Throwback Thursday: ‘Love’ by Greg Brown

Death and Love

Back in 2018 Greg Brown’s ‘Bear’ from Issue 14, and ‘Love’, from Issue 16, were both longlisted for the Writers’ Trust Journey Prize. ‘Love’ made it to the final three. Below is an excerpt of that poignant short story of a family coming together around the deathbed, and here is an interview with Greg. You can also pick up Issue 16, Autumn 2017,  on sale for the throwback price of $8 till the end of the month.

Love

Greg Brown

We agreed as a family that the only thing to do was to bring Mom home for the next few months or weeks, whatever it would be.  It’ll be hard, Dad said.  But maybe it can be fine, too.  Denisa was suspicious about the cost of it all — like the private nurse we’d have to pay for, where at the hospital it was free — although she didn’t put it like that, said that we’d be crazy to bring Mom into a place where there wasn’t any immediate care, because what if there was a problem like before, the thing with her stent that plugged up and caused some internal bleeding that almost wasn’t staunched in time?

She could’ve, Denisa said.

The oncologist had said October, and the late pale fog had come and now the sky was mostly dimmed and gone by suppertime.

I said that I would only do it if we agreed that Pastor Karen would not come to the house; I was not comfortable with Pastor Karen coming to the house.  Jon and Dad looked at me a moment and said, Okay.

Denisa said, I don’t get what you don’t like about Pastor Karen.

And I explained why I didn’t like Pastor Karen.

And Denisa said, Well I don’t think it’s really fair to call her a liar.

And I explained why I thought it was fair to call Pastor Karen a liar.

And Denisa said, Well, by that standard they’re all liars.  And then we’d all be liars, too.  The whole thing would be a lie.  We don’t need lies right now.

And I agreed with Denisa, especially about how we didn’t need lies right now.

And Denisa said, It doesn’t matter, because who cares what we know and don’t know.  If mom wants her to visit, then she visits.

I said, I care.

And Denisa said, You’re unbelievable.

The family counsellor in the palliative care ward arranged for the hospital to loan us one of their extra beds, and then one of the RNs in the palliative care ward arranged for a delivery service to bring the bed by and for the ambulance service to drive Mom from the hospital.  We watched, standing far clear of the foyer, uncertain about how wide a berth to give, as the ambulance attendants bounced the gurney over the uneven tile in the kitchen. 

You’re home, Dad said, as the attendants rolled Mom from the gurney into the special hospital bed.  Mom looked up and smiled and didn’t say anything.

Read the rest of the story in Issue 16, Autumn 2017 …

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