Chapter 13 dying

I'm getting closer and closer to the finish line... I'm reminded of our small villa "Beausoleil" facing the sea, the large balcony windows overlooking the sea, the side windows overlooking a field of yellow narcissus called "Sun", the pine forest and the sea directly opposite .On days when the sky was blue, the waves came with their white manes shaking as if they were going to come over the balcony and into his room.There are many potted flowers in his room, often blooming beautiful flowers.I asked him, "Why can't you bloom like them?" What a wonderful and strange time it was.One day a lovely big cat with yellow and white spots came into the room.Lawrence threw it out.He said, "We don't need the cat. Because if we go, it will be miserable. We don't want to be responsible for it." However, the cat said nothing to go.The cat's name is Mickey.It grows more beautiful.In terms of dexterity, there is no cat like it... Mickey and I played hide and seek.Lawrence played with him as a mouse...Lawrence was a pretty confident mouse...he said once, "Be sure to let him go outside at night. Otherwise he's going to be a bourgeois, ugly cat." So every night I, Regardless of Mickey's protest, Yu couldn't bear to push it into the courtyard.Then Laurence said to Madame Muldoon, the cook, "Give him something to eat. He will sleep with me. Madame will play with him."

At dawn, Mickey and I went to Lawrence's room.Mickey jumped on Lawrence's bed and played with his toes.I will see how his condition is.He was at his worst when he coughed badly before dawn.That way I'll know what's going on with him throughout the night.However, after dawn, he was glad that he had won another day.He said, "I'm going out when the sun comes up." I went to him and he was very happy.He said, "Look, I've got another day." The sun rose from the direction of the bay directly opposite his bed, wrapped in red and yellow, it was a spectacular sight.The figure of the fishermen standing on the fishing boat is like a long-standing mythical figure against the dazzling sea and sky.I asked him, "How was last night?" He reassured me, "It's nothing serious..." But the truth is that he's hurting so badly... In this world he loves so much, he's doing his best to The courage and perseverance to live longer also inspired me.No matter how bad his health was, no matter how much he suffered, he would never allow his days to be low, blue and boring...these last months had the magic of a rosy sunset...my last days for him were There is nothing but awe to be felt like the afterglow of the setting sun... The setting sun covers all the ugliness of the landscape.In this way, the ugly parts of our lives are completely erased.He said to me, "Why did we fight like that?" At that moment, I realized how badly our terrible fight had hurt him.However, I replied to him, "Can people as arrogant as us not quarrel?"

One day, Madame Garvier's charming elderly mother, who lived at the Hotel Beaurivage, brought two goldfishes in a basin and said, "Enjoy Monsieur." But that Mickey thought it was "for Cat relieves boredom".It stared at the red goldfish swimming in the glass tank with an incredible gaze that only cats can have.This made my life uneasy.I had to move the goldfish to a small sunny table in the bathroom.Change the water every morning, and it takes half an hour to change the water.Water is all food for goldfish, we don't feed anything.Despite this, the goldfish visibly grew up.I pleaded with Lawrence, "They're all fat, plants, cats, goldfish. Why don't you get fat?" He replied, "I think so too. I think I can get fat."

His friend Earl Brewster came in every day and gave him coconut oil massages... I, it was sad to see Lawrence's strong, straight, lithe legs thinning out.He said to me one day, "I've always relied on your instincts to determine what's right. But now you don't seem to know anything..." I don't know...I don't know anything anymore. One night he asked me to sleep with him.I did.All night I felt his pain.He also must have felt my healthy body sleeping next to him with a very pitiful mood all night.I used to be able to comfort him and put him at ease when I slept next to him.But now I can't do it.His life began to fall, and I was full of vitality, but I was alone...

Mickey is always eyeing the goldfish.One sad afternoon tea time, the bathroom door was left open.I went to have a look, and both goldfish were thrown to the floor.It was Mickey who pulled them out of the vat.I hurriedly put the goldfish into the tank.One fish survived and the other died.Lawrence is particularly angry with Mickey."It knows we don't want it to bother the goldfish, and it knows it very well. We raise it and take care of it, and it has no right to do that," he said. I explained to him that this is the nature of cats, that they cannot but obey their instincts.He turned to me and said, "That's your fault. You spoiled him. If he wanted to eat me, you'd let him do that too." Afterwards, he didn't let the rice eat for four or five days. Key approached him.

