nodded and no one objected. Apparently religion was okay at a time like this. “I’ll start if you like.”
He cleared his throat again. “Sharon found this hike the hardest of any of us. She’s been in pain since Day One, with her feet ripped to pieces, but she never whinged about it. She had a much harder life than any of us, but she just soldiered on. Her husband took off with some eighteen year old, but she didn’t expect anyone to rescue her. She went to work, she fed her kid, she took her parents to the doctor and the bowls club and the shops. Sharon, thanks for persevering, and for still being our friend after all these years.”
There was a pause.
Adam said, “Shaz, thanks for those fantastic Anzac bikkies you used to make at school.” A little smile of remembrance fluttered around the group.
Rachel spoke up. “Sharon, thanks for being such an encouragement to me on this hike. For making me think sheer determination can get a person through anything. And I promise you I’m going to do the best I can to get home to that boy of yours, and tell him what sort of a person his mother was, and to make sure he is looked after and loved the way he should be.”
They stood around the big orange bag on that icy mountainside, and said goodbye the best they could.
At the end, Jack cleared his throat and prayed aloud, “God, thanks for Sharon and for everything she’s meant to so many people. Forgive us for failing to save her life. Please help her son and her parents to go on when they find out she’s gone. And please help us to get through this thing.”
A couple of the group said, “Amen.” Others nodded respectfully. Kain stared at the ground, silent and withdrawn.
Callie and Rachel gently pulled the sleeping bag hood down over Sharon’s face, and tucked the orange plastic over it, tenderly, firmly, sealing out the elements.
And then they all started walking again.
***
Callie took another step, and the snow’s brittle crust cracked under her weight, allowing her to sink through to the mush underneath. Again. The unseen rock below was at a severe angle, and her ankle twanged as her boot made contact and twisted. Again. Her pants were sodden to knee height, because she just couldn’t stand to wear the waterproof over pants today. Jack had frowned, but she’d ignored him. The squelching noise of them irritated her beyond all reason. Her lower legs were cold to the point of numbness, but she managed to feel hot and bothered just the same. The sun was glaring off the snow, and she thought about removing her jacket, even though in truth the temperature couldn’t have been much above freezing way up here in the tops. But she was afraid that if she stopped for any reason, she’d lose all momentum.
Be thankful it’s stopped snowing today, Callie , she told herself sternly. Be thankful it’s not raining for once. Be thankful you can still walk.
She was also thankful not to be lugging the extra weight of Sharon’s rucksack this morning. It would have been dragging her shoulders down, crashing onto her thighs with every agonized step. But she couldn’t bear to think about the reason she didn’t have to carry it.
Nevertheless, her mind had a will of its own, and kept circling back to Sharon’s face. No matter how she tried to redirect her thoughts onto something nicer, it was like herding cats. They just slipped past her, and wriggled and wormed their way back to have another look at Sharon’s face. The look of it, the feel of it, as she and Rachel had prepared their friend’s body.
No one should ever have to do that for a friend. Too unbearably intimate. Too many liberties to be taken with someone who could no longer give permission.
Trying to tidy Sharon’s hair, all lank and oily because, like the rest of them, she hadn’t been able to wash it for many days. It seemed horrible that they had to leave her looking so awful. Why does the mind latch onto such a trivial thing in the face
He cleared his throat again. “Sharon found this hike the hardest of any of us. She’s been in pain since Day One, with her feet ripped to pieces, but she never whinged about it. She had a much harder life than any of us, but she just soldiered on. Her husband took off with some eighteen year old, but she didn’t expect anyone to rescue her. She went to work, she fed her kid, she took her parents to the doctor and the bowls club and the shops. Sharon, thanks for persevering, and for still being our friend after all these years.”
There was a pause.
Adam said, “Shaz, thanks for those fantastic Anzac bikkies you used to make at school.” A little smile of remembrance fluttered around the group.
Rachel spoke up. “Sharon, thanks for being such an encouragement to me on this hike. For making me think sheer determination can get a person through anything. And I promise you I’m going to do the best I can to get home to that boy of yours, and tell him what sort of a person his mother was, and to make sure he is looked after and loved the way he should be.”
They stood around the big orange bag on that icy mountainside, and said goodbye the best they could.
At the end, Jack cleared his throat and prayed aloud, “God, thanks for Sharon and for everything she’s meant to so many people. Forgive us for failing to save her life. Please help her son and her parents to go on when they find out she’s gone. And please help us to get through this thing.”
A couple of the group said, “Amen.” Others nodded respectfully. Kain stared at the ground, silent and withdrawn.
Callie and Rachel gently pulled the sleeping bag hood down over Sharon’s face, and tucked the orange plastic over it, tenderly, firmly, sealing out the elements.
And then they all started walking again.
***
Callie took another step, and the snow’s brittle crust cracked under her weight, allowing her to sink through to the mush underneath. Again. The unseen rock below was at a severe angle, and her ankle twanged as her boot made contact and twisted. Again. Her pants were sodden to knee height, because she just couldn’t stand to wear the waterproof over pants today. Jack had frowned, but she’d ignored him. The squelching noise of them irritated her beyond all reason. Her lower legs were cold to the point of numbness, but she managed to feel hot and bothered just the same. The sun was glaring off the snow, and she thought about removing her jacket, even though in truth the temperature couldn’t have been much above freezing way up here in the tops. But she was afraid that if she stopped for any reason, she’d lose all momentum.
Be thankful it’s stopped snowing today, Callie , she told herself sternly. Be thankful it’s not raining for once. Be thankful you can still walk.
She was also thankful not to be lugging the extra weight of Sharon’s rucksack this morning. It would have been dragging her shoulders down, crashing onto her thighs with every agonized step. But she couldn’t bear to think about the reason she didn’t have to carry it.
Nevertheless, her mind had a will of its own, and kept circling back to Sharon’s face. No matter how she tried to redirect her thoughts onto something nicer, it was like herding cats. They just slipped past her, and wriggled and wormed their way back to have another look at Sharon’s face. The look of it, the feel of it, as she and Rachel had prepared their friend’s body.
No one should ever have to do that for a friend. Too unbearably intimate. Too many liberties to be taken with someone who could no longer give permission.
Trying to tidy Sharon’s hair, all lank and oily because, like the rest of them, she hadn’t been able to wash it for many days. It seemed horrible that they had to leave her looking so awful. Why does the mind latch onto such a trivial thing in the face
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