Thursday, 8 November 2012

Aftermath.

The aftermath of any death is always traumatic for the survivors....it's infinitely worse if the death was sudden and premature. Old hurts, old scores, things long forgotten rise to the surface with a grim reality that all things mortal will perish but not the hurts and pangs of long lost loved ones, returning to haunt the living with grim inevitability.

When the first David died it took me a year to sort his stuff out. I still wear his Drize A Bone in dreadful weather and one of his blazers still hangs in my wardrobe. He's been dead for fifteen years but the hurt of the loss is still there and brought back daily, hourly by the loss of my children.

The job of sorting it all out is not mine on this occasion but I would urge anyone who has not already done so to make a will.....My loved ones dying intestate seems to be the main ingredient of my life right now.

It is all part of the grieving process as surely as the burial.

On the good side are the flowers still arriving that lift my spirits as do the cards and messages arriving daily....

As I walk around the garden, sometimes fast and often very slowly I hear his voice in the wind, I catch a muffled bark, I see a favourite flower...the raspberries he gave me are over but will bloom again next year...

Reminders where ever I look of the unconditional love of a dog and the rather more complicated relationship with humans.

This morning I found at the further end of my garden the extraordinary colour of a berry tree as it starts to lose its leaves......all reminders of death....but there is beauty with the tears....thank you God



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