I would give you everything. A Reminiscence
Mary lay quietly in her hospital bed, recovering from surgery.
Her face was pale, dark shadows hollowed beneath her eyes. Her arms, so thin and frail, lay on top of the blanket.
“Why havent you been keeping a better eye on her?” chided Dr. Farringdon, glancing sternly at Margaret Wilson. “One more incident like this, and I cant promise youll be so lucky again!”
Margaret lowered her head, her voice faint. “Im sorry. Old age creeps up, and Im not managing as well anymore.”
The doctor gave her a long look. “Shes at such a critical age. Shell make foolish mistakes. What then?”
He then strode out, leaving Margaret to her thoughts.
Margaret stood for a moment in the corridor, gazing bleakly out through the window at the grey London sky, before shuffling back into the ward. She sat at the edge of the bed, slipping Marys limp, small hand into her own lined but steady grasp.
How had it come to this? Everything in her life always seemed to go slightly awry. Where had she taken a wrong turn? She had always wanted the best. Shed finished her studies at the agricultural college with top marks, eager for a world of possibilities, but was immediately posted to a remote Hampshire village as a field advisor.
Shed married late. Her husband, George, was the eldest son of the village council chairmanworked the land as a tractor driver, full of plans for university someday. Margaret loved to sing, but George would always wince as though shed set his teeth on edge. “You sing all wrong, you sing like a townie, not proper at all,” hed mutter.
He soon found comfort in the bottle. “Look at you,” hed say. “And just look at mea village nobody.” And hed drink, and drink Then little Louise was born, and George was over the moon. He never wanted to put her down. Margaret hoped the birth of their daughter would mend things, but fate was unkind.
One winters night, George set off to deliver the lorry to a neighbouring village. He took the shortcut over the frozen river. The ice gave way, and both truck and driver were lost beneath the black water.
Despite her father-in-laws pleas, Margaret Wilson and little Louise soon left their Hampshire cottage for London.
Louise grew up lively and sharp, took to music, and earned a place at the Academy. But then came the turbulent nineties. Louise dropped everything. “Whats the point?” shed say. “I dont want to scrape by like you, Mum.” She set out as a market trader, zipping from London to Manchester every other week with her friendsan unstoppable force. She made money, rented a stall at the marketplace, even bought herself a second-hand Ford Escort. And then there was her boyfriend.
His name was Sam.
She fell pregnant, eyes shining. “Well marry soon,” she promised.
Things didnt work out as planned. Sam vanished one day, along with all the savings Louise had stashed away.
That was when MaryMary, with her midnight eyesentered the world.
But Louises love life never settled. One boyfriend, then another; still she chased happiness.
On one trip she met someonean outsider, from overseas. They settled abroad together, in France.
Mary started awake then, opening her eyes.
“Nan, what are you doing here? Why are you always interfering?” Mary tugged her hand from her grandmothers grip. “I dont need anyone. No one needs me. Everyones left. I cant trust anyone.” She shut her eyes again.
“But I havent left you?”
“You havent. But you only care if I behave properly. To be like everyone else! You dont care what I actually think.”
“Mary, youre wrong. Everything about you matters to me. Every second of your life. I would give you everything I havemy life, if it would help.” Margaret caught Marys hand again and squeezed. “Please, believe that.”
Mary only looked at her, scepticism in her gaze. “Thats what people say. But no one would ever really give their life for someone else. No one.”
With trembling despair, Margaret held on. Shed never loved anyone like this before, not even her own daughter. She wished with all her strength that her remaining life-force could flow into Maryperhaps, somehow, it might help.
Her own life was nearly over. Nothing left to put right now.
If anyone else had been present at that moment, they would have been astonished by what they saw. Marys hand twitched, and a strange warmth seemed to pass from grandmothers grasp. A hint of colour flooded Marys pale cheeks. Her eyes softened.
Mary sighed, like a child who has finally stopped crying, and drifted into peaceful, healing sleep.
Margaret barely made it home that night, as if her wish to give Mary her life was becoming reality.
The next morning, she found herself unable to get out of bedher strength was gone.
Mary was discharged after only another day, much improved. As she left, her friends greeted her at the hospital gates.
“Oi, youre back on your feet already! Whats your secret, then? Ready to paint the town red tonight?”
“Nan gave me her life,” Mary quipped, feigning bravado. “Ive got double now! Ill pop home, scrub off the hospital smell, then see you at the club!”
She skipped along, kicking pebbles, bounded easily up the stairs to her flat, and rang the bell. No answer. She rang again, and knocked harder.
“Nan, Im home!”
Her kick nudged the door openit hadnt been locked. Odd.
She entered, her heart tightening at the sight of her grandmother lying still on the sofa.
Panic gripped her. How could Grandma be ill? Nan was always therenothing was supposed to happen to her.
Creeping closer, Mary called gently, “Nan?”
Margaret stirred, forcing her eyes open. “My darling, Im so glad youre alright”
“Nan!” Mary grabbed Margarets hand. “Nan, Im here!” She snatched up the phone and dialled 999.
Paramedics arrived quickly, spiriting Margaret back to hospital.
For the first time in her life, Mary was truly alone.
The phone rang incessantly all evening with calls from friends, but she wouldnt answer. For her, this was no joke now. The thought of losing the only person who truly loved her was terrifying.
From then on, Mary visited her grandmother daily. Margaret couldnt quite believe ithad she somehow really passed something onto Mary? Why else would her granddaughter start studying, forsake her old crowd and wild nights, and even begin to singher voice dark and lovely, reminiscent of her fathers? Some gift had surely come through.
A week later, Mary brought Margaret home, and they began a new chapter together.
Mary worked hard at college, held down a part-time job, kept the home running, and had lessons with a singing teacher.
Margaret found herself marvelling at the change.
Had her desperate plea, her half-crazy wish to give Mary her life, really been answered?
One evening, out of the blue, the telephone rangit was Louise. Margarets daughter was crying so much, she was barely intelligible.
At length, Margaret pieced the story together: recently, in France, Louise had decided to marry her partner. Before the ceremony, shed sought confessionand in doing so, everything tumbled out, one tangled memory unravelling another. The old priest had told her to pray for forgiveness for all that weighed on her heart and her family line. Louise had revealed far more than anyone expected.
Perhaps everything truly had come together thenthe grandmothers selfless longing, Louises own reckoning.
Its never too late to change your life, or to help those who still need you. For the living, nothing is ever truly finished.
Louise and her husband returned to England soon after. They settled next door to Margaret.
Mary lives with her grandmother still, studying part-time, working.
And Margaret now knows: however bleak things seem, you must never stop fighting for life, not until the very last moment. In each of us, theres a strength and energy drawn from all those who came before usan energy that never quite runs out.
