Calling All Angels

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Calling All Angels

Post by Wolfy on Mon Jun 01, 2015 6:58 pm

Ivor had been in and out of hospital now for almost twelve months and still, no one really understood what the problem was, but he somehow managed to brush everything off as though it was nothing. Each time he would return home, he wore the brightest smile imaginable and thus, everyone believed that all was well and he was, in his own words, on the mend. Emlyn would pay him a visit whenever he was kept in for more than twenty-four hours and though the old man appeared a little weary, he claimed it was a result of all the tests they went ahead with each time they had him in. Emlyn's mother would also drop in to pay him a visit every once in a while and the blonde picked up on the fact that his father never did, not even once. He would often claim that he was too busy to be participating in weekly visitor hours at their local surgery, but his son knew better. Although his father worked hard and sometimes even put in to work further hours if ever they were running low on money, he found himself not working at all some days.

No matter his excuses, his son would always get on at him for lying through his teeth about being up to his neck in paperwork that had to be completed by the following day and if ever the blonde opened his mouth about it, his father would cease all communication with him for weeks. Emlyn understood that he would never be able to alter his fathers opinion where his grandfather was concerned, but he continued to try, for the sake of their relationship. It never was a surprise when he learnt that the two hadn't spoken properly in several years and though he wondered why that was, that was the only thing he was afraid to ask about. The severity of the rift between them left him feeling out of sorts and for a time, he had tried to guess what might have gone wrong, but wasn't able to come up with anything and so, gave up trying altogether. But that dire need to get them talking again despite their differences, was ever-present and he saw to make at least a few attempts every week to make it happen, especially when his bamps was unwell.

"Yer all right there, bamps?" he offered the older man a warm smile, as he strolled through the door, a wrapped up butter cake in his hand.

The gentleman stirred and pulled out of his daze, shifting his gaze from the window and toward the source of the voice, smiling as best he could in return as his eyes fell upon his grandson. Emlyn was and always had been the only one that visited him and his beloved wife, before she had passed away just a few years ago. Ivor had not been quite right since he had lost the love of his life, but had pressed on for the sake of his family and a want to stick around as long as possible to see his grandson grow into a fine young man, just as he was now. His smile remained as the boy rounded the hospital bed and took a seat beside him, reaching for his hand and placing the neatly bundled up cake into the palm of his hand. If there was one thing Ivor knew, it was that Emlyn took as much time as he could out of his own life, to make sure that his bamps was happy and everything was in order, before going ahead with his day as he would whenever his grandfather was in good shape and not so often in and out of the hospital.

"Why aren't yer out an' about with all yer friends, Simba?" he questioned, revealing the sponge cake tucked beneath folds of foil and offering him another smile of gratitude. "Surely yer would rather be frolickin' about the prom an' not stuck in 'ere all day with an old bugger like me, eh?"

"Da never comes to visit yer an' I felt like yer might be alone too often, an' with Gran not bein' about anymore, yer need all the company yer can get," there were no lies in Emlyn's response and as he spoke, the familiar sting of tears greeted him, but he held them back as best he could.

"Yer know yer dun 'ave to be doin' all tha' for me— I might be a little lonely without yer Gran, but I 'ave these voices in my head to keep me goin'," Ivor gave the boy a gentle nod and a wink as he said this, at which point Emlyn fell back into a happy state as the two laughed about it.

In truth, though, the lad worried an enormous amount about his grandfather and began to wondered how the older man felt when it came to his own son, and how the two had managed to get by for so long without really talking to one another. It posed the question of why all the time, but he was unable to ask his father or his grandfather, for fear of them both ending communication with him. Whatever it was had to have been awful enough to unbalance nearly all peace between close family members. Emlyn never spoke up about it when he was with his grandfather; he simply preferred to focus on lighter subjects if ever they chose to delve into deeper discussions. And with him being so unwell as of late, the thought alone of bringing up past problems was the very last thing he wanted to do, for his bamps did not need the added stress and he knew, somehow, it would not solve a damn thing.

