Magh Mell

It’s peculiar to think that you can know you’re going to die, but never know that you’ve died. Terence never realised he had died. I think back a bit about the way things were between us during his last few weeks, I was very angry with him, I still am when I remember it, you know 10 days before he died he was still yelling vicious, petty abuse at Robyn and I. Robyn said to me that we both now feel like we can entertain people as a family now, because with Terence it was like socialising whilst trying to hide a big secret, you can’t be totally comfortable, you’re always aware, waiting for something to set him off, fearing and anticipating it. I hated Christmas, because of Terence, because he was so fucking petty, uncontrolled and proud in the most useless way, reasoning only did so much. I was terrified of him taking a drink, terrified, little boy terrified, that horrible overwhelming type where you feel weak and at the mercy of others, I was scared though not for what he would say or do to me, but for what could happen to him. That’s how fucked the situation was, he was horrible to Robyn when he drank, Terence blamed most of the problems in his life on her, made up problems which his paranoia allowed him to believe whole-heartedly, if Robyn left him, which she should have done but didn’t because she has a sense of care and duty that doesn’t belong to this period, but if she did, he’d be, dangerous, he might try and attack or kill a certain man I can think of, he would have no wealth of his own so he’d be destitute, he’d certainly go back to drinking and I say this not as a scared son but as the person who understood him best, he would’ve tried to suicide, I have no doubt in my head about that. So my position, was to try and protect him from himself, whilst Robyn was the one taking the abuse, and hoping on one hand that she’d leave him because she deserved so much better and had tolerated so much, whilst knowing that if she did it was basically a death sentence for him, emotionally, socially and physiologically. That was the hardest thing for me, I appreciate that’s not much by standards, I appreciate I’ve lived a ridiculously privileged life, but the toll that took on me mentally was enormous. Protect someone by tolerating the continued abuse of another… If you have any decency you can see how fucking daunting and destructive that can be.

Being a son, is not an easy thing.

I was reading about Magh Mell, a sort of Gaelic paradise, translated it means ‘Plain of Joy’ where your youth and beauty is eternal, where music and pleasure is brought together and celebrated. It’s cliche I guess but it fits Terence well, that would be paradise for him.