When Giants Fall
Madge had woken with thoughts of her uncles. Two brothers who had been a huge presence in her childhood and indeed, all through life. They were the sons of her nan’s older sister who herself had died before Madge was ten. Aunty Kathleen had been a glamorous, rebellious woman who was very beautiful and very distant. She wore lipstick and had a streak of grey hair that gave her a film star look. Madge didn’t remember her clearly but her own mother had adored the glamorous aunty and Madge could still recall her mother’s anguish at the death of her darling aunt. She had died not long after Madge’s grandfather and looking back, Madge wondered just how the adults had coped with so much loss. Yet of course, now she was an adult who had experienced losses of her own, she understood that coping was what people did. What people do. We cope with the worst of things because, quite simply, it’s a case of having to.
Madge thought back to the summer two years ago when she had received a call from her cousin to say their uncle Mike had died suddenly. He lived in Canada and Madge didn’t see him often but whenever he came back to the UK, he made sure to call her and get her round to visit. He was a tall man with a huge laugh and a loud voice and he could fill a room in a moment. He was full of love and laughter and mischief and the family all loved him dearly. It was shocking that he was gone.
The shock continued that summer because uncle Mike’s brother, Don also died. He had travelled from Australia to Canada for his brother’s funeral and had suddenly collapsed and, just like that, he was also gone. Madge had been in Ireland when she got the second call. It was as devastating as the first. Possibly more so because the idea that both the brothers were gone was so shocking. In a world of shocks and sorrows, their sudden departures were still being felt. Funerals on zoom had meant there had been no sense of actual coming together at the end of a life and this was, Madge felt, one of the saddest aspects of the new world order. The continued separation, even after death reminds us to live.
Madge thought about her widowed aunties, navigating a world without the men they had known and loved for more than fifty years. Uncle Mike had been the loud, funny guy who was the life and soul of the party. A proud grandad and huge Spurs fan. Uncle Don was quieter, a more sensitive soul who wore big rings and had jet black hair. He loved music and he adored his wife. They had four sons but Madge did not know them well because they had moved from London to Australia many decades ago. Yet, they were family and they shared blood and they had all loved the huge man who seemed to have been there forever and now wasn’t. Neither of them were here anymore and Madge could feel the space they had left. In truth, she’d never thought of them dying, but she could feel it.
She could feel it because of course, her own widowhood had given her an insight into the abyss that is left when giants fall. The huge love, the huge loss, the huge battle to regrow and continue after they’ve gone. We’re like forests really thought Madge. Trees fall and for a while, there is silence as the shock reverberates. Then life, slowly, slowly, begins to grow again. It happens almost without us realising.
Shoots of hope, moments of relief, the fading of the scars. Nothing is ever quite the same again and the rest of life is a new way of being. Without the giants, we can feel very small thought Madge. At least, that had been her experience. She couldn’t imagine what it would be like to lose someone after fifty, sixty, even 70 years as some people had. There was no way of measuring love and loss of course. Yet there was something about the sheer scale of time together that must be so monumental when it is over. She was grateful for the 20 years she’d had with her own giant. She couldn’t imagine how she would have managed loss after half a century together.
Now of course it was the present day. This day in August, two years after the two giants had fallen. The wider world was feeling a bit wild. The inner world was perhaps quieter for the people who had loved the two magnificent men and Madge knew that her aunts, strong as they were, would be feeling the loss for always. It’s the whole human experience thought Madge. Be born, be raised, be loved, find love, create a life of love, die, leave behind a legacy of love and repeat. It sounded a bit straightforward and of course, it isn’t and yet, in its simplest form, it is. Life is love and this was how Madge was raised. Her nan had raised her uncles and their loss and the love they left behind was testimony to that commitment. A life committed to loving.
With a deep gratitude that she had been loved by men who knew love, Madge thought about whether she wanted broth yet. Some days, it was just a little early. Perhaps more decaff and some hahalala wishes. Cosmic hugs and big love. xx