Champagne Bubblee Column: Rest in eternal peace Kez

Quinton Green, aka Champagne Bubblee, opens up about a recent family bereavement, but how he finds comfort in the soul being free.

I don’t mean to be morbid, but the first time I saw a dead body, I was about nine years old.

An elderly Scottish lady lived next door to us for as long as I could remember. She’d open the door when
we were playing footie and threatened to pop our ball if it banged on her wall or landed in her garden.

As a child you think to yourself, this is how it’s going to be forever.

I can only speak for myself, but I never really planned for the future. I just lived day to day. My biggest worry was covering my exercise book with wallpaper before class the next morning.

So, you can imagine the shock to the system when my stepdad ran into the Scottish lady’s house after
hearing members of her family screaming: “call the ambulance”.

I dared myself to peer through the front door out of curiosity. She was laying there on the front room floor.

Ashen grey, with blue lips and her hands looked like she’d been in the bath for far too long. Her expression haunted me; it was almost as if SHE’D seen a ghost. Eyes and mouth wide open, that image stuck with me for a while.

When I heard the lady had sadly passed, I became woefully aware of the mortality of my grandparents,
my mum and my dad.

I used to pray every night that there wouldn’t be a nuclear war and pleaded with GOD to protect my family. Especially if Russia were to launch an atomic weapon aimed at the United Kingdom! The media were always talking about it at the time.

It makes you think really. When members of my family have passed, you’d hear about it in a devastating phone call, weeks would go by and you’d attend the funeral. Unless it was an open casket, it’s really quite a detached experience.

I doubted that the Scottish lady would be the last person I would see who had passed away. But I never did, until two weeks before writing this!

A close family friend had a seizure in the bath. The sheer horror was carried through the air by screams of family members. “Call the ambulance!”

I administered CPR and attempted mouth to mouth, sadly to no avail. He was laying there on the bathroom floor. Ashen grey, with blue lips and his hands looked like he’d been in the bath for far too long.

His expression haunted me, it was almost as if HE’D seen a ghost!

But I take comfort in knowing that his soul had left his shell. It wasn’t “Kez” anymore.

“Kez” is in a better place. Rest in eternal peace Kez Taylor.

Dedicated to anybody that has lost somebody close to them.

Quinton teaches poetry and creative writing online. Follow Quinton on Instagram @champagne_bubbler and @whoismrmilise. Follow Mr Milise on Spotify. Email him on kcvsinfo@gmail.com.

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