"Do yer like the cake, bamps? I 'ad a go at bakin' it myself this mornin' an' hoped it would taste all right," the blonde shuffled forward until he was resitng his elbows on the edge of the bed and grinned from ear to ear as his grandfather nodded profusely with a mouthful of sponge.

"Yer might need to open up a cake shop or somethin' 'ere, Em— this rivals all the others in town," the older man swallowed the remainder of crumbs he had in his mouth still and offered the final slice to his grandson, whom politely turned it down after explaining it had been made solely for him.

"Yer keep tha', bamps. I slaved away just for yer so yer could 'ave somethin' tasy before yer evenin' tests," Emlyn caught sight of how his grandfather lost that look of happiness in his eyes at the mention of more tests, but decided to let that one slide, believing most people loathed the idea of being poked and prodded with all manner of needles and medical equipment.

"I dun know how long I'll be in 'ere this time— but will yer tell yer mother I said 'ello an' all when yer get home tonight?" Ivor was not making it known to the blonde how much of a lie that was and he hoped it was not written in his face. His words could be coated with sugar enough to fool the boy into thinking all was well, but if the truth was on full display in his expression, the questioning that followed would be too much for him to handle.

Fortunately for him, his grandson had not picked up on the faults in his confession and so, he believed he had gotten away with it once more. For the last couple of months, he had been telling tall tales about how the doctors and nurses had absolutely no idea what was wrong, but wanted him in and out for a dozen tests over the next year, so they could finally figure it out. Everyone he had confided in knew the truth, but the one he cared about most, did not and it was purely to protect him from any heartache that may be quick to follow the horrific news. Ivor himself was still trying to deal with the consequences of the fatalities that were soon to arrive and he was more or less frightened for everyone around him, as opposed to himself. He understood what was going on and knew that sooner or later, it would all come to an end— he had accepted the news and been prepared for some time now, but breaking said news to his family was by no means an easy task, thus, he had chosen instead to lie his way out of that particular commitment.

And it was in that moment, as he shifted slightly on the bed to face his grandson, who was looking at him wih all the love in the world, that it happened. A beep sounded throughout the room, closely followed by several others that formed a pattern and the old man crumbled, falling back against the pillow and rocking back and forth, clutching the gown he wore over his chest. The boy almost flew out of his chair at the sight and pegged it to the door, yelling all sorts of remarks until someone came rushing into the room.

Emlyn did not know where to place himself as the nurse who had raced in, ventured back to the door and called for further aid and the assistance medical staff who knew his grandfathers condition. The tears from earlier were now freely spilling and soaking his shirt, darkening the colour where they became a part of the grey material, but he was told to stand as far back as possible, or leave the room. Wanting to be near his grandfather, he chose to stand in one corner of the room whilst several members of staff bustled around the bed, trying and failing to work out what was wrong. It was then that a senior member of staff entered the room and ordered everyone out, at which point they all began to mumble amongst themselves and some retorted that the man was not far off dying. Overhearing this, Emlyn crumbled just as his grandfather had, but out of pure rage, stumbled forward toward the doctor whom had told them that they were only making matters worse and almost got a punch in until he was held back to two other doctors.

His face contorted into something menacing and he kicked about, trying to free himself from those holding him back whilst the other doctor stared at him with sympathy. Emlyn, frustrated and confused, now noticed the absolute silence in the room and cast a glance toward his bamps, who was now laying in the bed completely motionless; the monitor beside him having flatlined whilst he had berated the staff.

"Your grandfather was very ill, Mr. Bowen— he has been for a number of years and he knew he was going. I'm terribly sorry; there was nothing we could have done to save him," the doctor approached the blonde with caution in case he lashed out at him again, but there was no more of that. "We have a few papers for you to sign, if you would care to do that now, or return them at the end of the week."

