He was like the sun that comes out and fulfills its purpose according to plan. He commanded the time, space, respect and the attention. There was an aura that enshrouded him and left one awed and amazed at how he was able to manage his life in such a positive and disciplined manner. He was Errol Felix Galloway, but we called him “Soul”.
Being the eldest of twelve he knew that all eyes were directed towards him. He was smart, charming, handsome, wise and shrewd...all that and more! He therefore strove to achieve high standards and ensure that the lessons were good, easy to learn and understand. He was a tall man who walked through the wind and amongst the trees. Astute, poised, confident and driven. Mature in mind and crafty in intent, he could create out of nothing.
“Soul” took risks along the way and worked hard to achieve the ultimate. A figure that stood strong amongst friends, within the community, on the sports field and in the workplace. A powerful force able to captivate and draw you into an embrace hard to simulate. A mere handshake could leave its mark upon the archives of your memory.
This was my time of growth and an era for forming my own aspirations. “Soul” was my role model. His life bore the evidence and fruit of positive thinking and attitude. I wanted to uncover the secrets to his success. But suddenly the universe halted in its tracks and stopped......life changed........my life changed.
Errol Felix Galloway was dying. His medical results were positive and the prognosis alarming. The announcement wrought emotional and psychological devastation. It left me in a tunnel of absolute desolation and unable to vocalize my pain. I had no one to tell, no one to talk to, though my family fluttered around me. I felt it was unlikely they could empathise because they didn't know or understand me, neither the depth of my grief. I was alone with my thoughts and carried my dread deep within. I was a solitary figure wandering through a maze of uncertainty crowned with questions. Still, “Soul” remained strong and unchanging.
I carried him.......Literally. His body waned and weak. His immunity low. One memory in particular, of me carrying him, still clutches my heart and digs into me till it feels like yesterday. He was cradled in my arms like an infant, he looked up into my face, into my eyes and said, “I'm sorry.........thank you”. The unshed tears choked and killed my reply. What could I say? Yet I wanted to say so much. I wanted him to know how much I loved him. How much I would miss him. I wanted him to understand what a void would be left once he was gone. But words wouldn't come. I held him closer and tighter, my heart bowed in silent sorrow.
My ambitions seemed to hide from the heartrenching sight of brother carrying brother. The younger would outlive the eldest of twelve. His head lay heavily against my arm, his own around my waist holding on, and in those moments “Soul” gave me more than I could ever have asked for. A moment that made me realise that somehow, the essence of who we are, lives on. His wife whispered in my ear, “if I had to do it all over again, I wouldn't change a thing”. No regrets, only sun filled memories.
His body had succumbed to malady and Heaven mercifully called. The tall and slender silhouette bade his time. He had run the race, kept good faith and now his journey was done. Even as death stripped him “Soul” remained strong, he conquered and won.
It was a sad and sorrowful day. Laughter turned to mourning. Summer had turned to winter. Darkness blanketed the glow of the warming sun..............
ashes to ashes.........dust to dust.
That was then,
but now and to this day,
one thing remains certain and sure;
This husband, father and friend, lived life, loved laughter and left a legacy I want to follow
Even in the throes of death, my brother was a winner,
He was Errol Felix Galloway
But we called him “Soul”.
Copyright © 2011
Author: Patrick Terry Galloway
Dedicated to the memory of Errol Felix Galloway
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