I thought, "I can't do anything for Lawrence anymore. Only the sun, the sea, the night sky, the stars, the moon are a part of him..." He didn't let the windows close or hang the curtains so he could see the sky at night .At that time, he wrote the Book of Revelation.He read it to me, his voice still so powerful.So I said, "That's brilliant." I was reading the New Testament at the time, so I said to Lawrence, "I'm going to meet a lot of resistance in the future, just like riding Azir in the desert." He read to me what he had written, but he was offended by the jumble of inexplicable symbolic descriptions.

He said, "After reading this book, I want to go back to ancient times, to the time before the Bible, to see what people liked and how they lived." His inner pure artist rebelled!Not once did his sense of the fitness of things bother him!Because of his obsession with a sense of moderation, I've been intrigued many times by people criticizing him...the criticism thing only marks the boundaries between critics and them.If the critic is an interesting person, his criticism is interesting; if not, listening to him is a waste of time.If he is stating general opinion, he is still a boring man.Because we know too much about general perception to want to know anymore.Lawrence sometimes said, "My flesh and my bones are getting looser and looser."

One day, Lawrence said to himself, "I don't deserve to die... If I could be rich now... Things would be better and I would be better off." However, I think that even with a million or two million Can ten thousand yuan change him? One day he said, "I can't die. Can't die. I hate those guys in society. I give so much and what do I get in return?" Because of the comical tone of his voice, I didn't notice the depth of pathos and anguish in his words.So I said, "No, Lawrence, you don't hate people in society deeply." It was like reassuring him.

I still feel incredible and grateful for the superhuman strength that was given to both of us at that time.Inside I know, "There's something going on. We're going somewhere." All our nerves, all our thoughts, all our feelings are tense... No matter what it becomes, life must continue happily. After Dr. Max Moore left, there were no doctors left, but Madame Muldoon, the cook.She is very familiar with all kinds of decoctions, inhalation medicines, and plasters, and she is a good cook. My only regret is that there is no open fireplace, only central heating.But, God bless, the sun shines in all day.Lawrence wanted to go for a walk. He had amazing perseverance, but his body couldn't control him, so he was in a hurry.Even if I take him out, it is the junction to the seaside path.Walk a few feet and he will suffer greatly.What a tenacious effort he had made to regain his health.He took his frail, emaciated body very seriously.From this we can learn from him how to deal with our complex bodies.He knows his own instincts, what is good for him, what is necessary for him, and he is absolutely right.Otherwise, he would have died years ago.I'm going to keep him alive at any cost.Although I can't help but watch him approaching the end day by day, but because his spirit is full of vigor and agitation, I don't seem to have the concept of end and death.

At that time, Gertler called a doctor friend of his to us.The doctor diagnosed Lawrence and said that the only way to save him was to go to a sanatorium at a higher altitude. In recent years, I have found that breathing the alpine air for a while before going to the sea is the best thing for Lawrence.Lawrence was always terrified of nursing homes.We both hated it there.He loves freedom most!He never considered himself a patient, and neither did I!As long as I am by his side, as long as his spirits are uplifted, he will never have the sighing and pitiful feeling of a patient!So far, though, we've had to do what we're told... Lawrence asked me to take all his manuscripts to my bedside in a serious manner.He tidied them up neatly.He also helped with luggage.I tried not to cry... His self-demand and my admiration for his perseverance made me strong.Finally one day, the car arrived at the door of our little home "Beausoleil"... Mickey was taken away by Axel Brewster.Before we set off, she brought us handfuls of almonds.Earl Brewster was with us...Lawrence, obediently, with hopeless silence, embarked on the journey.At Toulon station he had to climb up and down the stairs, using up strength he was desperately struggling to avoid.Then, bumping on the train, began the long journey from Antibes to Vence ... and then he had to climb the stairs again.There he lay in a blue room with yellow curtains, large open windows and a balcony overlooking the sea.Numerous doctors came to diagnose him and asked him various questions about his condition.He replied, "I had bronchitis two weeks ago."