"Tha' is not possible, he never told me anythin'. He said he was just fine an' tha' no one really knew what the problem was, but tha' he would be 'ome as soon as yer 'ad run a few more tests," the boy was conflicted as far as emotions went, but as he spoke, everything he felt as a result of all that had gone wrong in the last few minutes, came pouring out. Tears were flowing like a river, cascading over his cheeks and further dampening his shirt as he just fell apart, almost crashing to his knees following the grief that took over, but was held up by the doctors, both of whom led him out of the room and found that he was in too much of a state to be filling in any kind of paperwork.

"Is there anyone else we can contact regarding the situation, Mr. Bowen?" the senior doctor asked, settling Emlyn into a chair just outside the room and with a look of understanding, gently pat his knee for some sort of reassurance that everything would be okay.

The boy knew otherwise, though. Nothing would be okay anymore, or it would take a hell of a long time for him and other family members to come to terms with the fact that someone so wonderful had been taken from them. Emlyn felt as though a piece of his soul had dissipated, as soon as he realised that he would never again be able to visit his grandfather, in or out of hospital. The knowledge alone that he could have still dropped int o see him, even whilst he was stuck in here enduring all manner of tests, would have been something— but this, he hadn't been entirely prepared for. Nothing could ease all of that pain building inside his chest and every word the doctor spoke, seemed to go in one ear and straight out the other.

"Yer could contact my Mam, but she is usually pretty busy— 'am better off takin' the papers 'ome an' tacklin' them there, then bringin' 'em back in as soon as I can," the blonde tried in vain to politely smile at the other, but all he was able to offer was the trembling of his lower lip.

"That's not a problem at all. I just need to take a few details and then you can be on your way, or you can linger a while longer— we don't close up properly for another hour or two, so you are more than welcome to stay a while," the doctor pat his knee once more and strolled down the hall to pick up most of the paperwork, explaining as he went that some would take a while to come through.

As soon as he had a majority of the papers in hand, he opted to venture back into his grandfathers room, only to note as soon as he stepped inside that he was no longer there. The part of him that felt abandoned and empty returned and as he approached the older man, who appeared to be in a peaceful sort of slumber, realisation hit him like a ton of bricks. Again, he cried and by the end of it, had no idea where he was or what had happened. Every thought that popped into his head was along the lines of why his bamps had lied so easily about his condition and though he could not understand it, a part of him knew that he must have been trying to protect him from the harsh reality of what was soon to happen.

And so, he just sat there for an hour, holding onto his grandfathers lifeless, chilled hand and praying for all kinds of miracles, but nothing came about. He rose his head after a while and looked up at him, crying softly and repeating over and over in soft whispers, how he wished the angels would give him one more chance; that they would give him a few more years on earth. But he eventually deemed that manner of thinking fairly selfish and pushed it aside - his only thoughts then being how he wished the old man would have told him sooner, so that he might have been ready for what would surely happen. With his focus now on holding onto his grandfathers hand, he settled himself on the side of the bed where there was room for him to lay, and gentle whispered the poem he had known for so long, but never before recited— and he cried, as those woeful words lulled him to sleep.

"Don't grieve for me, for now I'm free. I'm following the path God laid for me. I took his hand when I heard him call, I turned my back and left it all. I could not stay another day, to laugh, to love, to work or play. Tasks left undone must stay that way, I found that place at the close of the day. If my parting has left a void, then fill it with remembered joy. A friendship shared, a laugh, a kiss, ah yes, these things, I too will miss. Be not burdened with times of sorrow, I wish you the sunshine of tomorrow. My life's been full, I savoured much, good friends, good times, a loved one's touch. Perhaps my time seems all too brief, don't lengthen it now with undue grief. Lift up your heart and share with me, God wanted me now, he set me free."

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Wolfy

Posts : 134
Join date : 2013-08-22
Age : 25
Location : Graceland

http://emlynbowen.tumblr.com

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