NOBODY KNOWS by DAN SULTAN. Story/poem by Nicole Langtip.

Wadawurrung Country, Surfcoast/Geelong. 2014/2024.

It’s the 10th Anniversary of Dan Sultan’s Blackbird album.
10 years since song eight, Nobody Knows, was released.
Dan’s social media sites keep flashing up – wanting to remind me.
But there’s no need Dan,
I know it’s been 10 years.

He’s celebrating with an anniversary show,
playing with the Melbourne Symphany Orchestra.
A friend rings to ask if I want to go – of course I do.
It’ll be beautiful.
There’ll be tears.
I’ll blame the sweet caress of the violins.

It was eight weeks from diagnosis to death.
We’d finally settled on our property
20 acres on the Surfcoast Hinterland, Wadawurrung country
Finally, we got there.

But you only got to live there for 13 weeks – that was cruel.

I stayed for another five years
Not knowing where else to go.
What was I supposed to do without you?
Nobody knows.
So I just stayed

I sat on the porch
Watched the eagles
Spoke to the frogs.
Tears at sunset,
every night.
The beauty and mystery of
another day dissolving
The visual reminder of
the empty void without you,
the daily darkness.
Utterly distressed…

I mothered our son
Fed, watered and held him
Deeply
Tightly
Tenderly
Pretending everything was ok.
As I waited
For a sign…

I waited for you to come home.
Up the long driveway
over the little crossover you built.
In the ute.
With the milk.

But the ute remained stationary in the shed.

The waiting is real.
Those who have grieved understand this.
It’s not pretend or false hope.
The story of Lazarus rings out as an absolute possibility.
Each sound, each murmur
Maybe this is the dreamtime
Maybe I’ll wake soon
Somebody will wake me
Surely
he will return

Our son turned two
on week five of your hospital stay.
You were in ICU on his birthday
You were in ICU on my birthday too come to think of it.
Just four days before our boy’s.

Memories of his pram in ICU
Pressing the big green button
Waiting for the door lock to be released
Then pushing on through with the pram
our boy sitting up,
to visit you,
like it was normal.
The pram, the nappies, his bottle.
Pushing on through.
Our new normal,
for a bit.

37 country clicks from our new place to the hospital.
I remember doing 135kms that one time they’d called a code blue on you.
That’s not when you died though.
I was so thankful, fuck I was so incredibly thankful
that you didn’t die on me,
that time.
You didn’t die before I got there.
A few more weeks left yet.
When there was still hope.

Nobody Knows
wailed on repeat
in the car everyday.
Dan’s raspy longing gravelly voice,
Nobody knows my love for you
Every one of those 37 kilometres
Every day
Each and every day
Nobody knows I yearn for you
Back and forth
In and out
for those eight weeks
This love could not be truer…

Wondering each time as I listened,
could this be our wedding song,
will this be your funeral song?
The words imperfectly perfect for both…

That last proposal,
cheekily replying over a wine,
what’s the rush?
You said you’d never ask again.
I didn’t believe that for a second.

Our commitment was set.
Son.
Home.
Family.
The formalities not important
to me,
We had plenty of time.

My one regret………
I’m so sorry for that my love.
I’m so sorry I got that wrong.
It was important to you.

And I was to be your widow regardless.

The back paddock prepared for your wake.
After your funeral service
After the formalities
Where the song had been played,
my chosen song for you.
When I had
no words
no aisle to walk down
no hand to hold
This love could not be truer…….

It’ll be 10 years this May
I will go to Dan’s anniversary show in July.
I’m hoping for the instrumental version,
its gentler without the words,
softer tears.
       This fire will always burn for you
               my love,
                 I know.
                     I will always know.

Stereo Story#784