[part 1 is here ]

[updated Sunday 18th Feb]

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Tags: love, stories

Death is a fundamental process  in life. It is not the opposite of life.

I want to talk about change, the ending of things, and the fundamental role that grief plays in allowing life to continue.

With change comes loss. Inevitably. Even change for the better results in the loss of little things. I blogged about this in a post three years ago and conceded this point to k-punk after initially reacting aggressively to the idea that progress involved death. Death is fundamentally frightening, and hence it is unpleasant to associate death with things we consider positive.

I will avoid becoming too specific in this post, as the various parties involved in inspiring this thinking would be justifiably sensitive about my going into details. However, I am a firm believer in examples, so I will conclude with a short story.

Nephew the Squirrel was a research scientist at a top-secret government genetic research facility. One day, a batch of acorn tests got mixed up with a batch of squirrel scouting micro-cyborg embryos and a week later, a set of these hybrid eggs hatched in the incubator.  I don't have to tell you that the results were ugly - all of the specimens died within hours of emerging from the thin shells - some were all pericarp, some were cotyledons with one or two twisted legs, some had eyes, some didn't. They all lived short lives in tremendous pain - they were definitely in pain - all the scientists could see. Some of them cried when they saw the little blighters writhing about like that.

But there was one specimen, Stemley, who survived. And it was the most beautiful creature that Nephew had ever seen. He had a perfectly smooth outer shell, with acorn-veins describing perfectly symmetrical fractal lines, giant inquisitive glistening robot eyes, and smooth, strong little fingers that would grip Nephew's finger with an imploring, desperate pressure that made his squirrel heart melt.

The lab was not interested in keeping Stemley alive, but they let Nephew take it home.

After a week, Stemley became ill and Nephew took it back to the lab where it was diagnose with a weak cupule duct. This could be remedied if Nephew worked late on an appropriate nano-agent that would swim inside Stemley and tidy up his fraying fibers. So Nephew worked into the night and came home the next morning with a cure for Stemley, who was soon gurgling with his old vigour. Nephew was overjoyed, and rather proud of his technical abilities, and vowed to spend more time with Stemley  from then on. He saw Stemley as his son, and loved him as much as any human father might love their human son.

Then tragedy struck again. A complication arose with Stemley's circulatory system. Stemley cried all night, and Nephew took him back into the lab. Eventually the problem was diagnosed, but this time the cure would come at a high price. But Nephew was happy to pay - even though it was 6 months' salary - he had to borrow money from the squirrel bank - and Stemley was cured once again.

From then on, Nephew dedicated even more time to keeping his son happy and comfortable, but had become increasingly paranoid about his son's condition, and would often bring him into the lab even though there was no real problem. His colleagues started worrying about him.

But one time Nephew brought his son in, they realised that there really was a serious problem. Stemley was going to die. He could be kept alive if Nephew continued to devote even more time and pay even more money, but his decline was inevitable. For six months Nephew spent more and more of his time dedicating himself to Stemley's problems, and was running up debt like you wouldn't believe. He was crying a lot too. His colleagues became increasingly worried about him, and they all tried to help, but he always just said 'don't worry  about me, it's going to be fine, I'm going to find a way to cure Stemley and then he is going to grow up to be strapping government agent  - the best there's ever been - I tell you  - just let me work'. Nephew was falling behind with his job, and his manager kept having to have talks. But Nephew always thought that the cure was just around the corner.

But it was no good. Stemley couldn't make it, and in his last night alive Nephew was with him all night, reading to him and telling him it was all going to be alright. But in the morning, Stemley's big intelligent sad eyes closed for the last time. Nephew cried and cried and cried. So hard that he thought his eyes would come out of their sockets. He was so tired, and his body hurt, and he couldn't think. He cried himself to sleep in the other room while Stemley's body lay quietly. Stemley's mouth was smiling, because when he died he had been so happy that his daddy loved him so much.

When Nephew woke up, he looked around and realised his flat was a total mess. He looked in the mirror and saw that he was in a total state. Unshaven, haggard - he hadn't washed for a couple of days he'd been so worried about Stemley. But somewhere inside him there was a sense of relief. He took a deep breath and began shaving (in as much as it is sensible for a squirrel to have a shave). He had a shower, and he fluffed up his tail a bit. He took another deep breath and went next door. He covered Stemley's face with the sheet, and wrapped him up to bring him back to the lab (he'd had to keep Stemley's existence very hush-hush - it was a very top-secret facility). He was sort of glad that he didn't have to lie to his friends about what he was doing any more.

His colleagues said they were very sorry, and some of them cried. They were all very proud of Nephew and impressed that he had looked after Stemley so well and for so long. They told Nephew he looked better somehow, and although he didn't like them to say that, because his son had just died, he thanked them.

One of his colleagues from the other lab, Nexty Squirrel, said that she was really proud of Nephew. She said she'd seen him working all night and felt really terrible now that Stemley was dead. Nephew said would you like to go for a coffee and Nexty said yes.

[continues in part 2]

Tags: death, life, stories
Current Mood: optimistic
Current Music: Stereolab - Dots and Loops