NicP

So what?

Nothing. Earth did not make a sound when he gave life up at 03:30 this morning. People are still passing my house on their way to work. Taxis are picking up and dropping off people next to the garage opposite the street. Two petrol attendants warm themselves in the weak winter sun. The stock exchange will open at 10:00. The local newspapers are sold on street corners as usual on a Thursday. Nothing has changed.

But it means something to me.

I have known Aidan’s grandmother for fifty years. She was the girl in the house opposite the street. We went to school together. We kept in touch after school and celebrate 35 years since leaving school this year. She is also the one person in the world that I know who has known little else but pain.

Her mother died when she was about 11 years old. She went through divorce and the death of a husband. Her eldest daughter lives in another country and they have little contact. Her first grandchild lives with the father’s family in yet another country. And more … But she has kept what is left of her family closely together.

Aidan’s mother was a rebel who gave her mother many sleepless nights. But when I saw them on Friday, she expressed her pride in herself that she stopped smoking, did not use alcohol and made a number of changes to her life because of the baby. Aidan’s grandmother expressed her pride in her daughter, who she expected would opt for an abortion because of her rebellious nature. Aidan’s mother decided she would have him. He was born a month too early and spent the two days of his life in ICU.

So what?

Nothing.

It is just that something woke me early this morning and when I looked on the clock in front of my bed, it was 03:30. For some reason I couldn’t sleep until I had to get up at 06:00. This morning my wife complained that she did not sleep well and was awake “since four this morning”.

Nothing changed in the world this morning. Life goes on. Here in South Africa, in New Zealand where my Google daylight map shows it is already evening, in Britain where it is early morning and in the States where the day will break in a few hours.

Because nobody knows, nobody cares.

I don’t know how to alleviate my friend’s pain. I only know I can write. And that is what I do now.

Aidan Byrnes will never experience the wonder of blogging. He will never know that technology enabled uncle Nico to tell the world about his death. He will not have children or grandchildren who will read this. I hope his brothers and sisters who may come after him, will.

The same technology that allows us to tell the world about the atrocities of dictators, allows me to tell the world my friend is hurting.

Aidan Shaun Byrnes: 15:00, 17 June 2008 – 03:30, 19 June 2008.

This entry was posted on Thursday, June 19th, 2008 @ 08:38 on the category Posts. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.