Death and Survival

I can’t recall who took the photo. I do know that’s my youngest brother’s hand resting on Dad’s shoulder and that this is pretty much how I picture him in my last memories before he left. The words here are all Mom’s. I have left it as she wrote it with no paragraphs because that's how it all happened... all in one devastating rush.

 

 

On Sunday night, January 19, 1980, my son Greg came to dinner with his girl friend Debby. They announced they were engaged which wasn’t a big surprise. I had known Debby for some time and she was smart, beautiful and Irish. What is not to like? We were sorry that my husband wasn’t there. He had just left for a business trip to S. Africa. During dinner I suggested I get out the tarot cards and we could all ask questions. Debby was not in favor of this because she was a devout Catholic. I understood but suggested we ask simple questions and I would put them in a box and open them in a year. They agreed. I went first and asked if the stock market would go up. I wrote down the cards that came up. Mine was the House of God card. I really didn’t know much about them and the only description I had was a small piece of paper with very short explanations. Mine said ‘change‘. This fit because we were in the process of selling our house and moving away. I don’t remember what the others asked but I put them in a red Chinese cinnabar box and forgot about them. Monday night I was sitting up in bed reading. My thirteen year old was asleep and my oldest son Paul was on a date. About midnight I had a very strange phone call from an older man whose voice was familiar but I couldn’t place it. He said “Is Paul there?” My husband’s name was also Paul and, since the man was older, I assumed he meant my husband. I told him no and he hung up. A few minutes later my father-in-law called and wanted the number of my son Doug. He sounded very abrupt. Now I was alarmed. I waited a few minutes and called Doug. I said “What is going on?” He said he was on his way and would be there in 30 minutes. I said “DOUG! What is going on?” Why is it that men always think women are too delicate to handle difficult situations? Doug should have known I was one tough cookie. He said “Our Father died this morning in S. Africa.!” Words that are etched forever in my mind. I hung up the phone and ran in to wake Bill. He said I was screaming which I don’t remember. We called my son Greg who lived about 90 minutes away and he was on his way too. I also called my mother and sister even though it was about 2:00 in the morning. Then my son Paul walked in the door and I guess Bill jumped on him and told him the news. Doug arrived shortly and we waited for Greg. We all sat there each in our own misery. Paul went outside and yelled at the sky which helped us all even though it might have irritated the neighbors. I thought this is just too much to bear but I always have to find a positive side to things I said “We will be happy again someday.” It seemed impossible at that moment. Most people have experienced a death, and the days that followed were filled with the usual funeral arrangements and paper work, etc.  A week later my mother had come to stay with me for awhile. One morning she went out to the mail box to get the mail. When she didn’t return right away I looked out the window and could just see her feet behind the rockery where she was lying in the driveway. I went screaming out to her and she was lying there unconscious. I ran in the house, called an ambulance and brought a pillow out for head. Just before the ambulance arrived she got up and said she was fine. She refused to get in the ambulance so I gave the driver $5 and thanked him and he left. But I took her to the doctor and she was having serious heart problems which required an operation. I was told that there was no money for Bill and me and I was desperate, wondering how we were going to live. I had no marketable skills and had never had a serious job. One day I went out for a walk. I was totally suicidal. There was a small bit of insurance available and I decided that I would give it to Doug and his wife and they could raise Bill. I was crying from the anxiety, the fear, the grief and my inability to find a solution other than this. The first mile was about planning my demise. The second mile I had stopped crying but still wondering just how I would accomplish my mission. Somewhere during the third mile my mind began to clear a bit. By the fourth mile I decided that Bill and I would sit down and work out a survival plan. During the fifth mile I was almost smiling with hope and determination and confident that we could handle this. If I ever need a demonstration of the benefits of exercise, that was it. In time I discovered that there was enough for us to get by on. A year later I was at the library and found a large book on Tarot. The House of God card was not just change but about your whole life being overturned and crashing around you. I started using them whenever a crisis came up. Not that they always answer things but any port is a comfort in a storm. It is thirty three years later and, although we all miss Paul, we have had many happy days. Having only known sons, he would have been thrilled to meet his beautiful, brainy granddaughters and they would have been very impressed with him. He was tall, dark, handsome, elegant, brilliant, gentlemanly, dignified, and always spoke to women as though they were intelligent. A rare bird in every way.

 

-Jean Clarice Walsh