A visit

Darkness slowly crept up the afternoon sky. Lights went on in the village on one side of the bay. A brash, bold light shone across from the edge of town. It lit up the ungated entrance near the sea. Any who wished to do so could pass through at any time of the day, or night. The markers stood silently, some having done so for a century, or two, or even longer. The ravages of time had sometimes taken their toll on the inscriptions. I walked in through the gate and found the stone, and the flowers I had left near it on a previous visit. The sea swished ashore on the shingle beach nearby, the wind blowing coldly from the gathering dusk.

As I turned to walk away, I became aware of a smiling face nearby. It was younger than I remembered it when I last saw it. “It’s OK”, she said. “I was allowed back tonight, it’s nearly midwinter.” I recalled that she had come with me on a walk to the Fideach at the end of June. No place to go to after dark now, and after this visit I’d just walk back along the shore. “Just wanted to know how you were doing”. She looked me in the eye, knowing full well how I was doing. For my part, I knew the answers to the questions that welled up in me. “It went as I expected it to”, she said, her smile fading. “I saw my husband, and my mother, and I had to come along this time”. Many’s a time, she had told me of a dream, where she had met her late husband and her mother on a railway platform. They were going on a train, but she couldn’t come. Not yet. That evening in October, it was time. “I saw you”, she said, quietly. “You tried to make it bearable”. She shook her head, but then her smile returned. “You always had this calming influence on me”.

The moon rose over the village as the darkness became complete. I could still see her, a memory of how she had looked in better days, perhaps four years previously. “I had been worried about closing things down”, she said. “And we had not finished clearing out the files”. I had always been amazed how prescient she had been, knowing full well what was going to happen, and bravely confronting the prospect, taking the actions that needed to be taken in preparation. Nonetheless still buying new spectacles. “You have to carry on now”, she interrupted my memories. “I mean, not leave right now. Step away from your sorrow, from what we had. That is now closed. We had a lovely time, the simple life. You, me, and the cat. Going on bus runs round the island, meals out in the Crown, the County. All those people we met together”. She smiled broadly, and I smiled back at her. “Take that with you. I hope you can stay on in the island. But even if you can’t, I’ll be there. Even if it’s difficult to come here – I’m not constrained to this place”.

The wind wafted in over the wall as the moon drifted over the village. I turned to walk away, and she moved to come with me. “For now, I can only go as far as the gate”, she said, walking to my left. Slowly, we gained the path, lit up by the distant light in the industrial estate. I felt her presence as we proceeded towards the gate, not speaking. The gateposts loomed against the night’s sky, stars blotted out by the distant light. I turned, and her smile faded. No words were spoken as I stepped up to the cemetery gate. “Remember our secret”, she finally said.

And with those words ringing in my ears, I passed through, into the open. I looked back, but total darkness reigned behind me. Nothing was visible, and not a sound could be heard. The sea was still swishing ashore, and the moon hung brightly over the village. Lights twinkled on the far side of the bay, with the lights lining the street leading up from the shore marking the way.

Barbara - mid December 2021

You were there for me
when I appeared
along the road
into your life

You were there for me
when I emerged
from the blackness
of the moorland

You were there for me
when I was lost
among the lochs
of the old island

You were there for me
so I was there for you
when old age appeared
so you could carry on

I was there for you
in your final year
as your world closed in
and became ever smaller

You were there for me
I was there for you
We were there
for each other

But now you're gone
I'll carry on
in your honour
and remembrance

Cemetery visit

The shoreline path
is my way
where distant islands
hover the horizon

Houses line the crest
of the brae above
shingle lies above
the sea

The old wall curves
sheltering
from the waves
of the bay

Markers galore
austere reminders
of those gone on
ahead

Many moons ago
after a full life
or cruelly
cut short

I acknowledge
your marker
your life
now fulfilled

I remember
as I stand there
the cold December wind
blowing over the wall

You've gone on ahead
but your spirit's with me
and always will be
gus am bris an latha

Reminders aplenty
of your life
and of your absence but
teichidh na sgàilean