down for a single dose, except it doesn't say how much to press it down or what a single dose actually looks like. Perhaps it'll sort itself out at some point.
Yes, I have thought that would be a nice way to go. Just sort of fall asleep and not wake up again. To be honest I think that might be better for those left behind - I mean better than a slow protracted affair. And it is difficult to know what to say. I think your suggestion is a sensible one. So long as one doesn't put one's foot in it, as it were, simple condolences will usually be received in the spirit they're intended.
I agree with you about making sure one has put all one's affairs in order, like not leaving things unsaid and so on. This is one of the aspects that changes Evelyn's mind in my story - the fact she can choose a date, I mean. Means she can give herself a sort of timetable.
I'm still a little stuck on the next chapter. I know what's going to happen, it's just the writing of it that's turning into an issue. I'm sure I'll get there.
I can understand that you're stuck. You're essentially killing yourself off - I'm not sure I could do it, at least not easily. I have trouble enough killing off imaginary people.
I hope your body gets used to the new dosage soon. I think topical medicines are often measured in fractions of inches in the US. It's so weird how most medications in the States are measured in milligrams or millilitres, but there's always a few that fall back to teaspoons (e.g., cough syrup) and inches (for the aforementioned topical meds). Perhaps your doctor can give you clearer instructions?
I lucked out with the menopausal symptoms. They were relatively mild, more annoying than anything else, so I just went cold turkey. The various drugs on offer all had side effects, ranging from mildly annoying to crazy scary, so I decided to do without. Now that my eggs are all gone, my body's more or less behaving itself. The biggest issue for me has been osteopenia, but my doctor's not too worried because she said I'm within normal limits for my age. She's just going to keep an eye on my bone density to make sure it doesn't get any worse.
But even so, I think I'm going to like being a senior citizen!
Yes, dosages are silly sometimes. That’s the positive thing about a pill of course. I’m due to have a range of scans and stuff in the autumn, so at least I have a doctor who takes these things seriously… And I don’t really mind being poked and prodded, so long as there’s nothing wrong with me in the end and they don’t keep stabbing me with needles…
This poem stayed with me. There's a kind of nostalgia woven together with regret and bitterness, and the context makes it all feel deeply believable and raw. Thank you for writing this. I'll be coming back to read it again.
your poetry is always a different place.
Thank you! This was one of my tired and emotionals. Still, my Fault Lines collection is coming along nicely so far.
That scene was heartbreaking, and your poem even more so. An abrupt ending is perfect, because that's how things end in real life - no warning, just there and then not there any more. I knew a gentleman who quietly died while watching a televised football match (the American version) with his son. His heart was dying, and he refused to change anything, no thank you to exercise, no thanks, I'll eat whatever I wish. He lived in a way that made him happy, and when his heart finally quit he was lucky enough just to fall asleep with no pain, no goodbyes... just there and then suddenly gone. Such deaths are probably good for the dying, but possibly more upsetting for those left behind. His son consoled himself by remembering that his father died doing something he loved.
I'm used to the hot flashes now... getting older isn't so bad. It sure beats the teen years! Plus, as my mother recently reminded me, I now qualify for senior discounts...
Watching that snippet made me cry, too, but I hope you feel better soon.
As I mentioned to Nick I got myself into one of those tired and emotional moods. Ali had - for some unknown reason - put that clip on and, as in the nature of memories, it put me right back into watching it on TV when it aired (before we moved to France). Emmerdale (originally Emmerdale Farm) is a British soap opera, obviously set in a close-knit farming community. The woman singing is quite a famous opera singer who made a cameo. If I remember correctly they were having some village fete or something, which is why they're all in fancy dress - which sort of makes it even more poignant. The music played a big part in making it a weeper!
