Free Spirits
If I can see them, why can’t you ?
Do I sense what shadows weave
And in some fashion, draw them close.
Have you seen the spirits?
It was January when death entered the house. It wasn’t obvious at first. It slithered through the sash windows, despite the heavy curtains, seeped through the floorboards and lingered in the darkest nooks and crannies of the old house. They didn’t recognise it for what it was that long freezing January but that is when it started. She noticed it first, the fine hairs on the back of her neck reacted as the air stirred but they piled more logs on the open fire and thought of Spring.
In February he confessed to an uncharacteristic lack of energy, a discomfort which he put down to the long winter, dark nights and his seventieth birthday which was fast approaching. He was a fit, active man, and he continued to fly his small plane whenever the weather permitted. He owned it with two other retired commercial pilots, and flying was his passion and his joy.
A shift in light, or air displaced,
As they slide into a space nearby.
Are they shades of times and past
Memories seeping from the very earth?
So March this year came mildly with a birthday party which warmed their house until the family and guests departed. Death slid closer. She felt it growing stronger; more insistent. So she tended her garden and gazed with wonder at the red kites soaring overhead, but now their calls were mournful, an intimation of things to come.
Faint wisps of fear surround me now;
I almost hear the wings beat as they come.
The sad and lonely chants will haunt my mind,
But you can calm these troubled thoughts.
It wasn’t until the Autumn when the chemotherapy had failed to halt its progress that they finally admitted the presence of death in their home. Between the visits to the hospital, when he was feeling able, they had spent the summer visiting their children and grandchildren. They knew each other so well that they didn’t discuss this, but this what she knew he wanted.
After what would be for him a final walk in the Chilterns, with the kites soaring on the thermals in the sunlight, they began to speak of their love and their life together and on their return they found their beautiful home, where they had brought up their children, once more a comfort.
His thoughts were all for her and the children and she provided the comfort and love for them all as she had always done. She wrapped her arms round him at night in the bed they had shared for forty five years and she warmed his body and calmed him with her touch. She promised she would be strengthened by their love and their life together, and she would cope. He talked of their wedding day, and his ambition to become a pilot, and how the red kites had soared above as they left the church.
It was November when he died in the same bed surrounded by his family. She thought they had more time but it was not to be. She comforted their children but felt her heart had broken, and she was frozen, bereft and so very alone.
It wasn’t until the Spring that the thaw began, but anger filled her nights. It was the new growth in her garden and the call of the kites which soothed her sorrow.
Above us now and free to fly at last,
The thermals lift them to the distant clouds.
They soar and glide, no ties to bind them
To the world they leave behind.
Free spirits
She remembered her promise and felt moved again by the beauty of the hawk and its effortless elegance. They owned the skies, as he had when he flew. He had truly not wanted to leave her, she knew that now, and he had stayed as long as he could to give her the strength to carry on.
He was truly a free spirit now and in the years to come the birds would always be a reminder of their life together.
Beautifully and painfully moving, Ara, and very positive – loved it.
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I have a feeling you may have already read this, Dolores, on the now defunct MyT, so extra kind of you to comment.
This story and one other has been included in the Creative Writing Group 2015 anthology and I suddenly realised I had neglected to add it here.
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Thank heavens for that, Ara! – thought it was strangely familiar…
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