Daughter of the Waves

Please Don't Go

We rushed to Eilish's little house, to find that that a few neighbours had put her in bed and made her comfortable. My mother set to work immediately, examining her thoroughly and asking questions of the neighbours who were present. One said she had clutched her heart before she collapsed, another that she had lost the power of speech before losing consciousness. We could not get a straight answer. At length Ma pronounced: "It is probably just old age. I do not think I can do anything for her. We will just have to wait and see if she recovers. 

Eilish was moved into our house so that Aalith could better care for her. For weeks she languished, somewhere between life and death. I rarely left her side, holding her hand and telling her the stories she had told me. In my childish imagination, I believed this would bring her back to me. Sean came asking for me but I refused to play with him as I usually did. 

Sometimes she seemed to improve, her breathing and her heartbeat became stronger, which gave us hope. We were all very sad, and my mother spoke often of her kindness to her when she had first arrived in the village, a stranger. 

She lingered this way, between life and death, for weeks. Then one night, when my little family was gathered around her bed, my mother tending to her and my father playing his fiddle softly while I held her hand, she woke up. 

I realised it first. I felt her slack grip on my hand tighten ever so slightly, and a moan escaped her lips. Then her eyes opened, though they stayed unfocused. "Ma!! I called, come quickly, Grandma Eilish is waking up!"

Mother was so shocked she dropped the little glass vial of medicine she was holding, and it smashed into a million shards of glass, releasing an acrid smell into the room. No one cared, we were so excited to see a change in our old friend. 

Da stopped playing immediately and bent over her, calling her name and rubbing her hands, while my mother swiftly took her vital signs. She shakily released her hand from my fathers grip and put it to my face. 

"Roisin..." She croaked hoarsely. "I'm here, grandmother, we're all here!" Three anxious faces learned over her sick bed. 

"Roisin." She said again. "I have something to tell you." Her voice was barely above a whisper. She was clearly using up all her strength to tell me something. 

"Beloved granddaughter, I must leave you now. Be a good girl, and remember when trouble comes to be strong. There is much you don't know about the world, and about yourself." My childish mind could not imagine what trouble she meant, but I promised her anyway, begging her to stay with us. She gently told me she could not.  

Then she switched her gaze from me to a dark corner of the room.  "Aoife." She said softly, and with such longing that I turned to look. As I did, the dark corner began to lighten, and the figure of a beautiful young girl with red gold hair began to materialise in front of my eyes. 

"You see her too, don't you, darling girl?" I said I could, and so did my mother. My father wore a puzzled expression. "She has come to take me with her, to a place where there is no more sickness, no more old age. You will go there one day too, do not be afraid." The spectre of the young woman held out her hand, with a look of love in her eyes, and I saw Eilish rise up off the bed and join hands with the young woman. As she did so she began to look younger and younger, until she was the same age as the mysterious figure. Then they disappeared. All that was left was the body of the old Eilish, lying peacefully on the bed. 

My mother swiftly examined her and confirmed what we already knew. She was gone. We all wept inconsolably for the lost member of our little family. 

With his usual spite, Father Kelly refused to bury Eilish in consecrated ground, so we reluctantly came up with an alternative. We would bury her at sea. She had always loved the sea, so it felt right. Da made his old fishing boat watertight again, and we solemnly wrapped her body in a linen shroud. We then set off from the shore, a few loyal friends from the village following behind in their boats. We were grateful for their company. My mother seemed hesitant at first, but as we grew farther from the shore she began to change, almost imperceptibly. I sensed, rather than saw, a glow about her, and I wondered but did not ask questions. I think that even at that age, when it seemed that all I did was ask questions, I did not want the answer to this one. 

When we were out beyond the breakers, in deep water, my father stopped rowing and we all said our goodbyes to our old friend, simply, and without ceremony. I secretly thought she would like that more than a church service. I had never known her to be very religious, but still the priests actions had shocked me. 

Then, when we had finished, my mother stretched her hands out over the cold body, and began chanting in a tongue I had never heard her use before. The chant was brief, but full of grief, and it raised the hairs on the back of my neck. 

Then gently, when Ma had finished, Da pushed Eilish's earthly remains over the side of the boat, and we were done. We made our way back to shore in silence.