Although he was thin, he never lost his dignity for a moment.He has been fighting without losing any hope.Many friends came to see him with pink and red flowers and fruits...but his pain was getting worse.I said "good night" to him, and he said, "I'll be at Waterloo many times before daybreak." I couldn't understand the meaning of that at all.So he said to my daughter one day, "Your mother doesn't care about me anymore. Your mother hates my inner death." However, this was said when he was in extreme pain...he didn't want to eat and was in great pain...we racked our brains to figure out what kind of food would be good for him.His friends di Chiala, Brewster, the Huxley couple Aldas and Maria, Italau and others all came to take care of him. Wells came to visit, and Aga Kahn came with his lovely wife.Joe Davidson had a bust of him. One night I saw him urgently begging me to come to him, and came to him just after supper, and said, "I'll sleep in your room tonight." His eyes were shining with gratitude.He turned in my daughter's direction and said, "Not always. I want your mother here tonight." I slept on the couch in the ward.I looked at the dark night sky, hoping that even the twinkling of a star would comfort me.However, not a single star could be seen.The night sky is vast and boundless, but there are no stars, no moon.I knew Lawrence was in pain, but there was nothing I could do.I have been depressed for several days and nights in a row.My legs were almost numb and I couldn't leave his side.One night I thought about things from long ago, when I loved him and when I poured out love for him that I hadn't tasted before.He took my two young girls and I for a walk in Sherwood Forest.We crossed a few fields.Children run there.Later we came to the small river... The small river flows swiftly under the small stone bridge.The speed of the water is too fast to scare the children.Lawrence completely forgot about me, and he picked a daisy and threw it into the river on one side of the bridge and said, "Look, do you see the flowers float over there?" He also folded a small paper boat for the children, put a lighted match in it, and said, "This is the Spanish fleet. It's a pity you don't know what the Spanish fleet is." My sister immediately said, "No, I know." Squatting I can still vividly remember him playing this kind of game by the river, looking very young and alert, and the appearance of his daughters in red and white patterned tops, with long legs like ponies, and dancing with their friends. .However, this is very early.This, I think, is what is called a "sex maniac". For several nights I slept on the rattan chair.I heard the coughing of the old and the coughing of the young from many wards.In the ward next to his was a young girl with her mother.I heard my daughter yell, "Mom, I'm so sick." Since Lawrence is deaf, I'm glad he can't hear those voices.One day he tried to comfort me by saying, "You don't have to be so sympathetic to the sick. Because the sickness of the sick is often their retribution. The state the sick are in has absolutely nothing to do with you. There is no need to equate it with when you are in good health. ." After one of his particularly painful nights, I thought to myself, "Enough is enough, no one can take it anymore." He said very agitatedly, "You're doing me no good sleeping here." I left his room, crying.When I went back, he said again very gently, "Don't worry about it. You know, I don't need anything but you. But every now and then, something stronger comes into my body." We were ready to take him out of the hospital, rented a villa outside, and took him there.He asked me to put his shoes on only once.He does everything else himself.The rickety taxi transported him to the villa, where he lay down on the bed.This bed was the bed in which he died groggy.I slept on a wicker chair that he could see.He is still eating.The next day is Sunday.He said, "You don't leave me. Don't go away." So I sat on the edge of the bed and read to him.He read the biography of Columbus.After lunch, he began to suffer again.During tea time he said, "I have a fever. I'm confused. Bring me the thermometer." I saw his sad face and wept, only this time.He said with firm command, "Don't cry." So I stopped crying.He called Aldous and Maria Huxley who happened to be at home.For the first time he groaned in pain in front of them.Because he said to me and my daughter, "I need a shot of morphine." So Aldous went to the doctor who gave the shot.He added, "Hold me tight. I don't know where I am. I don't know where my hands are. Where am I?" The doctor came and injected him with morphine.After a while he said, "It's much more comfortable. Just sweat it out." Then he said, "It's much more comfortable." After a few minutes, Maria Huxley and I remained in the room.I lift his left ankle from time to time, it is full of strong vitality.As long as I live, I will be carrying his ankles. He has been breathing calmly.Sudden interruption of breathing.The moment the thread of life was severed in his wounded body came.His face changed, his cheeks and jaws sunken, and death had taken him... Death was there, Lawrence was dead.It's so simple, there's almost nothing out of the ordinary.And no effort is needed, too much haste, die! I paced up and down his room along the balcony.Everything looked different.Where there was a very strong vitality before, there is something new—death.Outside the olive groves were thick and dark; the sky seemed low.I look around the house.Standing neatly under the bed are slippers that reflect the shape of his feet.Under the sheets, he lay cold.Just an hour ago, I was lifting his living ankle... I gazed into his face.It was a very proud and manly new face.All pain disappeared from the face, as if I had never seen him before, never knew his complete posture.I wanted to touch him and look at him, but I didn't.He no longer lives with me.A change has occurred.He belongs to another world now, to all the elements.He is the earth and the sky, but he is no longer a living person.Lawrence, love me.My dear Lawrence... he is dead. We buried him.Very simple, like burying a bird.We -- some of the people who loved him -- buried him.We put flowers on his grave.When his friends and I put lots of mimosas in his coffin, all I could say was "Goodbye, Lawrence." He was covered in soil afterwards.At that time, the rays of the sun fell on his small grave on the hill overlooking the Mediterranean Sea, which he loved so much.