Myles’ brother left his house for the last time today.
Long steps, hat off, the funeral director bows his head. The hearse leaves the house slowly, slowly down the steep hill to a small ceremony of fifteen at the crematorium. There can be no more.
The escort of twenty Welsh Water vans and the children in their rugby shirts waving from the sunny streets.
Goodbye Hugh, Swansea turned out for you today.
Thank you for always reading my blog.
Heaven has a huge cheeseboard but don’t eat the chives, your Dad picked them.
Rest in peace.
Animals find humans who will help them. I’ve had many over the years. From a little sparrow up to a horse and her foal. (I don’t know what I’d do with anything bigger so if there are any elephants reading this, please consider, I live in quite a small house ok?)
Some I’ve saved and some have passed on.
Last night was brief and brutal.
A soggy, trembling wreck slipping away but in a terrible state.
She purred as I picked her up, warmed her up and dried her off.
She’d come to die and we knew it.
Later on the that evening, I went to bed and turned off the lights. One of my cats brushed softly against my legs at the foot of my bed. She had sneaked in (as she does most nights) so I gently laughed and asked her how she’d got in.
I switched on my light to see where she was only to find an empty room.
I think I was being thanked.
Brought Arnie’s ashes home today. We’re going to buy a plant and put him in the garden where he liked to sit in the sun and watch the sparrows chirp.
Spring is coming.
I learnt of the suicide of a beautiful mum I knew, (as an online friend) today. She left three young children behind in the world.
Life was too much.
It’s hit me hard as I’ve felt those dark thoughts too, I know a lot of mums do.
I’ve been drinking a lot of tea today and wallowing in past memories.
How do you pull yourself back from such a dark tunnel?
Small, heavy steps at first, find something to hold on to, anything.
I started this blog to pull myself out of depression, something to do as they say, something to focus on.
It feels like a bloody big mountain to climb when you’re at the bottom.
Sleep tight beautiful sister. Rest in peace.
Sometimes you need to be somewhere quiet. Today I had to take myself somewhere where I could remember, cry, have the wound ripped off for a few hours and allow the memories to haunt me. I don’t know how other peope remember the day they lost a parent or a loved one but I find it’s easier to be alone for a bit(with dog).
Back to the business of Christmas tomorrow.
Every year I tell myself I’ll do a post about Christmas, about my mum and how she died a few days before Christmas.
Every year the date comes and goes and I don’t draw anything.
Because I can’t draw anything remotely near how it feels.