Turning Point
It was going to be just another afternoon in Malta, which, no doubt would be followed by another evening with my friends, drinking, talking and wasting more time; enjoying myself but doing nothing in particular with my life. Perhaps we would drop into the casino or see a film tonight. Who knows, but right then, I was sitting on the sofa while my mother and grandmother sat in front of the fire, talking.
Just how I joined the conversation, I am not sure, but my mother and I began one of our usual arguments. Our positive feelings were rarely shared and we both had a mutual, mistrust of each other. Tonight, my mood was particularly dark and brooding. Depressed and dangerously angry with myself, I struck out at her with stinging words. I had returned to Malta, bored by my job in the City of London where I had been articled to a firm of Chartered accounts. Was it her fault? No. But behind the frustration with my boring job was the resentment at my mother’s infidelity to my father. I blasted my disinterest with life and my hatred of hypocrisy in carefully chosen words which hurt without being obvious. Words flew between us like sparks in a fire becoming hotter and more careless with every exchange. Mum was getting more and more agitated and I could see this arguing was doing no good to anyone.
I got up and left, without looking back, and began to climb the stairs to my room. Then it happened, the moment that changed everything and was eventually to change me, my world and my life from then on.
Before I had even reached the top of the stairs, my grandmother’s voice shrieked “David! Your mother has fainted!”
I rushed back down and entered the room to see mum, sprawled out on the floor. In seconds, I was there, my arms under her and lifting her limp body onto the sofa. I still cannot understand how I found the strength to pick her up but I did it with no problem at all.
My grandmother rushed off to phone for a doctor and I was left bending over my mother’s unconscious body. Memories flooded my mind. From the day I had learnt that she had a lover, my mother and I had rarely managed to talk to each other. I felt sorry for dad and had become very unforgiving and intolerant. It stung me to know I had often eaten and gone clay pigeon shooting with the other man and in fact was quite fond of him before I knew the truth. My religious convictions were few and rather superficial but I had often prayed for a reconciliation between my parents.
The doctors arrived and confirmed my worst fears. She had had a massive stroke and knowing her history of heart attacks, the doctors were not feeling confident. I heard one of them whisper to his colleague. “There is not much hope for her”.
I was deeply upset and a terrible anger rose up inside me. In my heart I turned with complete honesty to address the God I hardly knew.
“I have begged you to bring them together,” I said, “You have done nothing. Now, I can never believe in you”
This was not a threat or ultimatum, but a sad statement of what I saw to be true.
Chapter 2: Accident