Call and Response
"I've a strange heaviness in my arms, Mac. Can't seem to row at all. Something's wrong. I need to get back to Mae and the baby."
"We'll turn her around, Angus. We can do the rowing. Should be back by the afternoon if the waves hold constant."
He saw Mae sitting by the window, the baby in her arms, as he rushed into the house.
"What's wrong, Mae? The baby's so still."
"Oh, Angy Mal, our Donald died this morning. He had a fierce fever while you were gone. He fought hard, poor wee one. I was praying you'd come."
"I had to come back, I couldn't row, Mae, had a heaviness in my arms. What can I do?"
"Best to make a casket to bury our baby in. Paint it white, pure soul that he was."
Angus carried the casket in his arms for the funeral. "Mae, this is the heaviness I felt in my arms in the boat, the very same."
This is such a vivid and sad prose. Wonderfully done I'm sure so many parents had to face this same scenario in earlier times.
ReplyDeleteThanks for entering the digital scrapbook software give away on my blog -- good luck!
Pat, This was a story about my grandparents who lived in Nova Scotia and lost their first child.
ReplyDeleteSuch a sad story, especially once I knew it was true. Beautifully written, Mary.
ReplyDeletePatti, They lived on a 400 acre farm , worked it and my grandfather fished when not farming. Tough and isolated way to live as young marrieds.
ReplyDeleteLovely. Sad and lovely. And sadder yet for the truth of it.
ReplyDeleteLou, They went on to have 7 more living children of which my mother was the oldest. But, they had difficult lives.
ReplyDeleteOh, what a sad story! And that heaviness in the arms, that premonition!
ReplyDeleteYou write this with such dignity and poise, love and strength, a true homage to the man and woman portrayed here.
This story reminds me of my parents' suffering when their first two babies died before I was born. I can't imagine such sorrow.
ReplyDeleteSounds so Irish.
ReplyDeleteHi Marry,its so sad,thanks for sharing.
ReplyDeleteThis is an amazingly beautiful pieces of prose. The story is heartbreaking. I am very touched by the way you told this family story.
ReplyDeleteIs this an imagined piece, that his arms were heavy, that she had prayed he'd come back? Incredible.
ReplyDeleteWhen I think of how many tragic losses people used to suffer like this, I can hardly comprehend it.
Wow. I agree with Ruth.
ReplyDeleteWow. And true. How poignant...
ReplyDeletePearl
Rosaria, They were my favorite grandparents.
ReplyDeleteGigi, They had great faith but it was a lot to cope with.
Linda, Actually Scottish living in Cape Breton Island, Nova Scotia.
Sunny, Sad, but resilient people.
Sally, It was the story that sprang to mind when I read the prompt. I remember hearing the story when I was young and feeling sad and admiration for my grandparents.
Ruth, The story I heard had the two elements you mentioned, the heaviness while fishing and my grandmother praying for my grandfather's return. The dialogue was my telling their story in a way to knit the elements. My mother was their next baby. What they endured as a young couple is extraordinary.
This is so sad. What a story...and so beautiful at the same time.
ReplyDeleteI read something so very similar in one of the novels I've enjoyed lately...must be a Celtic thing, that heaviness in the arms premonition of a baby's death. In the novel (and I wish I could remember which it was...might have been by Kent Haruf or Jeffrey Lent) the heaviness of the baby's casket was exactly the same as what the father had felt in the boat.
ReplyDeleteLauren, Simple people coping with their sorrow with dignity.
ReplyDeleteJune, I'd be interested in that novel. I've not. Heard this story except from my mother and aunt.