This morning, on entering the staff room, I immediately felt something was amiss. In this small, smoky room where teachers are waiting for the end of recess, the atmosphere is usually relaxed, even schoolboy, let alone the eve of a weekend.
Today the atmosphere was simply a disaster. I joined in silence one of the few vacant seats wicker while some colleagues greeted me with a pained smile and forced. Others do not even look m'accordèrent, eyes lost in the distance or simply attached to the ceiling or on their shoes.
Only once installed I discovered that the object of attention. C, very corpulent music teacher, was surrounded by his four colleagues talking in low voices. One of them gently encircled her neck while slipping him a few words in his ear. When freed himself from this embrace, I have come across a brief moment her eyes that I froze.
His eyes misted and reddened by tears, shouted "at relief.
Lost, I tried to understand the situation with me clinging to a few snippets of conversation exchanged in whispers by C. and those around him. She spoke in a news to share with his son's efforts to regroup and hold back the tears, of his intention to give battle to the end.
Miss A's mother confirmed my worst fears. A damned crab had taken up residence in the liver of C. and this, briefing the previous day by his doctor, had to share it with friends.
I'd love to get up and shake my arms out loud through the 120 pounds of pain and anxiety but it is something I'm not. I see people suffer capsized but I'm still not what those who know how to find the appropriate words and gestures.
few minutes later I heard that JP mentioned a few weeks ago on this blog (the post 22-10), when to him was going through his last days, also devoured from within by death-grip. The day before, I had been on the phone, where a pasty see, he assured me that he felt much better. I had so wanted a good year before I realized my blunder. The guy seems to hang on despite the dark shadow that hangs over his hospital bed. It will disappear soon unless I've never heard him complain of his condition. Here's what to me makes sense of the word "courage."
Some days, the ephemeral nature of our existence and jumps me violently in the face and immerse myself in agony the next day. As the years pass and I realize my end very close and that of my family.
Men are definitely not made to die.
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