INGELA'S LAST HOURS
On the evening of Saturday the 28th of August 2004 Ingela and I drove the three
puppies into Gothenburg to have dinner with our good friends Julian and Annika . We had
met a lot over the years. They have one of our Welsh Springer Spaniels (Tilly) and we
recently started to show our dogs together. We arrived at their home in central
Gothenburg at about six o'clock. Annika poured a glass of wine for me. Ingela drank very
seldom so it was generally assumed that she'd do the driving. Not a bit of it. She had
decided to have a glass. So I was to do the driving. This was a normal arrangement for
us. As I write this I feel it was fitting that she should enjoy a glass of wine on what was
to be the last evening of her life.
We had, as usual, a lovely evening in good company and a great few laughs. I remember
going to the loo. Under the process I, as I often do, started singing something.
Suddenly from the garden outside, the three puppies Gimli, Brian (yes, Brian) and Primus
started howling in tune to "O Sole Mio and were accompanied by Julian and Annika's
veteran singer-dogs Toby and Tilly. This didn't stop until I came back to the garden
where, with the help of all present calmed them down. This was a usual occurrence. Our
dogs were potential opera-singers and they knew it and I'm afraid so did we!
We discussed our respective relationships and our children and how lucky we all were to
be so happy. We discussed Ingela and me buying a house nearer Gothenburg.We arrived
back home around midnight. Ingela washed and prepared the dogs for the dog-show the
following day and went to bed. I baked some bread and went to bed. Ingela always
insisted on being early at dog-shows to get the feel of the place.
Annika, Julian and their son Edwin arrived soon afterwards so we found a place to put
our dog-cages etc.The day was going well for Ingela and the dogs. A few good placings
and I think one not so good. Ingela was used to success but as long as she broke even,
that was good enough for her, there would be other days. At around 2 o'clock Ingela
asked me to drive into Gothenburg to collect Alex, our fourteen year-old foster-son. He
had spent the weekend with his father and was to take the train to the dog-show.
Ingela, however, gently insisted that I collect him. In the meantime she was helping
Edwin to show a dog properly. He went into the children's class and acquitted himself
well. He was so proud and so was Ingela. She had a way with children when it came
showing the way. Little did we know how much we were going to depend on him in a
few months when we adults weren't ready to show.Alex and I came back from
Gothenburg at about 3 o'clock. Alex had just bought a new mobile phone with a built-in
camera and was taking pictures all over the place. Ingela was never keen on posing for
photos but Alex insisted on taking a shot of her. She chided him for being so tiresome
with his new telephone camera. He pressed the button.
That was the last photo of Ingela. Ingela had done well with Eddie (puppy, 9 months)
that day and was going on to the next class. I was on my way to the loo when a hand
caught my hand. "And where do you think you're going young man. It was of course,
Ingela. She said she was about to continue to show Eddie again and asked me if I
couldn't put my water-works on hold and watch. We walked back to the ring hand in
hand together and got ready for the class. I wished her luck and gave her a kiss on the
cheek. When Ingela's turn came she started running around the ring with Eddie. I turned
to a friend and observed that Ingela had managed to keep Eddie, who had been a little
restless earlier, under good control. Suddenly someone shouted my name. I didn't react
at first. Then I saw Tina ( "Milk-maid ) Andersson and Ulrika Fäldh in the ring standing
over somebody who was lying on the ground. That somebody was my Ingela. I ran over
and saw her face. It was a terrible colour. From now on everything becomes a blur. A
hazy video, one minute in slow motion, next minute on high speed. Four medical people
working hard to revive Ingela. Alex sobbing near us, being comforted by friends. A girl
whom I hadn't met for years telling me everything would be ok. I'm very glad that, at
that moment I made a decision that would help me get through what was to come. I
turned to the dear girl and said to her without emotion that I knew Ingela was gone.
Suddenly Ingela seemed to breathe again. I then realised it was her last breath. Having
been blessed with a quick if somewhat undisciplined brain and the gift of the gab I've
sailed through life blissfully without a scratch or anything one might call a crisis. This
was the worst moment in my life and I knew it. Nothing would ever be the same again.
The ambulance came and took us to the hospital. Alex was being looked after by our
doggy friends. Continued efforts were made to revive Ingela.
We sat in a room at the hospital and waited for the doctor to come in.
After a few minutes he came in and started to speak.
I told him quickly that I knew she was gone and that I'd like to see her.
I went into a room and saw the lifeless body of Ingela who has meant more to me than
any thing else on this earth, still and peaceful. I'd often seen her like this at home
before I went to bed. I kissed her face and then I held her hand.
It was still warm. I pressed it six times as we always did with each other.
This meant "I, love, you, ve, ry, much".
I had held her hand only an hour before, when she was alive and laughing. I left the
room to go home to our family. My heart was broken. It still is.
After five years I still can't understand what's happened. I miss her so terribly.
They say that time heals. I don't know. I hope "they're" right. I speak to her every day.