I was just thinking that Len Reynolds must have died peacefully, based on his position at the table and the fact that he apparently just dropped out while his friend was fetching a pint. Such deaths are probably extra sad for the survivors, since they don't get a chance to say goodbye - or indeed to say "I love you" one last time - but I think that would be how I'd like to go, unexpected and quietly and painlessly. But it does make one realize that one should never leave important matters undone or unsaid, lest the chance be lost forever. The part that got to me was when the men in the audience started to realize what was up and one by one removed their hats to show respect. Watching the ambulance leave was tough, too... it reminded me of last August, when the funeral home van came to take away my fil's body for cremation... It's so hard to realize that a dead body is empty, that the person who was living within is gone forever... unless one believes in reincarnation... or heaven, I suppose, but my fil didn't believe, nor do I... Shortly after his wife died, some dimwit visited with my fil and told him that she's in a "better place" now - he completely lost it, and I can't blame him. I've learned over the years that the only proper thing that can be said is, "I'm sorry for your loss." It may sound trite, but anything more is far too likely to ignite anger or pain.
I'm sorry, I'm not helping, am I? I do know that when I first hit menopause, I was shattered, my emotions were all over the place. My mother told me that when it hit her, she would just start bawling for no reason at all, and would hide from us kids so we wouldn't know she was upset. The hormones do eventually settle down and the emotions level out. Somebody ought to write a book to warn women about everything that's waiting for us as we age, so we won't be as shocked by the changes. For me, just knowing that everything's going as it should is a big comfort...
You do help, actually! So don't stop on my account! My specialist recently changed my hormone dosage (lowered), and administration form, which is now a gel (I used to have pills, which are easy), and I still have little idea what a single dose from the plunger thing is supposed to be. The instructions just say press it down for a single dose, except it doesn't say how much to press it down or what a single dose actually looks like. Perhaps it'll sort itself out at some point.
Yes, I have thought that would be a nice way to go. Just sort of fall asleep and not wake up again. To be honest I think that might be better for those left behind - I mean better than a slow protracted affair. And it is difficult to know what to say. I think your suggestion is a sensible one. So long as one doesn't put one's foot in it, as it were, simple condolences will usually be received in the spirit they're intended.
I agree with you about making sure one has put all one's affairs in order, like not leaving things unsaid and so on. This is one of the aspects that changes Evelyn's mind in my story - the fact she can choose a date, I mean. Means she can give herself a sort of timetable.
I'm still a little stuck on the next chapter. I know what's going to happen, it's just the writing of it that's turning into an issue. I'm sure I'll get there.
I can understand that you're stuck. You're essentially killing yourself off - I'm not sure I could do it, at least not easily. I have trouble enough killing off imaginary people.
I hope your body gets used to the new dosage soon. I think topical medicines are often measured in fractions of inches in the US. It's so weird how most medications in the States are measured in milligrams or millilitres, but there's always a few that fall back to teaspoons (e.g., cough syrup) and inches (for the aforementioned topical meds). Perhaps your doctor can give you clearer instructions?
I lucked out with the menopausal symptoms. They were relatively mild, more annoying than anything else, so I just went cold turkey. The various drugs on offer all had side effects, ranging from mildly annoying to crazy scary, so I decided to do without. Now that my eggs are all gone, my body's more or less behaving itself. The biggest issue for me has been osteopenia, but my doctor's not too worried because she said I'm within normal limits for my age. She's just going to keep an eye on my bone density to make sure it doesn't get any worse.
But even so, I think I'm going to like being a senior citizen!
Yes, dosages are silly sometimes. That’s the positive thing about a pill of course. I’m due to have a range of scans and stuff in the autumn, so at least I have a doctor who takes these things seriously… And I don’t really mind being poked and prodded, so long as there’s nothing wrong with me in the end and they don’t keep stabbing me with needles…
Here's the gel instructions, Evie. You press the plunger fully down the prescribed number of times. Note the skin application precautions. Hope your investigations come good. Hope your brain climbs out of the latest mental cave into daylight. Hope you manage a swim. https://www.nhs.uk/medicines/hormone-replacement-therapy-hrt/oestrogen-tablets-patches-gel-and-spray/how-and-when-to-take-or-use-oestrogen-tablets-patches-gel-and-spray/
This poem stayed with me. There's a kind of nostalgia woven together with regret and bitterness, and the context makes it all feel deeply believable and raw. Thank you for writing this. I'll be coming back to read it again.
Thank you so much Jeanne! Yours is the comment I love the most! Thank you so much for saying you'll come back to it. That means the world to me.
A lot of my poetry is similar to this one - here's my index file: https://inadifferentplace.substack.com/p/alters-index?r=2s9hod which gives you all the links. My entire first collection is on there.