Monday, 4 June 2007
No blog today
It should be a perfect morning.
Sunshine, stillness and the grass is sparkling with dew.
The old cliches keeps recurring. 'You never know what's round the corner','Seize the moment'. Events in life ram it home.
Yesterday, as soon as I had posted my blog I thought all was right with the world. It took just a phone call to change that. A call to my son from his best friend to tell him that his only sibling, his older sister, had died suddenly and unexpectedly whilst away in Bristol on a wedding anniversary celebratory weekend. I don't know the exact cause as yet but she apparently had chest pains and went to the hospital. She was 28, only a year younger than my own daughter. She was at school with both of my children.
Any death here in our small community touches everyone; one gets used and of necessity in my case, almost hardened to hearing of other folk moving on to the next world. For usually they are old, loved by many, from huge families and have lived good and happy lives. Funeral services are usually filled-to-bursting with many, many mourners standing outside because the tradition is a fine one, the same as in Ireland; everyone attends as a matter of respect and support for the family.
But the death of someone so young is heartbreaking. Her parents, who live close to my daughter, have suffered a lot of problems in the past which just makes it even sadder.
Sometimes I wish I was not so sensitive. At times like this, and it is maybe worse now I am a 'certain age'I get very emotional as I always feel others' pain. The mother-child separation thing too is especially painful for me. And outliving a child, to my mind, is the worse thing that can happen to anyone.
It is my son's birthday today, he will be 26 at eighteen minutes past one, (funny how you remember the time of their births isn't it?). Yesterday he had to comfort his friend who was calling from Essex over the phone and when S told me the news his eyes filled with tears, for he too is a sensitive soul. But we should not fight tears, I always tell my daughter that they are e-motion, energy in motion, they have a purpose. It seems to be a British thing, being uptight about showing pain, stiff upper lip and all that.
So I find it hard to blog today about what seem mundane, everyday occurrences and all blessings seem elusive. Instead I will write a letter to the parents who have lost a daughter. That will be harder than any other form of writing I have had to do for a long time.