Birth, death, marriage, divorce ......... those rites of passage. Those moments when you have to pinch yourself for a long time afterwards and think, 'Did that really happen?' Many of the greatest poets have written about the similarities between birth and death. I understand. The whole of the universe revealed and yet....... not quite ......... and yet, sufficient for a person to think ....'Well, what was that? Was it what I think it was? Will I ever be the same...?' And of course, the answer is, 'No. How could you be?'
So I have lain awake in the early hours, totally exhausted and desperate for rest yet needing to process all the events which led to the birth of a beautiful and much loved baby. And I have sat alone whilst the world continued and yet mine stopped as I held the marble white hand of the man I loved more than any other, wondering how that happened, how I could continue and asking myself, 'Is this how it is?'
And on Saturday, I was present and witnessed the marriage of my beautiful daughter to a man she obviously loves and who loves her as much. All of us squashed into a tiny very very old little church, the same church my dear D walked past every day on his way to work. All of us wanting this to be a perfect day after all the pain and grief of the last 15 months. All of us giving something because we cared - friends, neighbours, family........... And the singing was oh so breath-taking and the service was just right. And as the happy couple stood side by side, a beautiful butterfly hovered near them and then went to rest on one of the windows. And it took every ounce of my strength not to howl and sob out loud.
And now, the grave of my dear D is covered, completely covered in wedding flowers. The prettiest grave in the entire cemetery. And oh, but after all this time, just when I thought things were getting better, I find myself experiencing the pain which makes me want to dig deep into the grave, to lie prostate on the grass above, anything to be near what is left of the man I loved and still do.
So I ask ............. Life, Death..... where is the difference. I am ok, made of tough stuff, will give myself a talking to and carry on and make the best of things..... But there are still moments when a Half Life, a Life Sentence is what remains, and I wonder if it is worth it, do I want it...............
But, as I have said before, I have a choice..............
All that matters is Love. And it never dies.......... But it sure as hell is tough. And hen I remember the other folks who post here, and I wonder why I am saying all this in such a wallow of self-pity. Life. Grab it, shake it, dive headlong into it, enjoy it and live it......... that;s what it's there for......
But Just for Today, Just for This Minute, I ask........... What is it all About....?
Jen
