A Grief Observed – C. S. Lewis (1961)
The collection of reflections on the experience of bereavement following the death of his wife, Joy Davidman, in 1960.
It is said that to find your soulmate out of the multitude of beings that inhabit this earth at any one time is a miracle, well I’m not too sure on the concept of that but I do know that I was lucky enough to have had a few short years with someone that was the one I was always meant to be with.
There was no love at first sight across a crowded room, or feeling something in the air, or a mystical power that drew us to meet. Far from it, but I do believe in destiny. I have great faith in the concept that if something is meant to be then regardless of what occurs, distances or obstacles … it will happen.
I had given-up a fairly good job in an upmarket hotel because I was fed-up with the commuting and, more importantly the late night that were the norm because if guest wished to stay-up drinking then as residents the bar staff had to stay to serve them.
To keep some money coming in I had swapped the glamour of that establishment for a fisherman’s pub on a rough council estate closer to my house. It was rough, the décor left a lot to be desired as the brewery refused to redecorate following trashing it got when the lads were home from weeks or even months away at sea and as to the clientele, well fish-wives don’t have a reputation for nothing. The men often hit the bar before going home and so the wives would come out to find them. Too much alcohol did not always make for a merry experience.
I can’t say it was love at first sight because it wasn’t, the attraction was purely sexual. He wasn’t one of the fishermen but did live on the estate. He would come in at 6pm on the dot for a pint of lager and a packet of twenty No6 fags (smoking was still allowed indoors then and all pubs sold cigarettes behind the counter). The conversation was risqué but never course or rude. The innuendoes would be thick and the parting shot, always well before closing time was the question about when we would have sex, with the answer never finalised. Until a few months later when I gave him my phone number and told him when my night off was.
He rang. The conversation was, ‘Do you still want to?’ to which I answered ‘Yes’ … he hung-up and came around. We were together for over ten years before he was killed, and even though we never knew the details we both knew from the first moment that we met that we were supposed to be together.