I don’t know why, but I wrote this in London, before I knew that Bronwyn was about to die. I just had the urge to get up and write. A few hours later, I heard that she had gone. I honestly feel this was her last message to me. I am not sure what I will do without her now. So, as odd as this sounds, I truly believe these were her last words.
“I cannot see you anymore. I cannot hear you anymore. But I can still smell you. Know that whenever I breathe you in, I am grateful. We haven’t much time. Let me thank you for my life. My years with you were the best I could have lived. I know this. There was such a difference, being here with you, than my bitter youth in the streets.
I can’t believe I have no taste for food anymore. I was so hungry once. And when you fed me, I couldn’t get enough. I thought I would always be hungry, but I am finally satisfied, I guess. My legs are weak, which is a shock. I pulled you down the street once, remember? I was so much stronger than you. It’s hard to think about now. I miss those days.
You are my mother yes, but you are also the best friend I have ever had. I know you know this, from my deep sighs whenever you touch my face and my chest, moving your warm hands down the length of my back. I never pushed you to caress me, unlike SOME dogs, but I wanted you to understand how much I appreciated it, appreciated you. I think you know, but it doesn’t hurt to say it. Now. We may not speak again for a long time. So you should know everything plainly. All must be disclosed, in these final moments. I will leave no regrets, no cliffhangers. I will leave nothing behind but simply, all my love.
All of it.
The others have talked about a bridge, with rainbows above, but I am not sure I will go there. I would rather split open the sky with my departure. The heavens will open and all creatures who have lived once and then died like me will herald my arrival – calling to me with their horns and bells and baking bread smells, celebrate my death and my new life with songs and fishes and lilies and cake – all the things I loved will be there to greet me again, the baby bird I swallowed whole, the squirrel I murdered in the night – my older brother Ralph you loved so much – I will see them all, because I will be able to see again, I will be able to hear again, I will be strong again, and we will wait for you.
Don’t come too fast. Live long my mother. My friend. My love. We don’t need you anytime soon. After all, we will have eternity.
No – I will not be here much longer. You will look up, and I will not be here. But fear not. Because I will be everywhere.