Unaware of the source of her children's illness, poor Agnes is left to suffer the consequences. O'Farrell writes, "There is a part of her that would like to wind up time, to gather it in like yarn. She would like to spin the wheel backwards, unmake the skein of Hamnet's death." But of course she realizes, "There will be no going back. No undoing what was laid out for them. The boy has gone and the husband will leave and she will stay and the pigs will need to be fed every day and time runs only one way."
Oh dear.
The loss of a son...
This must be a brutal read for you?
Horrible. It's a beautifully written book. But the death of the son, and the aftermath, is so very close to what I experienced, that I now can only read a few pages at a time before I am able to do nothing more than sob myself to sleep. I'll finish it, but it's very slow going for me right now. Compelling story, gorgeous language, interesting times. I wonder if you would have trouble reading it too. I think anyone who has lost a loved one would suffer during the descriptions of this family's grief.
Ohhh I'm so sorry. We write of our grief, and others read of our grief, nodding, knowing.
And sobbing themselves to sleep.
Oh I feel for you!!!
Yes, of course, I prefer to read of miracles and happy endings.
My unpublished fairy tale is that a brother who was shot down in Vietnam IS NOT DEAD and after 20 years, his sister finds him.... how does that work, forgiving a guy who played dead... maybe that's why I can't publish it. Except, she immediately forgives him, and blocks out the obvious (he was alive for 20 years and did not come back! He let her believe he was dead!).
My sister was missing for months, and we never got to see her body, so in my mind, she was in Witness Protection somewhere, and we would one day see her on TV when it was safe to reenter the world....
I cannot imagine my son dying in my arms.
That is a sorrow far too profound for anyone to have to live with, and yet you live on, and I for one am very grateful to have you soldier on in this world of woe. And I call upon Niko and Bruni to join me in my lonely dog walks, hoping that our lost loved ones really do live on, in spirit, and that they can multi-task. My sisters might (logically) watch over their daughters, not me, but then again, they may be empowered after being liberated from the physical body, and they may see what they need to see (Stay out of the bathroom! And don't watch me crying over you!)....
Poetry may be better than novels and movies for conveying the sorrow and loss you know too well.
Short bursts.
Who can endure the long slog of the novel....?
The loss!
But we go on.... and we hope to be reunited in a next life.
Believing it possible is the only way some people can cope.
Live on, Niko...! Not just in your mother's memory, but in another dimension, not far from us....
I may no longer be able to touch him, but he is very much here with me, and always will be. I miss his wisdom though. He was a great man, trapped in a medically weakened body. At least he got me thinking as he did before he left us. Ok enough of that I am sobbing.
Ohhhhh I am so sorry.
We hear it gets easier over time, or less difficult, but no, I find myself missing my sisters MORE and more with each year - not less. Rose Kennedy said it well. (She who lost so many loved ones.)
There is something about sobbing myself to sleep that is delicious.
You lost so many in such a short time, and most of them recently! Those losses are still very fresh, as is my loss of Niko. I can't believe it's been nearly a year and a half already. I think it may always feel like it was just yesterday.
It will always feel like yesterday - when it's your son, your own flesh and blood, yes.
Even when it's a father and three sisters - it's in the bones, in the blood.
As a mother of a son, I know that losing him would be exponentially worse than losing a thousand strangers or acquaintances.
Mothers know a bond like no other. Sever it too soon -
And we sob ourselves into the delirium of sleep. (Delicious? I can believe that.)
I'm so sorry - the senseless loss, brought on by medical malpractice -
Off now to walk the dogs and call upon the souls of whoever may be able to join me.
Unseen, but loved.
I call upon God, "Creator of all things visible and invisible," the force that through the green fuse drives the flower (Dylan Thomas), the energy that makes the electron spin...
{{ Hugs!!! }}