Blue Sky July by Nia Wyn

Author:Nia Wyn
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Penguin USA, Inc.

YEAR FOUR

(September 11)

THIS MORNING was storybook sunny and we were out in the garden, Joeski and I, smelling and touching all things green.

The leaves on the laburnum tree,

the shed,

the rosemary.

Then we lay on the swing seat, cuddled up close under the big blue sky, reading a book called A Fly Went By. The saxophonist’s window was closed today. The garden feels quiet when he’s away.

We came in at lunchtime, and I watched the news.

People made phone calls to loved ones on the airplanes that hit the towers in New York.

Their last words had all been, “I love you.”

We gave up on our therapies this afternoon, Joeski and I. We just went back to the garden and lay on the swing seat, looking up at the sky.

“I love you,” I said.

“Blue,” he said.

I will always remember that bright blue sky.

Sometimes looking through the window on these bleak autumnal days, the world looks like it’s lost the will to live in Market Road.

The flights of birds from emptying trees.

The fading light,

the falling leaves.

And there are times when I wish I could join them.

Dianne Pretty wants to die. She is confined to a wheelchair and is telling the High Court that the quality of her life is so low that she wants to commit suicide.

Ramón Sampedro wanted that, too, when he was severely paralyzed in a diving accident in Spain. He became a cause célèbre with his Right to Die campaign.

Sometimes I wonder if this happy child,

that smiles and giggles by my side,

might also want to die one day.

Sometimes I wonder if

the time just comes

when it seems easier that way.

We’ve been playing cards, Joeski and me. We’ve made up our own special version of Old Maid which involves me showing him the cards, one by one, and then me screaming each time the Old Maid is turned.

I still believe that he might spot her first, but however many times he tries, he still prefers his Stevie Wonder book, with the big press buttons down the side.

Perhaps something will come to help Dianne Pretty if she just

holds on,

something better than she dreams of,

something better than oblivion.

But I guess to her it doesn’t seem that way.

There are thousands of women Dianne Pretty’s age having face

lifts in London today, and even their toes shortened in America, to

make life feel more beautiful,

a little bit better,

a little more normal,

and they keep the doctors more than busy.

The world’s a topsy-turvy place,

and despite all his best intentions,

Superman still can’t

move a muscle.

Perhaps one day he will.

Perhaps Joe will remain as happy as he seems now.

Perhaps he knows it’s more important to be loved, than cured.

Winter is a time for letting go.

I’ve cut back on one patterning, and one light-room session. Judit’s stopped coming.

With his enormous network of therapies Joe hasn’t had much chance to be small, much of a chance just to Be, and so I’ve made a halfhearted attempt to trim them down, and create more time for him and me.

We’ve been out visiting the Christmas trees across the city this winter.

Download

Copyright Disclaimer:
This site does not store any files on its server. We only index and link to content provided by other sites. Please contact the content providers to delete copyright contents if any and email us, we'll remove relevant links or contents immediately.