Macbeth's Damn Spot of Memory

Six years ago today, my dad, ill with a fever, exhausted from age, stood from his bed and then fell to the floor banging his head against a dresser drawer on his way down. The blood stains from that fall still mark the carpet in the master bedroom of my apartment.

I've never been able to scrub it clean. It’s like Macbeth’s “damned spot.” Time has faded much the way my memory of days before, during and after my dad's death has dimmed. 

Only the phantom pains of grief exist now. It's an ache like osteoarthritis on a rainy day. 

Still, a sliver of memory pricked deep below my skin today. On this date- in that time before COVID-19, my dad's dying began in earnest. Today is also the day in 2018; I began documenting his dying and then death on Twitter. During it all many approved. But some didn't. Generally, those who sent me the cruellest of messages during that period were against my dad's politics and Corbyn’s. 

I reread these tweets and remember that time. I hated that it was the end of the road for him. I despaired for him and me. I knew my loneliness and lack of purpose were going to be enormous once he stopped breathing. I even thought up until the last day, that he was going to cheat death again.

But I know if he had not died, my stage two rectal cancer that was present in my body would have probably turned terminal because being a caregiver means much self-sacrifice. For the last two years of my father's life, I ignored most of my own health warnings to ensure my dad's well-being. I am not alone in doing this because I am sure many of you have or will do the same when it comes to taking care of your loved ones.

My father wouldn't have done well during the pandemic either because he hated being penned in. The apartment we shared was small but working if we treated it like a space station where everyone had assigned tasks. I think that's why we were able to accomplish so much between Peter's death in 2009 and my father's in 2018. We worked well together and non-stop until my dad became too ill to go on with his tasks. 

I also remember that in those days of his dying, there was a belief politics could transform the world for the better. Theresa May's minority government was struggling. There was talk of Corbyn forming a coalition government. Hope seemed possible and now in 2024 hope is the rarest of emotions. 

So much has happened to me and the world since those eight days of dying transpired. But as it is the sixth anniversary of his death and the odds are I won't be alive for the tenth anniversary of my father's death. Indulge me as I revisit and reflect on that final week. It's all an effort to piece together the politics of today and how I became who I am. 

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8:31 AM · Nov 20, 2018

This is Harry Leslie Smith's son, John. Harry is in A & E and not in a good way. He asked me to inform you in case things don't work out. I will keep you posted.

11:26 AM · Nov 20, 2018

Just an update: Harry is hypotensive and on fluids and drifts in and out of consciousness but is breathing well with oxygen Waiting for the cardiologist to report.

1:09 PM · Nov 20, 2018·

I told Harry before he fell into a deep sleep about the concern rippling across Twitter for him, and he said to me, "Tell them, I love each of them so much."

1:50 PM · Nov 20, 2018

Blood pressure will not rise and sits at 77/37. Harry woke- for a moment and said, "Tell them I've kept my pledge." And then he falls asleep again.

2:32 PM · Nov 20, 2018

Now a drug Legvo, something or other, to raise his bp. Nil by mouth. So I wet his lips with a small sponge soaked in water.

2:46 PM · Nov 20, 2018

He sleeps deep, his legs jerking like he's riding a bike And, I wonder if, in his dreams, he's seven again and riding on his uncle's bike from his grandparents' house to the moors, where he felt free from the sting of his poverty. ( I would later learn the jerking movements in his body were caused by the steroids in the nebulizer that was attempting to keep his lungs free of mucus)

2:59 PM · Nov 20, 2018

The cardiologist walks by his observation room; and says he will be with me shortly. But I already know that Harry's heart has been taking a beating since his pneumonia in January as well as having a persistent UTI, since September. So, I wait -knowing that his body is very tired.

3:12 PM · Nov 20, 2018

The cardiologist says it might be another pneumonia or bladder infection causing low BP. But his tone errs on the side of pessimism as to how this ends for Harry.

3:34 PM · Nov 20, 2018

They've put him on an adrenaline IV to raise his blood pressure. Poor sod, all he wants is a cup of tea. BP up a bit

3:40 PM · Nov 20, 2018

Since my brother Pete's death- 9 years ago, I have been at Harry's side and never absent from him for more than a day. We laughed, we argued, and we learned from each other. I became his friend while still letting him remain my dad.

3:44 PM · Nov 20, 2018

Harry's BP is 99/53 through adrenaline treatment. He's in serious but I believe "stable condition now. The cardiologist believes he has an infection going on somewhere and is being treated with antibiotics. He may be admitted to the ICU but are waiting to see if he responds to meds.

Several months ago, I asked Harry what I should do if he became incapacitated by illness, and he said, "Tweet about it, regardless of whether the end is happy or sad."

