This morning when I
got out of bed, I glanced out the window to see what the weather was like. This
habit is part of my weekend (mine starts on Friday) routine. During the week,
when I have to go into the office, I don’t bother … as long as it isn’t snowing
…
Back to this morning.
I looked straight into the garden of my mother’s cousin P. I saw her silhouette
behind the kitchen window. She was leaning over the sink, probably getting some
water to make her morning coffee. She looked like usual, a bit thinner maybe. But
nothing special. Yet, I wondered what was going through her head, because only
yesterday we buried her husband C. to whom she had been married since May 1960.
He died last week, quite sudden after doctors had found a lump in his neck only
a few weeks ago.
Even wilted roses keep their fragrance and beauty.
He had been poorly for
seven months, not because of the new-found lump but after some really serious
back surgery which kept him ‘chained’ to his chair since. My mother and I
visited him just a week before her move, which was 8 weeks ago.
The funeral,
yesterday, was very emotional. My mother didn't attend it. But I did and so did my
cousin I. (my mother’s godchild) and some 400 other people from the village.
There was a lot of sniffing and crying, but also a short burst of laughter when
one of C.’s granddaughters addressed the congregation telling us how she
remembered her granddad. One of the things she said even brought a smile on P.’s
face (C.’s widow). ‘When P. turned 75’ – the granddaughter said’ – C.’ had
said: “I wish I could trade her in for 3 of 25.” That’s how he was, also
joking, always taking the mickey and yet being the best and most faithful
husband in the world and a loving and caring dad to his 4 children and 9
grandchildren.
We will all miss him … As for P., I felt so sorry for her this morning, when I saw her standing there by the sink on her own. I really hope she can overcome her loss and has the courage to spend time again with her many friends, whom she missed terribly over the last seven months while looking after her handicapped husband.
I know this was a very sad post. I promise to update you soon on the happier stuff that has kept me occupied over the last two weeks.
11 comments:
Life is such a combination of sadness and joy and as we age the sadness becomes more and more a part of our lives. It sounds as though P. has many loving friends and relatives -- and that is a rich blessing, indeed...
Very sad Martine - and of course there is no other way then to take the time to grieve properly. We have to go through the stages. I'm sorry for your and your mothers cousins loss.
Very sad, but as you say life does go on. I'm sure life will be very different.
A sad reminder of a situation most of us have to face at some time.
It sounds like they had a long and happy marriage, a lot to celebrate. Healing takes time, the new normal will settle in one day, and the sun comes up each morning giving us a new chance.
It's our lot in life to have to watch our elders disappear. The certainty that it will happen sooner or later doesn't diminish the sadness. Bon courage, Martine.
My sincere condolences to P.
I am sure that being so close by you will be able to check in on her as she goes through this difficult time.
Happy Easter to you and your Mother.
Is Easter Monday a holiday in Belgium as it is in France?
Hi Chm, Happy Easter to you too. Yes, Easter Monday is a (welcome) holiday in Belgium too. I've been so busy lately that I'd even forgotten about this spring holiday - honestly - I' not joking!! Luckily I have some great travel plans - unfortunately due to lack of easy transportation - they won't take me to France ... but a bit further south ... I'll reveal my destination shortly. Hug. Martine
Martine, I wish you a (belated) happy Easter.
Looking forward to reading about your travel plans!
Martine, a belated happy Easter to you and your mother.
Now I can't wait to hear about your travel plans!
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