The Clouds

Clouds

I'm there, everywhere
I bring life and take it away
White or Grey, Blue or Pink
My colour changes as does my shape

I'm fluffy and billowey
Angry and Fierce
Alone in the blue sky
United in the grey
Filled with rain or dust
Dancing high in the sky

The Accident

“An accident” he said “An accident!”

“It was an accident dad, honest” she nodded her eyes downward towards the floor.

“No Lucy, that's not an accident” She blushed as he raised his voice his cheeks glowing pink. “I’ll tell you about accidents shall I?” He patted the chair, indicting for her to sit down next to him, sheepishly she took her seat and he began.

“An accident is an event that happens by chance, without deliberate cause” He took a deep a breath. “An accident is what you had when you were a small child, when you would trip and stumble cutting you knee” his face softened as he paused “An accident is what you had when you dropped that milkshake on your grandma’s persian rug” He smiled “Horrible thing it was”

“An accident is what your brother had when he fell out of the tree, breaking his arm, or when he fell off his bike cracking his head open”

“An accident is when you crashed your first car, damaging that wall” He paused sighing deeply.

“An accident is when I bumped into your mother the first time, my bus was late or I would never have been there. I was on my way to the cinema, but then I bumped into you mother. knocked her off her feet I did” he laughed, Lucy could feel the tension lifting.

“Does that mean I was a product of an accident?” Said Lucy. Her mother could be heard in the kitchen laughing, she was clearly listening in. Just then he started again.

“An accident my girl, is a plane crashing, trains derailing, ships sinking in storms. An accident is bad, a disaster, and explosion, a flood”

“But dad, it was an accident, it really was.”

“No Lucy, there is no such thing as an accident, that's what my father always said, everything has a reason.” He paused before adding “A cause and an effect” He tutted “You're only 16 Lucy, I thought you had more sense, thought you would be more careful.”

“But dad” Lucy sighed

“No I don’t want to hear it” He turned away “ I mean how could you, you’ve ruined your life” Lucy laughed. “It’s not funny my girl, how can you get a job like that”

“But dad, it’s not like I’m pregnant or anything, it’s only orange hair.”

Death

It's not something I normally dwell on, something I have always thought I was well adjusted too. As a child I was always well adapted to it, had pets, lots of pets and that helped. As did the amount of times I witnessed it. Sorry you have no idea what I am talking about do you. Death, yes not a cheerful subject I know, but one I had always coped with.

I remember clearly when my granddad died, he was the first person I had loved and lost, I was about 3. My nan had gone out to the kitchen leaving my granddad and I snuggled up in a chair, we often were as we had always been inseparable, I was his little helper. When she came back it was too late he was gone, I was ushered next door while the ambulance came. I didn’t really understand death then, but I know it meant I would never sit with my granddad again, never help him with his trinkets, never visit his shop and I have not set foot in a betting shop since.

My Grandma was next, didn’t know her as well, and to be honest I was not that upset by her death. I remember sorting out her house, finding trinkets that painted a different picture of this harsh woman who had forced, or at least tried to force me to eat vegetables.

I was 6 when my friend Richard's dad died, he was young but had been ill for a long time, but that's not what I remember. No it was the assembly at school explaining to us that Richard and his younger brother didn’t know his dad was dead, and that we were never to tell them. It was a small church school and we all knew each other well. Richard and his brother were simply told their Dad had gone away.

Now this one surprises most, a death that did affect me as a child was the loss of my headmaster Mr Brown, I idolised Mr Brown. Oddly by today's standards I used to walk home with him every night so I suppose we were closer than pupils normally are to the head teacher, but as I said it was a small friendly school. The school had no car park and we lived less than quarter of a mile away,  Mr Brown used to park on our large driveway, so walking home with him did make sense. When he died I was heartbroken. I was back of house at the crematorium when he was loaded into the cremation oven and I did actually cry.

Suppose I should explain why I was back of house, I often was to be fair. If my mum was at work and my dad had no childcare I often attended all sorts of services, I spent many an hour in vestries, or sisters offices on wards, but my favourite was the crematorium. I was allowed to feed the fish, crematoriums always had fish, and I often helped with the flowers and the looking back the scattering of ashes. I suppose now this would all be frowned upon, but made me very accepting of death.

When my step daughter Danni’s great grandma died, she was not allowed to attend the funeral as at 15 they felt she was too young.  My own children have always attended funerals, Jamie aged 3 even spoke at my dad's funeral, while his younger sister Susan drew a picture for granddad's coffin.

As I’ve gone through life I’ve attended lots of funerals some effect me more than others, baby’s always being the worst, I won’t dwell on these. However recently I have lost two friends, both have effected me more than other loses, why, well both were suicides, both relatively young men. David was just 50, Jonathan 35.

David’s was a huge shock, just a day or so after we had been sharing recipes and planning a day out. I saw it on Facebook, another friend asking why an ambulance was outside his house, then it came out, David was gone. PTSD too much for him.

Jonathan was less of a shock, more a surprise. 5 years ago Jonathan fell off a roof, ended up a paraplegic, he went from an active fit man to one trapped in a chair. Others said he was fine, his mood good. But he wasn’t, so when the news came a week before Easter that Jonathan was missing, I knew, I mean how do you lose a man in an electric wheelchair on a small island. Two days later, they found him, and while others grieved and asked why, my thoughts were well, I can’t say.