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Through the tears

I attended a humanist funeral today for the first time.
It was also my first time in a crematorium.
I didn't really know what to expect.
All I knew was that my friend is going through a difficult time, and I wanted to show him that I am there for him if he needs me.
Funerals are always sad events, even if you don't know the person who has passed.
You witness people say farewell to someone that they truly love.
You see raw pain and emotion and know that there is nothing that you can do to help.
Today, there was a moment where we were asked to think about the man who had died.
I didn't know him, I knew of him from having heard many stories over the past year and while I momentarily thought of what I knew of him, my thoughts wandered to other things.
I thought of how different the funeral was to an Irish funeral. How much more personal it seemed.
I thought of my sister's funeral and what a show of love and a poignant farewell we were able to give her.
I thought of my friend Dan who died two years ago this month, and how I was unable to say farewell to him, and how I hoped he knew that I was his friend until the end.
After the service, I felt a bit down and felt bizarrely guilty about it.
It feels very selfish thinking about yourself, when you have a friend going through a difficult time.
I decided to go for a walk to a park I've been looking forward to visiting, Hazlehead Park.
As I wandered around the park, totally lost in my thoughts, I stumbled into two rosegardens. One was a memorial for men who died on a rig in the North Sea in 1988, and the other was a garden for the Queen Mother. I rarely sit on my explorations as it is always difficult to get up again, but today I did.
I sat in a week alcove, looked at the flowers and cried.
I cried for my friend, and his loss
I cried for my sister and the fact that she never got to go see Milan and Paris like she wanted
I cried for Dan, and his battle with alcohol
And afterwards I felt so much better.
I looked at the flowers again, at their colours, smelt their fragrances.
I followed a random path alongside a stream and saw ducks and a heron.
I listened to the water babbling along beside me.
I found some gardens, and they were beautiful and it lifted me inside.
I sat again, listening to ducks quacking in the pool under the waterfall I was sitting on.
This time I didn't cry.
I smiled.
Life is sad, this is true.
Loss is inevitable.
Loss is always going to be difficult.
As tough as it seems, we need to remember to try to let the life around us seep into our bones.
And make us smile through the tears.
Yet again, when I was feeling down mother nature cheered me up.
As my sister used to say,

Il y a beaucoup de fleurs.


Comments

  1. Goodness, I adore you. You have such an ability to find poetry in moments. To embrace your surroundings and engage in what they are trying to teach you, or show you. Lu, you're incredible. I'm so sorry for the loss in your friends life, and the loss in yours.

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