The realisation of justhow tightly wasnt apparent until I released my grip...I could barelybreathe! It felt as though my entire torso was trapped in ... vice,constricted...bound. It took all of my concentration to balance,breathing was a conscious effort, my calves were on fire...anduncontrollably, totally beyond my will, the swelling and throbbing in mygroin was mounting by the second. I got the tape from a drawer, barelyable to bend forward at the waist to pick it up, and presented it to. Goin’ home. I’m a-goin’ home.Quiet-like some still day, I’m just goin’ home.It’s not far, just close by, through an open door.Work all done, cares laid by, goin’ to roam no more;Mother’s there ‘xpecting me, father’s waiting, too,Lots of folks gathered there, all the friends I knew.Morning star lights the way, restless dream all done.Shadows gone, break of day, real life just begun.There’s no break, there’s no end, just a-living on;Wide awake, with a smile, going on and on.Going home. Going. The mini estate turned out to be a spur of the moment purchase made by Andrea when she decided to consider life without me in her immediate circle. When I met the neighbors on the south side of the property, they informed me that the former occupants were, “not OUR kind of people.” That meant I wasn’t their kind of people either, a fact I was quite content to embrace. Stuck up snobs didn’t impress me, and their joy at acting superior was quickly tempered when they discovered the Rolls I bought. She talks and talks and every once in awhile, she’ll ask Mike a question. It’s always about something fun that we have planned for his next visit. But Mike isn’t talking. Not a bit. Not one word. He sits like a stone and Mom doesn’t seem to notice. She just keeps talking and talking and talking… * * * * * * * * * * ‘Here we are,’ she says. We turn into the driveway and follow the fence that separates the hospital grounds from the golf course. ‘There’s your little friends, Mike. They’ve come out.
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