5:00 PM · Nov 20, 2018

Right now; Harry is in a hospital in Ontario Canada where like the NHS, healthcare is free at the point of use but also under threat of privatisation from right-wing forces.

5:03 PM · Nov 20, 2018

I need to do this because it keeps my thoughts from racing as I am alone with Harry in a darkened room with illuminated monitors, streaming out information I don't understand. We have shared so much together.

I am ok. However, there is a loneliness to standing vigil.

5:17 PM · Nov 20, 2018

I get the feeling- that in this hospital room tonight, I am watching history die here: my own, Britain's and even Canada's.

5:22 PM · Nov 20, 2018

A portable X-ray machine arrives at his emergency room cubicle.

5:24 PM · Nov 20, 2018

A fire alarm drowns out all of Harry's monitors. His door is closed, and through the cutting clang, he sleeps while his mouth expels air out like a man doing lengths in a pool.

5:42 PM · Nov 20, 2018

My mum liked to read me the poems of Goethe, and the words from the Erle King are stuck in my head right now.

5:47 PM · Nov 20, 2018

I haven't given up, but I know Harry's taken a bashing over this past year and at 95 he has few reserves to draw upon.

5:53 PM · Nov 20, 2018

Playing softly to him the Audibles edition of Love Among the Ruins while he sleeps.

6:04 PM · Nov 20, 2018

It looks like it's pneumonia, from aspiration as he's had a massive build-up of mucus in his bronchial tubes for 6 weeks now.

6:11 PM · Nov 20, 2018

Just waiting for Harry to be transferred to the ICU from emergency. But it could be hours because the health system is stretched to the limit. I shudder to think what 4 years of Doug Ford is going to do to public health care in this province.

6:44 PM · Nov 20, 2018

I am so pleased Harry got to be loved by others because my greatest fear when Pete died was that he'd be forgotten and think his life had been worthless.

6:47 PM · Nov 20, 2018

Thank you all for keeping vigil over Harry with me. It truly is less lonely this way for me.

6:52 PM · Nov 20, 2018

I don't know. I watched Harry battle sepsis 6 years ago and pneumonia in Feb. But I watch him now like someone on shore who sees a ship, with loved ones on it, being battered by waves and storms, and there is nothing I can do.

I remember as a young boy of 7 asking Harry while he put me to bed about what his life was like as a lad. It was then that I first learned about his sister Marion and her end in a workhouse infirmary.

7:29 PM · Nov 20, 2018

He wakes and asks for a cuppa. I tell him the doctor has a nil-by-mouth order and places a wet sponge on his lips. "I am afraid to sleep," he says because I don't want them to forget my lunch." He hasn't eaten in 24 hours.

7:33 PM · Nov 20, 2018

He's got a lot of mucus in the bronchial tubes when he coughs, I suction the sputum from his mouth.

I made a pact with my brother Pete before he died at 50, in 2009, from pulmonary fibrosis that Harry's end would never be like his beginning, in 1923 in the slums of Barnsley. Whenever that comes, he will go with love, sorrow, and hope.

8:09 PM · Nov 20, 2018

After being examined by the ICU doctor, Harry exclaims, " I can assure you, I am not ready to die because I have too much work to do."

8:56 PM · Nov 20, 2018

The update from the ICU Doctor: Harry is moving in the right direction -still critical but not acutely.

9:01 PM · Nov 20, 2018

Harry, in his voice, has ordered a DNR when questioned by the doctor.

9:03 PM · Nov 20, 2018

I am feeling slightly more optimistic that Harry will survive the night- and that is a start.

9:19 PM · Nov 20, 2018

In a moment of fever, last month asked. "These last years, I did something that mattered, didn't I?" My heart broke.

9:27 PM · Nov 20, 2018

Harry's kidneys are holding up high creatine levels of 200 but holding.

9:30 PM · Nov 20, 2018

I've been at Harry's bedside since the ambulance picked him up at 6:30 am or 16 hours ago. But I had to step outside from the hospital to feel the cold, black air coming off the Bay of Quinte and revel in the silence of the parking lot.

9:54 PM · Nov 20, 2018

All is quiet, and Harry sleeps.

11:13 PM · Nov 20, 2018

It is after midnight here, but I think he will see the morning, and then we will go from there.

This month marks the 6th anniversary of my dad's death. It also marks the third anniversary of my Harry's Last Stand newsletter going live. During these past 36 months, I have posted close to 500 essays, as well as excerpts from the unpublished works of Harry Leslie Smith - along with chapter samples from my book about him. My newsletter has grown from a handful of subscribers to almost 3k in that period. Around 7% of you are paid members. I appreciate all of you for keeping the legacy relevant and growing. I’ve I had the means all of this would be free. But as I don’t your tips and paid subscriptions are greatly appreciated because it keeps the wheels on this bus turning.  Take care, John.