I’ve thought long and hard this morning about writing this. But finally I realised that this blog is a little part of me. A lot of my readers are my family and friends, and many of my fellow bloggers and regular readers have become friends too. I’ve mentioned C before so somehow it would be wrong not to finish her story for her.
When we moved here last summer, we were elated to find another family in the only other house around. The two houses were built at the same time and stand, identical, like twins sunning themselves on our little patch of green. We got on instantly, although sharing a major crisis helps. The kids are similar ages and have become firm friends, flitting in and out of each others’ houses so much, I’m never sure how many I’m feeding at tea time. D and Hubby quickly became no strangers to the pub and I took to C instantly. She was already ill, but brushed it aside as an inconvenience. She loved Bertie to bits (always a direct route to my affections). He escaped once and was found expectantly waiting by C’s back door (he could probably smell baking). We discovered a shared love of cooking (C made the best Bailey’s Cheesecake I’ve ever tasted) and swapped recipes and steaming plates of just-baked cakes, cookies and goodness knows what, which were ferried between houses for testing. They have introduced us to loads of people, helped us settle in and we’ve shared all sorts of mad adventures including the Pumpkin Festival and a very inebriated New Year’s Eve.
At Christmas, C was determined to make it the best ever for the children (she missed last year having surgery on her brain tumour) and insisted that we went Christmas shopping, pushing herself so hard she ended up asleep in the car on the way home (’I hope I didn’t snore’!). We share a taste for gaudy Christmas decorations and our little corner of Cavan was lit up like Blackpool, much to our shared delight and Hubby and D’s disgust. Even as she got more and more ill, she was a lovely friend and my biggest fan. She was delighted to hear I was writing a cookery book. I still have her text that said ’You’re the next Delia Smith!’ Despite falling and breaking her hip just after the new year, she officiated the Easter Egg hunt from her wheelchair and still managed to snaffle a couple of packs of Rolos.
Today, C died. She’d hate any sentimental crap so I’ll just say that my one regret is that I didn’t have more time to enjoy her company, but I know I’m lucky to have shared so much. That’s one thing a blog’s good for. Every memory stored away for future reference.
So this is for C. And for lovely D, Lou and Little C, for whom our hearts are broken.
Remember me when I am gone away,
Gone far away into the silent land;
When you can no more hold me by the hand,
Nor I half turn to go, yet turning stay.
Remember me when no more day by day
You tell me of our future that you plann’d:
Only remember me; you understand
It will be late to counsel then or pray.
Yet if you should forget me for a while
And afterwards remember, do not grieve:
For if the darkness and corruption leave
A vestige of the thoughts that once I had,
Better by far you should forget and smile
Than that you should remember and be sad.
Christina Rossetti
May 3rd, 2008 at 8:47 am
I agree completely with you and my thoughts today are with D, Lou and C.
May 3rd, 2008 at 8:51 am
May 3rd, 2008 at 9:05 am
May 3rd, 2008 at 10:22 am
May 3rd, 2008 at 10:36 am
It doesn’t matter how long we know someone. If they creep into your heart they are yours forever.
Hugs to you and to all her other loved ones, especially her D and the children.
May 3rd, 2008 at 11:18 am
I’ve no right to say this, but I feel sure that, knowing she had your wonderful family living so close to her own, would have brought C some measure of peace, and certainly a lot of pleasure during the time you spent together.
My thoughts go out to C and her family, you and your family, and all your community touched by this very sad loss.
May 3rd, 2008 at 12:34 pm
May 3rd, 2008 at 2:09 pm
Love you always xx
May 3rd, 2008 at 5:59 pm
May 3rd, 2008 at 6:17 pm
May 3rd, 2008 at 9:05 pm
Chin up, she’ll be watching you when you publish the first ‘At hone with EM’ cookery book, probably giving notes.
Massive hugs and raising a glass to ‘C’.
xxxxxx
May 3rd, 2008 at 11:42 pm
May 4th, 2008 at 8:29 am
May 4th, 2008 at 9:19 am
May 4th, 2008 at 10:52 am
May 4th, 2008 at 9:33 pm
Do not stand
at my grave and weep.
I am not there. I do not sleep.
I am a thousand winds
that blow.
I am the diamond glints on snow.
I am the sunlight
on ripened grain.
I am the gentle autumn rain.
When you awake in the
morning’s hush
I am the soft uplifting rush
of quiet birds in circling flight.
I am the soft star that
shines at night.
Do not stand at my grave and cry.
I am not there.
I did not die.
Anonymous
May 5th, 2008 at 10:23 am
May 5th, 2008 at 3:06 pm
My sympathies, EM.
She sounds like she was a wonderful person.
May 5th, 2008 at 4:56 pm
May 6th, 2008 at 6:37 am
May 6th, 2008 at 8:12 am
May 6th, 2008 at 1:04 pm
I never saw such a beautiful weekend as this weekend; surely heaven celebrating an end to pain and a beautiful soul coming home.
Beannacht Dia ar a hanam. (The blessing of God on her soul)
J x
May 6th, 2008 at 2:29 pm
May 6th, 2008 at 3:36 pm
Jen: Thanks, as always. Thanks also for the mercy dash and all your love and support this weekend. These funerals are so complicated! If I hadn’t had you I’d have been standing up when I should have kneeled and sitting when I should have been standing. Honestly, it’s like the bloody Mexican wave!! Mwah x
Nats: Thank you darling x
May 7th, 2008 at 9:50 am
June 24th, 2008 at 2:15 pm
[...] well as combining Mum/Dad duties at home. It’s now, unbelievably, nearly two months since their Mum died and with the added childcare pressures of the summer holidays, it’s a wonder he [...]