Tessa, Tess,Trixie, Theresa
16.10.1958 - 07.07.2019
Last night I had gone to bed. Around 10:30 pm I heard a rap on my door. Nobody calls on me this late. I began to think that it might be my neighbour might be in distress, or needing me to remove a slowworm from her house. In case of this, I went to see.
It was a neighbour, a man who I know, and know to live three doors away. He looked apologetic for calling late, as I know him not to be so inconsiderate, I realised he had something urgent to say.
'Tess died on Sunday', he blurted out.
I invited him in. We sat on opposing sofas and I was a bit blurry with having been nearly asleep.
He gave me some details and it took a while for it to sink in. Part of me was not surprised. I had been on 'our beach' on Saturday, with a friend, and was recollecting last summer, when Trixie and I used to go to swim and chat and sunbathe. I was living between places, at the time. Some of the week at my parents (on nursing shifts) and some at home. We would go to the beach to recharge and enjoy the sea and beach. I was recollecting some fond memories and began to wonder how she was doing. I wondered momentarily if she had passed away.
I had told him about how things had got out of control and that she was such a fun lovely lady, but unfortunately also a chronic alcoholic - which took it's toll on our friendship, quite considerably.
I had to walk away from our friendship in the early October of last year, and it was a difficult judgement call to make. The toxicity of alcoholism is such that it creates toxicity within friendships and relationships. Alcohol addiction is a sorry place to live.
There was a huge discrepancy that occurred between us, and it requires a lot of strength to walk away from a person whom you are fond of/love - especially in this case, wherein I had helped her with many situations, over and over. My friend Ellen and I had once taken her to the drying out clinic and signed her in, on her behalf and request. There was nothing else that we felt we could do, at this time.
I continued to keep an eye, and I would often go over and play cards with her, or just an evening of music and chat. And this is the thing, Tess could be great company, vivacious and fun, dry and sarcastic, bright and clever, unapologetically 'Leopard print, pink and bling'.
Tess, on a good day was the best sister, best fun girlfriend and the most brutally honest. She loved animals and loved to help - if she could.
On a bad day, when she was intoxicated - I would not like to describe, because it would be unfair. To put it bluntly, Tess was not a well or happy little bunny. She used alcohol to mask this...and then she would take it overboard and turn into something quite unrecognisable. On these instances, I did not like who she was, but I knew that it was the alcohol and her intoxication. I continually forgave her for behaviour that was no good, I continually attempted to help her and encourage her to be more aware of the issue at hand. I came up with solutions. I wanted to see her happier, who wouldn't?
In the Summer of 2018 Tess became more addicted to dating sites. She wanted me to sign up, and I explained why I did not have the remotest inclination. To try it - as I believe in trying most things once - I signed up to one, mainly to experience the experience. Don't knock it till you try it. After a few days, I found it tiresome and dull, a bit perverse, sleazy and also rather mockingly funny. I realised, soon, that dating sites are a cattle market and that the majority of members are looking for an easy fuck. Excuse the plainness of speech, but in my observations, that is largely what dating sites are all about. Keeping it real, why don't I?
As much as I warned her of the dangers of these sites and the danger that she may be subjecting herself to, there was little point convincing her otherwise.
I became a bone of contention, on some occasions, when I was in her sitting room, she would pan her camera phone to me, while chatting with one of her 'fellas'. I was very irritated by this...an saw that it was quite harmless, even though it made me somewhat uncomfortable.
In time, Tess had introduced me to one of her 'fellas', and made a few allusions to a more than one party situation...again, I felt insulted and annoyed, but knowing that she could not fathom why I would not be party to any kind of online association, I kinda let her get on with it for her own amusement. Whatever rocks your boat, honey : {
During these summer months, I was not coping well, emotionally and I was often on the edge of tears - while watching my mothers cancerous ridden body falling slowly and more deeply into death.
I could not be the life and soul, that sunny person with enthusiasm and generosity of spirit all of the time. I needed a shoulder myself. I had some degree of help and support from friends - but mainly, I was pretty much on my own.
One afternoon, when she had seen me upset enough, Tess claimed and suggested that I was not that close to my mother and that I should not be affected so strongly. I took immediate offence. Not close? How much closer can you be to another human? She birthed me, she gave me life...serious? Not that close? This comment was so extraordinarily indigestible, that I was on the verge of blaspheming (I rarely do so, and only when I feel super exasperated and super incensed by lack of insensitivity) Hearing this made me want to screech, 'Jesus Christ, woman..WTF kind of statement is that?'
Needless to say, I was upset, I was exhausted form the nursing shifts, juggling home, family and suitcase living. I was a tad tetchy.
I let it go. She had no idea about what it was like to watch your own mother decaying in front of your eyes, close up and personal. I couldn't expect her to know. When someone demands that you 'pull yourself together', because they cannot imagine how you are feeling...you let it go, and understand that they are not living your life, your emotions or your inner turmoil.
On shift, during those months, I had to hold onto my resolve not to break, outburst, dissolve. Our family had our roles and we were to diligently fulfil them, as best we could. Death, in a family can bring out the very best and the very worst in people. I just wanted to keep my balance so that I could be useful. In any case, looking at mum, slowly moving towards death, who was I to complain? It's a leveller. Death is a leveller.
This was not the main discrepancy, one that I could not overlook. It transpired that Trixie liked to take panorama videos of the beach. Both of us thought that we had found a gem of a spot along the Sussex coast, and truth be told, we had.
