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Authors: Alice Ann Galloway
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fact. “So said someone or other. I don’t recall. But Beth, this card is about transformation, about the end of one era and the rebirth of something new. Strangely there is no birth card in Tarot but the white rose that the Devil is holding, see?” He shows me the card more closely. “That signifies birth, transformation. You will embark on a new journey free of your old constraints and bindings.”
He pauses and holds my gaze for a moment. I try to keep my poker face on and fail miserably, I bet.
“But back to the Clairvoyance, Beth. Using these – powers – it is draining. You need to look after yourself. Protect yourself from bad spirits. Do you understand?”
Hot tears prick my eyes. I blink and look away. Outside the garden looks beautiful, in a rainy kind of way. A bird lands on the feeder, which is packed full of nuts. He eats; every now and then flicking rain water off his wings. A black cat watches from the neighbour’s conservatory roof.
“Another coffee? Or a biscuit?” David offers, rising from his chair.
Suddenly I feel brave, well either brave or just ridiculously scared.
“Can I tell you something crazy?” I ask.
He nods and sits back down. So I tell him. Pretty much everything, actually.
CHAPTER TWELVE
Joel
We have to cancel the Chile gig because the band agrees with me; I can’t leave the country while mom is so ill. Three days later and there is no change in her condition.
We cancel Rio de Janiero too. The crew has already gone ahead so, with our blessing, they treat it like a holiday, tweeting photos of the beaches and clubs and meeting the fans, giving out autographed postcards by way of an apology. Two more days pass and we are reminded that next week we are due to be in Los Angeles at a big awards ceremony. Our new album is nominated. I tell my manager I will think about it but that it’s probably not possible.
Every day, my two brothers and I visit mom. Every day we lose her a little more. She can’t keep food down now; they have stopped feeding her anything but morphine. She looks gray and frail. I feel a crushing sense of loss, she looks like she’s here but she is getting further away each day. I sit by the bed and sing softly. I sing all her favourite songs. She holds my hand and she asks for my dad, forgetting that he died ten years ago.
Selfishly, I will her to live.
She dies as she would have wished to, surrounded by family; enveloped by love and tears and howls of pain. We kiss her forehead. We thank the medical staff. We pray together. My aunt phones to tell friends and family that mom is finally at peace. As I prepare to leave the hospital, I sit by her one final time. I put my head in my hands, rubbing my forehead as if I can force my mind to make this make sense.
I am a grown man. Yet losing my mom transports me. I am a lost child, no mom and no dad. I am scared of life without her, scared of being alone. She has always been my strength, my support.
Suddenly, through my eyelids and on my skin, I feel sunshine fill the room. The brightest light. I open my eyes. The sun is shining on her face, giving an illusion of warmth and life. I get up. It is time to go. I blow her a sweet kiss then I walk away and I don’t look back. A nurse shows me where the staff exit is and I jump into a waiting taxi.
I give the driver my address. Then I pop another two sedatives to keep me even. Georgia is waiting for me at home and Harry, oh Harry. I am struck by the thought that he will never know his Gramma any better than he does today. His memories will fade to nothing. At this thought, the tears come. Every memory of her life, her journey, plays through my mind’s eye. What was it all for, my fame and fortune, just to lose her now? Why must we love people so much that this amount of hurt is possible? I cry like a baby all the way home and all evening.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
“It’s called Empathic Communication,
He pauses and holds my gaze for a moment. I try to keep my poker face on and fail miserably, I bet.
“But back to the Clairvoyance, Beth. Using these – powers – it is draining. You need to look after yourself. Protect yourself from bad spirits. Do you understand?”
Hot tears prick my eyes. I blink and look away. Outside the garden looks beautiful, in a rainy kind of way. A bird lands on the feeder, which is packed full of nuts. He eats; every now and then flicking rain water off his wings. A black cat watches from the neighbour’s conservatory roof.
“Another coffee? Or a biscuit?” David offers, rising from his chair.
Suddenly I feel brave, well either brave or just ridiculously scared.
“Can I tell you something crazy?” I ask.
He nods and sits back down. So I tell him. Pretty much everything, actually.
CHAPTER TWELVE
Joel
We have to cancel the Chile gig because the band agrees with me; I can’t leave the country while mom is so ill. Three days later and there is no change in her condition.
We cancel Rio de Janiero too. The crew has already gone ahead so, with our blessing, they treat it like a holiday, tweeting photos of the beaches and clubs and meeting the fans, giving out autographed postcards by way of an apology. Two more days pass and we are reminded that next week we are due to be in Los Angeles at a big awards ceremony. Our new album is nominated. I tell my manager I will think about it but that it’s probably not possible.
Every day, my two brothers and I visit mom. Every day we lose her a little more. She can’t keep food down now; they have stopped feeding her anything but morphine. She looks gray and frail. I feel a crushing sense of loss, she looks like she’s here but she is getting further away each day. I sit by the bed and sing softly. I sing all her favourite songs. She holds my hand and she asks for my dad, forgetting that he died ten years ago.
Selfishly, I will her to live.
She dies as she would have wished to, surrounded by family; enveloped by love and tears and howls of pain. We kiss her forehead. We thank the medical staff. We pray together. My aunt phones to tell friends and family that mom is finally at peace. As I prepare to leave the hospital, I sit by her one final time. I put my head in my hands, rubbing my forehead as if I can force my mind to make this make sense.
I am a grown man. Yet losing my mom transports me. I am a lost child, no mom and no dad. I am scared of life without her, scared of being alone. She has always been my strength, my support.
Suddenly, through my eyelids and on my skin, I feel sunshine fill the room. The brightest light. I open my eyes. The sun is shining on her face, giving an illusion of warmth and life. I get up. It is time to go. I blow her a sweet kiss then I walk away and I don’t look back. A nurse shows me where the staff exit is and I jump into a waiting taxi.
I give the driver my address. Then I pop another two sedatives to keep me even. Georgia is waiting for me at home and Harry, oh Harry. I am struck by the thought that he will never know his Gramma any better than he does today. His memories will fade to nothing. At this thought, the tears come. Every memory of her life, her journey, plays through my mind’s eye. What was it all for, my fame and fortune, just to lose her now? Why must we love people so much that this amount of hurt is possible? I cry like a baby all the way home and all evening.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
“It’s called Empathic Communication,
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