Take Me Home by Beth Moranb EPUB & PDF – eBook Details Online
- Status: Available for Free Download
- Author: Beth Moranb
- Language: English
- Genre: Friendship Fiction
- Format: PDF / EPUB
- Size: 2 MB
- Price: Free
I’m no stranger to tears. In my line of work, they’re unavoidable. Big, fat,
honking sobs soaked up with mounds of tissues. A frustrated swipe at grief
spilling over reddened eyelids. The hardest to bear are the silent streams,
unnoticed by the person weeping, as if the pain is so deep, so allencompassing, it is merely who they are now.
They don’t just cry, of course. I’ve encountered simmering bitterness.
Rampant rage. Fear, twisted up with anxiety. The fog of lingering shock.
So, why would I put myself through this, day after day? Why choose to
spend my life submerged in the kaleidoscope of strangers’ sorrows?
Because I know that behind the tears, curses and questions is love.
And I, too, have navigated the river of loss. Surviving its swirling,
murky depths was hard enough. Everything else that accompanied it – the
house, the paperwork, the practicalities – became a burden so heavy that
without help, I would have surely drowned.
So, here I was, walking with Alice Dumble’s family through the
aftermath of her death, providing hugs, hot drinks and a listening ear as we
packed up eight decades of accumulated clutter. Three weeks of tears,
stories and sharing this most precious, intimate of tasks.
Yet after all that, I still couldn’t quite summon up an appropriate
response to a sixty-something woman peeling off her top to reveal her
eighty-four-year-old mother’s face grinning at me from her crepey chest.
A woman of few words at the best of times, I stuttered, ‘Wow, Denise,
that… really expresses your devotion,’ before mercifully being interrupted.
‘For goodness’ sake, Mum.’ Denise’s son, Scott, held a hand in front of
his eyes, causing one of the mugs of tea he was carrying to slop onto the
beige carpet. ‘Seeing you half naked is bad enough. If I have to see that
tattoo of Gran one more time, I’ll be traumatised for life.’
‘Oh, stop being such a drama queen,’ Denise said, fondly patting the top
of her mum’s head. ‘I’ve got a bra on.’
‘Nevertheless…’ I took a mug from Scott with a nod of thanks. ‘If
we’re hoping to get everything tied up today, we’d best get on with it.’
Alice Dumble had passed away after a long illness, so in theory, there’d
been plenty of opportunities to sort things out – or at least find out her bank
details. However, her family had grown so used to the doctor telling them
Alice didn’t have long, they’d stopped taking it seriously. Consequently, by
the time they contacted me, a week after the funeral, Alice’s home, her
affairs and her family were a complete mess.
The four children, nine grandchildren and assorted partners began
arguing as soon as the eldest daughter claimed the wedding ring, and were
still squabbling yesterday afternoon about a chipped vase. I’d had my work
cut out to help the Dumble family deal with the varied tasks accompanying
their mourning. This included sifting through mountains of stuff, readying
the house to be sold, wading through bank accounts, credit, store and
discount cards and dealing with so many random online subscriptions, I was
surprised she had any savings left.
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