The Tribune

EDITOR, The Tribune.

The following letter, written by Felix Bethel in 2014, is published here at the request of one of his daughters. Mr Bethel, who died last week at the age of 70, was on the staff of the College of The Bahamas – now the University of the Bahamas — for 45 years.

His daughter, Xan-Xi Bethel, believes that this “piece is fitting as an honour of his legacy and impact in the Bahamas. This is a way for him to have his last word.”

The Rough Cut

“...two coffins...”

What a time; what a life; what a sweet sweetness to still be alive to be broke; and to also know, that – on one fine day: Jesus Christ will come and shall put an end to all of this damned foolishness.

But in the interim: I prepare for the end.

And in and for that inevitability, I have purposed in my heart to have a carpenter-friend of mine, Robert U. – a Haitian gentleman – build two coffins – one labeled FREDERICK-FELIX BETHEL; and the other signaling: TO WHOM IT MAY CONCERN; one for me – the other [perhaps] for you.

And now this confession: “...I was sinking deep in sin, Far from the peaceful shore,

Very deeply stained within, Sinking to rise no more; But the Master of the sea Heard my despairing cry,

From the waters lifted me, Now safe am I. Love lifted me! Love lifted me! When nothing else could help, Love lifted me.

Now let it be known: If ever there was such a thing as a real blast from the past; this revelation is a blockbuster but blockbuster or not, the fact remains that, it now seems like just yesterday when I found myself astounded by a question that a wisp of a girl-child put to my sainted mother, with that question being –as I still can recall, “…Miss Bettul, I didn’t know you had children old like him” – with that “him” being none other than: This black bastard [educated by the British] and who was born some 65 years ago, Out East in that African community which was known then as Freetown.

My mother – thank God – explained nothing and – to her credit said less about that tumultuous time sometime in 1948 when the !!!lubricious!!! deed was done. – And [of course] she said even more nothing about that sweetest of bitter-sweet moments when the mid-wife announced that, she had been delivered of a black-bastard-bouncing-baby-boy.

And, of course, there was no light in the sky to announce that world-changing entrance.

Today, I wait and cling to that life –even as I make well on my promise to enjoy this life as best I can and must –even where that life comes tinged with the bitter and with the sweet.

And so today, in the midst of a bevy of wonderments and bewilderments brought hither by the death of a very fine lady [That Carol B.]; I marvel that: In this here and now and in this still-warm midst of life; I now wallow in preparation for that moment when it is said, It’s all right now!

And thus: The two coffins!! And thus: That one labeled FREDERICK-FELIX BETHEL; and that other one signaling: TO WHOM IT MAY CONCERN; one for me – the other (perhaps) for you.

And yet, I remember that, it was in a yesterday time that refuses to fade, that a girl-child could wonder how it was that, the sainted Miss Sylvie could look so young after having disgorged from her womb eight other children – my brothers and sisters of the half-blood – all now men and women who were fated to share the womb-space that sheltered God’s man-servant; your child; your brother, your cousin and who still aspires to become one of this great nation’s builders.

What I am trying to say is that, through it all and despite some of the downs that I have faced and perhaps, even because of some of the sufferings that now enshroud what is left of my life; today I can tell you – my brothers and sisters – I give thanks for the bitter and for the sweet.

But please believe me when I tell you that, I am feeling time’s pinch; and here please also believe me when I say to you that, it’s just amazing what a little wine intended for the stomach’s sake can do to your head; you drink a little wine before you curl up for the short spurts of sleep that now suffice to keep your tired old ass firmly locked in harness – and then, the magic moment comes when you dream and when in the dream you dream, you dream of love that was once yours; you dream of the time before you became old when – that so very sweet time when you would be caressed and cared for – not for the money you have; but for the you that you just happened to be in those powerful days.

Alas! Those days are gone; and all I have left are these shards of memory; these broken pieces of love found and love lost in the tempest of the life I have lived; and so today, I now find that, the time has come when all of that is now shrouded in sweet memory.

And so, today when wake to old cock’s insistent cry; I know that i am standing on the doorsteps of dread and death – that place where the mire waits and where stumble and fall are always close at hand.

Evidently, my days are now shorter and shorter. What I am currently noting is that – as you age and if you dare live long enough – the days get shorter and shorter.

And as these days that are yours speed up, you find that all of the days that you might yet have – are in this precious moment – set to be chewed up in lament and regret about some of the things you should have done.

If you are smart, you would catch yourself, tell the Devil that he is a liar – and then and thereafter pick your tired old self up and get on with the business of drinking the cup that is yours down to the last bloody dregs.

So today, I sip on the brew that I have made of this life that is yet mine; and as I taste tastes that now remind me of the bitterest and sweetest I have ever tasted; I sometimes find myself crying in regret for this or that ‘wrong’ road taken; this or that messed up person I met and loved and cared for and hoped that I would grow old with; and I pity the fool that I now drag around with the tired remains of shadow that limn the profile of the man I was in those powerful days...

What I am trying to say to you, my beloved brothers and sisters is simply this; having lived for a fairly long time, I can tell you that, King Solomon was absolutely right when – on his return – he realised that, there was no new thing under the sun; that all is vanity and vexation; and that, man born of woman is fated to be cut down – and then and thereafter, have his remains returned to the dust.

But brethren and all my beloved, please believe me when I tell you that, when it is all summed up and when I had the last drop even down to the dregs; I would confess to you that, I did it my way.

And so today, all that remains is for me to pick the rest of myself up and get back in the race – and do it [finally] His way; that being as He did when he – as Yeshua – walked among us and strove to obey even as he was lifted high on that old rugged cross...and yet, love lifted me...

FELIX F BETHEL

Nassau,

Bahamas.