Lonely People

Art Of Dying

Everything is an art form. There's an art to life; with every breath you take and every smile you make, you are creating art. Life itself is art, and so is death. The art of dying is simple, all you have to do is leave. Death is more than traveling to the great beyond. The art of dying could end in a casket or never seeing a loved one again.

Regina and Reginald Mackenzie died on the same day. The twins, born just two minutes apart died within two hours of each other. Reginald was still breathing, and would keep breathing for the next seventy years. Yet, he died with his sister.

As soon as she took her last breath, Reginald retreated into himself. He became a hollow shell of what he once was. All of us expected him to have a complete mental breakdown; going on a rampage and hurting himself and those around him, but he simply fell silent. Since that day in 1965, I have only ever heard Reginald Mackenzie say one word: goodbye.

Regina was his only stability. She meant more to him than any of us could ever believe, and her death broke him in ways nobody could understand. He had always been on the edge; threatening to fall over into the abyss of insanity. Back then, mental illness was taboo. It was seen as a danger and the people who suffered it were treated as such. Now, we know differently. Unfortunately, in the time Reginald broke, there was only one thing to do for him.

Reginald wasn't buried, he was admitted to a psychiatric hospital in Blackpool. From what I've seen, they treat their patients well. It is just like a little community where the people who live there can live in peace. Of all the hospitals in the world, that was probably the best. Most hospitals were torture for their patients, but that place, that was a safe haven. Molly made sure that her brother was well taken care of. If anyone had even the inkling of a thought to hurt him, she would be on top of them like a hyena on a carcass. 

Molly had to go and sign the papers, seeing as how she was his closest living kin. I had offered to go with her, but she wanted to do it alone. Perhaps she wanted closure, or, perhaps, she wanted to prove to herself that she could do it.

She hadn't been herself since Regina's passing. Nobody could expect her to bounce back so quickly, or ever again. After losing so much in such a little amount of time, there was no way she could be the same Molly I met on the stairs at school all those years ago. She would change, she had changed, but I still loved her all the same. 

That left me at home with Vera. There was no question, Molly had adopted her the second Regina took her last breath. As Vera's godmother, it was Molly's duty to take care of the child. As Molly's partner, it was both my duty and my pleasure to be with her every step of the way.

"Sleep pretty darling, do not cry," I sang, "And I will sing a lullaby."

Vera was slowly drifting to sleep in my arms. She was a rough sleeper, a trait which we both shared. It took ages to finally get her to sleep and you had to walk on eggshells to make sure she stayed that way. I paced up and down the hall, gently rocking the baby as she drifted into a deep sleep.

Molly and I had quickly arranged a nursery in Janice's old bedroom. We had a hastily built crib and a small changing table. Overtime, it would grow into the model nursery. We had barely an hour to assemble that. Luckily, Cynthia had kept Julian's old crib and was kind enough to loan it to us until we could get our own. Maureen and Ringo had brought a singing teddy bear and Paul had given us a set of baby clothes. Even George and Pattie had brought over a gift, a set of bottles which we desperately needed. Just from the kindness of our mates, we had everything we needed for the time being.

I laid Vera in her crib and smiled slightly. She looked so peaceful when she slept. Overall, she was a happy baby, she only cried when she was hungry or tired. She was inquisitive too, always looking around and searching for something new to explore. Whenever she learned to crawl, Molly and I would have our work cut out for us.