The Bloody Doors Off

I heard the news today, oh boy.

My Uncle Roy passed earlier in the day. He’d taken a hard fall a couple of weeks ago and had been in hospital since. It scrambled his memories; he had difficulty remembering his family, if at all. He’d broken a hip. For a bit it looked like he was recovering. I ran into my cousin downtown on Thursday and I’d asked about him. She said he was back in ICU.

I’m very numb right now. My mom’s side of the family hasn’t been exactly close. We see each other mainly and weddings and. Well. Yeah.

Maybe it’s the shock of it all. Or the timing. I don’t know.

I just know I’ll never see him again. Gotta figure out how I’m going to make the funeral.

Stop all the clocks, cut off the telephone,
Prevent the dog from barking with a juicy bone,
Silence the pianos and with muffled drum
Bring out the coffin, let the mourners come.

Let aeroplanes circle moaning overhead
Scribbling on the sky the message He Is Dead,
Put crepe bows round the white necks of the public doves,
Let the traffic policemen wear black cotton gloves.

W.H. Auden