Status: Completed
'Cause the Hardest Part of This is Leaving You.
Mama
I wake up.
Mom’s sitting on a chair beside the bed. She reaches for my hand. " How are you feeling? "
I think about this, scan my body for signs. " I’m not in pain. "
" That’s good. "
" I’m a bit tired. "
She nods. " Are you hungry? "
I want to be. For her. I want to ask for rice and prawns and treacle pudding, but I’d be lying.
" Is there anything I can get you, anything you want? "
Meet the baby. Finish school. Grow up. Travel the world.
" A cup of coffee? "
Mom looks pleased. " Anything else? A biscuit? "
" A pen and paper. "
She helps me sit up. She plumps pillows behind me, turns on the bedside light and passes me a notepad and pen from the shelf. Then she goes downstairs to put the kettle on.
Number eleven. A cup of tea.
Number twelve . . .
.INSTRUCTIONS FOR MOM.
I don’t want to go into a fridge at a Funeral home. I want you to keep me at home until the funeral. Please can someone sit with me in case I get lonely? I promise not to scare you.
I want to be buried in my long black jeans, my bat belt is a must. My Smashing Pumpkins shirt and my black zip up boots (all in the suitcase I packed for the holiday) I also want the bracelet Frank gave me.
Don't put ANY make-up on me. It looks stupid on dead people.
I do NOT want to be cremated. They have spooky curtains in crematoriums.
I want the service to be simple. Tell Lindsey to bring Lauren (if she's born by then). Invite Courtney and her husband Andy (if he wants to), also invite Braden from the Hospital (he might be busy).
I don’t want anyone who doesn’t know me saying anything about me. I want the people I love to get up and speak about me, and even if you cry it’ll be OK. I want you to say honest things. Say I was a monster if you like, say how I made you all run around after me. If you can think of anything good, say that too! Write it down first, because apparently people often forget what they mean to say at funerals.
Don’t under any circumstances read that poem by Auden. It’s been done to death (haha) and it’s too sad. Get someone to read Sonnet 12 by Shakespeare.
Music – ‘Blackbird’ by the Beatles. ‘Plainsong’ by the Cure. ‘Live Like You Were Dying’ by Tim McGraw. Lindsey helped me choose songs and she's got them on her iPod.
Afterwards go to a pub for lunch. I've got $270 in my savings account and I really want you to use it. Really- lunch is on me
Make sure you have ice-cream sundae, pudding, things that are really bad for you. Get drunk too if you like. Spend all the money.
And after that, when days have gone by, keep an eye out for me. I might write on the steam in the mirror when you’re having a shower, or play with the leaves on the apple tree when you’re out in the garden. I might slip into a dream.
Visit my grave when you can, but don’t kick yourself if you can’t, or if you move house and it’s suddenly too far away. You could bring a picnic and sit with me. I’d like that.
OK. That’s it.
I love you.
Gerard xxx
Mom’s sitting on a chair beside the bed. She reaches for my hand. " How are you feeling? "
I think about this, scan my body for signs. " I’m not in pain. "
" That’s good. "
" I’m a bit tired. "
She nods. " Are you hungry? "
I want to be. For her. I want to ask for rice and prawns and treacle pudding, but I’d be lying.
" Is there anything I can get you, anything you want? "
Meet the baby. Finish school. Grow up. Travel the world.
" A cup of coffee? "
Mom looks pleased. " Anything else? A biscuit? "
" A pen and paper. "
She helps me sit up. She plumps pillows behind me, turns on the bedside light and passes me a notepad and pen from the shelf. Then she goes downstairs to put the kettle on.
Number eleven. A cup of tea.
Number twelve . . .
.INSTRUCTIONS FOR MOM.
I don’t want to go into a fridge at a Funeral home. I want you to keep me at home until the funeral. Please can someone sit with me in case I get lonely? I promise not to scare you.
I want to be buried in my long black jeans, my bat belt is a must. My Smashing Pumpkins shirt and my black zip up boots (all in the suitcase I packed for the holiday) I also want the bracelet Frank gave me.
Don't put ANY make-up on me. It looks stupid on dead people.
I do NOT want to be cremated. They have spooky curtains in crematoriums.
I want the service to be simple. Tell Lindsey to bring Lauren (if she's born by then). Invite Courtney and her husband Andy (if he wants to), also invite Braden from the Hospital (he might be busy).
I don’t want anyone who doesn’t know me saying anything about me. I want the people I love to get up and speak about me, and even if you cry it’ll be OK. I want you to say honest things. Say I was a monster if you like, say how I made you all run around after me. If you can think of anything good, say that too! Write it down first, because apparently people often forget what they mean to say at funerals.
Don’t under any circumstances read that poem by Auden. It’s been done to death (haha) and it’s too sad. Get someone to read Sonnet 12 by Shakespeare.
Music – ‘Blackbird’ by the Beatles. ‘Plainsong’ by the Cure. ‘Live Like You Were Dying’ by Tim McGraw. Lindsey helped me choose songs and she's got them on her iPod.
Afterwards go to a pub for lunch. I've got $270 in my savings account and I really want you to use it. Really- lunch is on me
Make sure you have ice-cream sundae, pudding, things that are really bad for you. Get drunk too if you like. Spend all the money.
And after that, when days have gone by, keep an eye out for me. I might write on the steam in the mirror when you’re having a shower, or play with the leaves on the apple tree when you’re out in the garden. I might slip into a dream.
Visit my grave when you can, but don’t kick yourself if you can’t, or if you move house and it’s suddenly too far away. You could bring a picnic and sit with me. I’d like that.
OK. That’s it.
I love you.
Gerard xxx