Life and Times
Today’s story is not one that I’d planned to write just yet. But sometimes circumstances intervene and our thoughts are taken in a particular direction. Such is my situation today.
My scattered thoughts are drifting back to an event that I can see very clearly. As in most of my stories the action takes place in the flat that I’ve described before. It was daytime, but I see it as if it is happening now: The air raid siren has sounded, naturally we aren’t in the bomb shelter instead we are sitting in the living room surrounded by furniture and beds. Mum is holding LB, LS is clinging to Mum’s skirt, LLB is a small baby sleeping in the pram that Mum is rocking. I’m a big girl so I stand alone surveying the scene.
|Fuzzy image of a taped window from the outside.|
I can see the windows crossed with brown paper tape to prevent splintering of the glass in the event of a bomb blast. I can see the dark blue curtains that block the light from escaping at night. I can hear planes overhead. My insides are shaking. I’m shaking! I’m screaming: Pick him up! Pick him up! Pick him up!
Mum reaches into the pram grabs LLB into her arms just as a large piece of the ceiling fell into the pram!
That event has stayed with me as a defining moment. Our family survived. We beat the odds again. We beat the grim reaper.
This was good because LLB had much to give this world: his love of music and singing; his family; his children; his dry sense of humour. But I’m sure few know of the advances made to men’s hair styling due to his determined efforts with a hair dryer to arrange his own hair into ways it did not want to go.
Nevertheless, the grim reaper is a very determined fellow. He hates to be thwarted. He likes to win.
Yesterday he won. LLB suffered a massive heart attack and died. R.I.P. little, little brother. You will be missed.