It was some date in January, 1971, and I was doing what any self-respecting person would do in January in England. I was shoveling snow...lots of snow...lots and lots of snow. I had to be at work shortly, and work was several miles away...and before I could go to work, I had to find my car (a very small Triumph), which I figured might be the small white lump in front of my house. It was still snowing, quite heavily, and as I uncovered the front of my car and proceeded toward the rear, the snow was re-covering the front for me. Finally, I was able to uncover it enough to leave; just in time, because down the road, here comes a snowplow...which would have pretty much re-buried me.
I got to work, only 30 minutes late, and began the days labors. About an hour or so later, the Company Commander called me into his office. When I arrived, I noticed two other men in there with him...a civilian and a Chaplain. The civilian introduced himself as Mr. So-and-so, from the Red Cross. Seems there was a problem in my family...my mother had been traveling, and as she got off her plane at her destination, she collapsed. She was rushed to the hospital, where they discovered a massive bleeding ulcer, and apparently, a large portion of her blood in her stomach...and they discovered something else.
It was necessary (said Mr. So-and-so) for me to take an emergency leave, and go see her, as her life was apparently in some danger. So, I rushed home (as fast as the still swirling snow would let me), packed a bag, explained the circumstances to my wife, and headed back to the base, where transportaion had been arranged...seems I was pretty much going half way around the world, as my mother chose to collapse...in Hawaii. I really don't have to explain my wifes' reaction to the fact that I was going to Hawaii and she was shoveling snow now, do I?
RAF Lakenheath, England to Bayonne, New Jersey...Bayone, New Jersey to McClelland AFB, California...McClelland AFB, California to Hilo, Hawaii...snow to snow to wind to...Paradise. Didn't really notice Paradise, as I rushed to the hospital, ran up to the correct floor, asked for the room number, ran into the room...and stopped cold. Turned, walked back to the desk, asked for the room number again, was given the same number, and informed them that that couldn't be right. The person in that room had obviously died a week previously, and had somehow been mummified. Couldn't be my mother. They informed me that it was, in fact, my mother. Went back to the room. Slowly approached the bed. Peered closely. Yeeaahh, MAYBE there was a very slight resemblance...maybe.
Mummy croaked...err...spoke...requested liquid sustenance. I gave her some water and she perked right up. Surprisingly, two days later, she looked normal, and was ready to be discharged. And then, the doctor came in...Don't know if you know this, but doctors drone...usually, there's a nurse to translate, but there wasn't one that day, so the doctor just droned on and on and on..."Mrs. Hurley, blah, blah, blah, yadda, yadda, yadda, blah, blah, tumor, blah, yadda, yadda, final stages, blah, blah, blah, three months left, yadda, yadda, yad...hold up here...back up, buckeroo...what's this about three months? Seems she had colon cancer...too late to operate...could do chemo, but wouldn't work...three months left, about...wow...she was 59 years old...
She was discharged, and we went to a friends house for her recuperation, over on the Kona Coast...an absolutely beautiful place. I had 28 days left on my leave, and decided to stay for the entire time...after all, when I returned to England, I probably wouldn't see her again. We explored the island, found lava tubes and lava caves, checked to make sure there wasn't any...you know...lava left in them, and I did some spelunking...took a drive completely around the island...went to the beach...
While at the beach, she wanted to just relax in the sand...I decided to head out and check out the crystal clear water...see what I could see. So, off I went...got out there a bit, dove down...and got caught in an undercurrent. Said current, doing what currents do, pulled me under, rolled me around, twisted me up, tied me in a knot, untied me, all the while pulling me farther out to sea. Now, I'm a smoker...have been doing that for 50 years or so now...at the time, it was only about 13 years, but even so...yeah, I know...shouldn't do that, etc., etc....but I did. Smokers can't hold their breath as well as non-smokers, did you know that? So, as I'm getting swept where ever, I'm primarily trying not to drown. Finally...finally...the current release me, and I managed to get to the surface...and there I bob, taking great, hoarse, gasping breaths, my eyes, full of salt, squeezed shut as I tried to form tears to wash the salt away, my heart pounding like a blacksmiths' hammer...and I finally open my eyes and see...nothing...nothing but water...look to the left...water...look to the right...water. Apparently, during my tour through a watery grave, some one has stolen an entire island.
Now, over the intervening years, I've carefully analyzed this situation, and I've come to an obvious conclusion: at some point during my swirling, my normal, average, human intelligence had been washed out of me and swept away...you see, a person of normal, average, human intelligence would have...you know...looked behind them. I didn't do that...I just treaded water, and looked out at miles and miles of miles and miles and started thinking that maybe...if I floated and swam alternately, I could...why, look...there's a ship...maybe they can swing over and pick me up...that would be...what? I thought I heard some one call...my name...yeah, there it is again...Here I am! Are you waiting for me to come to you? There's a huge light in the sky, should I come to the light? Maybe you could help me get there? Hello...where are you? Where are...
So, during this conversation with...whoever, I actually swung around, and look! Somebody stuck an island over there! Just a couple of hundred yards away...and look...there's...yeah, Hi, Mom! Yeah, I see you...easier to swim if I don't have to stop and wave all the time, Ma...yeah, I'm coming...relax, Ma, I'll get there already...OK, so now you're not waving, you're pointing...you don't have to point at me, Ma, I know I'm out here...ooohhhh...you're pointing at the fin...
You know, certain people work way too hard...I speak, of course, of Olympic swimmers...they train hours and hours each day...they watch their diet, they work out...they don't need to do that. Just drop them in the ocean, flop a fin down behind them, and both Olympic and World Records would fall like flies in a gas chamber...I'm pretty sure I broke a few that day. I swam so hard that I was still going strong when I hit that very, very shallow water...you know...most people call it a beach. I turned my head to inhale, and got a couple of lungfuls of sand...did you know that the average adult male of, say, 23, can't actually inhale sand and reap any benefits from it? Well, you do now...Just sayin'.
Well, the month flew by...for me. My wife, who was still shoveling snow, probably didn't feel that way...I didn't actually have the courage to ask her. At the end of the month, I said a tearful good-bye to Mom...knowing it would be the last time...
The Update:
Three months...to the day... after that fateful announcement...the doctor died; massive heart attack. My mother did, sadly, succumb to colon cancer and heart failure...fifteen years later. Three doctors gave her dates with death, and she outlived all three of them.
Oh...and that intelligence I lost? I thought about it often after that...I wondered: was it swept out to sea? devoured by the shark? Or, did it eventually wash up on shore, and lay on the beach, gasping, pale pink, and pulsating slightly, waiting for some one to find it, love it, give meaning to it once again? I hope so...I, over the intervening years, have managed to cope with both its loss and it absence...and judging by the way people are today, I think maybe I'm better off without it...
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