The only visitors to the beach were intermittent dog owners with their pooches, a quick dip, and off again. We began to refer to this patch of beach as 'our spot' and 'our beach'. It became that way. All we knew was that we had great fun and many moments of enjoyment on that spot. We often went topless, because neither of us like the white 1970's bikini white flash marks on our breasts. French women do topless. They have a 'no body hang-up' (non corps accroche) mentality. Why have a body hang-up? We all have a body of some or other description and I am very grateful for mine. It works. They are our vehicles.
The beach was mainly desolate and no one was looking. I joked that toplessness is a good deterrent. Many folk would get to the beach, see us, and leave with a kind of 'no boobs please, we are British' look. Or 'we are not sure where to look, apart from your boobs'. We found great fun and sport in this. So uptight! Mammaries are mammaries. Fifty percent of the population have them...and they are a part of the female anatomy...yes, really, they are. I'm not joking. That is what they are. I have had mine for nearly forty years. They go everywhere with me. They are a part of me, as much as my eyes, nose, legs.
Part of the fun, on our excursions, was taking the 'Lemon Bus' and the new improved 'solar powered Lemon bus', to our beach stop and then home again. On a few occasions the driver let me on free, which caused a bit of schoolgirl-jealous-nose-snearing on my account (not my fault if the driver fancies me : { If he's got good taste ; )
She would take the piss, and I would tease her about the local carvery-chef fancying her, and giving her freebies - while completely ignoring me. That's how we were. She would laugh at my expense. I would tease her too. Our bickering was always in good humour.
Sadly, a line was crossed. A discrepancy. One of her beach videos, unbeknown to me, actually included me. Unbeknown to me, dear Tess had started to send the footage to her date site buddies. I did not know. I discovered, quite by chance, through an online dater...with whom I had some tech business, some things in common and had visited at his home.
He had waited weeks to inform me. He had eventually thought that I had the right to know, knowing that I would be upset. He showed it to me. I felt severely stabbed, deeply annoyed, deceived, invaded, upset, disrespected, reviled, disappointed and my trust was breached. Over all, I could not understand it. The motive, the point, the stupidity.
I gave it some thought, and eventually I went to the authorities. There was little else to do. I was informed that it was not a prosecutable offence and the most that could be suggested was 'an invasion of personal privacy'. I was in agreement with this. It was.
Now, whether I was in the wrong or the right, all I could do was insist that it would never happen again.
Drastic. Not really, it was all I had to go with. I saw it as a serious invasion of my privacy and done without my consent or knowledge. I still do not know how widely the footage circulated and how often. That was a big "NO" from me.
I consider myself to be a very forgiving person. I let things slide. I give chances, I expect that chances given are only to allow for some kind of correction. I have a limit button. More like a switch. It goes from 'ON' to 'OFF' in a nano second. The straw, the camel, the back. If that straw breaks me into some kind of repellent action, drastic though it might seem, it is because I have decidedly drawn that line..... to protect myself. It takes a lot to break a camel's back, a lot to break mine...but when it's about to crack...the line in the sand, is the one that I have to draw. It's a reflex within me.
MLVC said, 'If you let someone off once, you are allowing for them to behave badly again'. Truth. So why did I allow it? Chances. I believe in chances. I believe not to judge those who sin differently to you, I believe we all sin everyday, I believe we are all flawed human beings. We have a bad wolf and a good wolf and it all depends on which wolf we feed. God and the Devil. We can chose to be entertained by devilish behaviour or we can chose not to. Really, we have free will and our choices affect our karma. Of course.
And as I still do not judge a person (I sin differently, I'm in no position to judge) for unacceptable behaviour, but I know when I have to protect myself. And this brings me full circle back to alcoholic addiction problems. It's a sickness, and an illness and it's very damaging to the individual and to those around them. Alcoholics deceive, because they deceive themselves in thinking that they do not have an addiction. They often use alcohol to drown out feelings, or pain, or loneliness. I understand the illness. I know how it works. Alcoholism means intoxication. Intoxication means toxic and toxicity is not a happy place to live.
I have no axes to grind with any single individual on the planet, and I probably never will, but I know when to walk away. When to swim and not to get sucked into a toxic whirlpool of another's drama or toxicity.
Life is too short.
There is one guarantee in life, and that is death. I count my blessings and 'For the grace of God go I'. My number could come up at any time. I am well aware. Tess was 7 years my senior. She was 60 last year. I have lost four friends in the last twenty-four months and my mother. Welcome to the era of funerals, for a day out : }
I'm not being trite, it's that they seem to have been the only significant events in my life recently. Could be mine next month? Or yours, yours, or yours. For the grace of God go I.
And forgiving and not forgetting Tessa, the deeply unhappy lost cute soul, often adrift, always as thoughtful as she could be, always struggling with alcoholism, depression and loneliness.
I notified my friend Ellen - who still suffers after the loss of her daughter, Georgia (a greatly vibrant soul) She was pleased that I had told her. She was of the same mind, an unhappy little girl. I prefer to refer to her as a very unhappy little bunny. A misfit. A sweetie, and all adrift. A fairy cuaght in the brambles.
I spent the afternoon and evening, today, on 'our spot/beach'.
With me, not by design, I had a pair of sandals that I used to loan to Tess - (they seemed to have ended up in my beach bag) - and I held my own private vigil. Remembering Tess.
I sat in memory land and prayed for her soul to be at peace. I wish this for her. I wish here peace, and her family. I wish strength for Emily, her girl.
Lovely hot mess Tess. I only remember the good times. I will always think of those times. Peace, my friend. Just peace.
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