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The Positive Side Fall 2003 The Blackbirds I see the birds The Blackbirds I never told Simon about the birds. Even when they began to gather in the darkened corners of the hospital room, and we all knew the time was finally near. I wondered where he was: What inner landscape he was travelling, tethered so thinly to his frail body? Was it comforting? Frightening? Was he aware of one at all? We could never know. He’d been unconscious for days. A mercy. The ventilator prevented speech. How it had frightened him when it began breathing for him. We’d soothed him with touches and words until the convulsions stopped. His mother asked, surely I’d been through this before? I said no. Not like this. Not with a friend. Days ago. How many? Time had lost its meaning. It did not surprise me when the birds arrived. I wanted to kneel beside the bed, put my hand on Simon’s forehead and my lips to his ear, and tell him not to fear the black birds now gathering at his side. Don’t be afraid of the sternness of their look, of their carbon-black, diamond-brilliant eyes, of the chill wind as their wings come flapping blackly down. They are your friends. Your ferrymen. They are here to see you safely through. To see that no harm comes to you, now on this final journey. You, who’ve already travelled through so many horrors. Their sharp eyes, their sharp claws are here to keep you safe, my friend. Don’t fear. All this I told him silently. And when the final bird arrived and said, it’s time, and the jagged lines on the machines began to plummet and his mother softly said, “My God,” and we all drew closer to his side, all I said to him was, goodbye Simon. The chorus of our voices: We’re all here with you. We love you. Goodbye, lover, son, friend. Lights out now. Don’t be afraid. Goodbye. —Derek Thaczuk We buried Simon’s ashes under a sapling cherry tree in front of Trinity College at the University of Toronto, where he’d spent his happiest years. The last few days while working on this story, I visited his tree—in full July glory in the midst of the beautiful grounds of the bustling campus—and thought about all the atoms that used to be Simon, now growing into this gorgeous tree in his favourite place. | |
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Decisions about particular medical treatments should always be made in consultation with a qualified medical practitioner who is knowledgeable about HIV-related illness and the treatments in question. MORE | |