ECHO 12/2/06

My Papa taken into hospital with pneumonia, apparently mild but it is putting his heart under strain – not long after I get this news I wander the house feeling lost and with a sense of dread – imagery of oxygen masks and desperate breathing, these kinds of horrors – I stop at the window at the top of the stairs, it seems an apt place to come to rest and I don’t know why at first, but I’m attracted to the raw wooden sill and frame, it comforts me – I watch cats and blackbirds shadow each other in the garden; or else eating windfall apples at the foot of the tree, their soft innards exposed to the drizzle and turning brown – funny that last evening, dining out with Pol’s parents, we talked at length about my fathers pride in his work and achievements, his history and the communities he grew about his restaurants in the UK – even though his passing seems unlikely today or in fact as a result of this sudden illness, I know that I have to deal with the inevitable and it saddens me – I take a long walk this evening out to the River Arrow, the drizzle still falling; a great sense of peace and warmth out in the meadows, of silence and reflection – the worry of the day lifts and a small, sharp pebble in my boot digs into my foot and keeps me in the present, stopping my mind from dwelling on possibilities, the scenarios of grief – symbolism was everywhere: dense, impenetrable trees dripping, almost sweating, in damp folds and soft mossy places; a shallow stagnant pond by the name of Grey Lady Lake hidden in a wood with dark twisted objects just beneath the water – for a brief time I have premonitions and anticipations, as if at every birdcall or rising of crows from their roosts, someone might try to get in touch with me with bad news –