Skip to main content

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.

    ReplyDelete

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

12 years and counting....

It is that time of the year again, my sister's anniversary. 12 years since we bid her farewell.
Well, tomorrow is her anniversary but I am having a very lazy morning and as a result I am writing this today.

For the past 11 years, the entire month of November has been a struggle for me.
In the beginning it was a raw struggle. Every single day from the 10th (her birthday) to the 29th (her anniversary) was like a hot blade slicing through my heart.
I think it is because the loneliness of not having her with us to celebrate her birthday is intensified by the fact that her anniversary is so close, and there is an awareness and an emotional surge in the three weeks between that just lingers in my subconscious.
Now, I definitely do become very low for those three weeks, but it is much easier to bounce out of it as we approach the anniversary and I realise that my irrationality of the last three weeks was simply bottled up emotion from the remaining 49 weeks of the year.

This year was a t…

The day I got a little sister.

Last night, as I got the bus home from work, I got really choked up as the clock turned midnight. Perhaps because I'd been checking product dates all day, I was painfully aware of what date I was stepping into, or perhaps because I had just returned from a trip to Ireland I was painfully aware of it all. I don't know. It's not important.

When I went to bed last night, I started to think about my sister a little more. A lot more. I remember the day she was born. Isn't that weird? I was only 3 years old but I remember. Mam was on the phone from the hospital to Da, and he asked my brother and I if we wanted to speak to our mammy. Naturally we both jumped at the chance to say hi. Our telephone at the time was in the hallway and was a few feet from the ground, so my brother and I had to stand on a chair to speak into it. As the eldest I went first and gushed and oohed as I thought was appropriate. I hopped off my chair and gave the floor to my brother. I was unprepared for…

Let's talk about mental health

I must admit I am a little bit nervous about writing this blog today.
I am afraid that I will get a little too emotional when writing about a topic that is very close to my heart.
I will apologise now for if I ramble or get lost in a stream of consciousness. I hope you can make sense of what I am about to write.

This week, another life was lost to the tragedy that is suicide. I should correct myself, a famous life was lost to suicide. I have no doubt that this week, many families around the world are grieving and trying to figure out why one of their own has taken their own life.

The reason that I want to write this post is simply down to the number of horrible and ignorant comments that I have read on social media about Chester Bennington's death. For me, it highlighted the lack of understanding of mental health in this day and age.

I'm going to take you back on a wee journey with me and tell you why this is such a personal topic and why I feel that it needs to be spoken abou…