Today was a rainy day in more than one respect. The weather behaved as if to mourn the grim statistics revealed at today's daily government briefing.
It is not that the figures revealing deaths outside of the hospital context were unexpected, but the confirmation of what we were all fearing, will remain a sobering and distinctive moment in these solemn times.
My Mother died in a care home a few years ago - with all her family present; it was a distressing and almost unbearable time, but I can not imagine how we would have coped had we not been able to visit and be by her side. Her brother died in early February this year, also in a care home - just as we were starting to hear more about coronavirus and it began to show up here in the UK. We travelled freely to attend his funeral in Scotland. It was a valuable time in which connections were renewed and memories shared. How much more difficult, would the marking of his passing been, without this opportunity for collective respect and recognition of his life.
Each individual loss under today's circumstances is heart breaking. Who can ever count the toll?
My garden rose met an untimely demise at the weekend, when it was cut in error in an over enthusiastic attempt at dead heading. I dedicate this recollection of its delightful and important presence in my garden, yet taken in its prime, to any who are suffering loss at this moment. My prayer, that you might come to find comfort in happy memories, shared experiences together, and a bond that can not be broken despite the loss of physical presence.
Beautiful words.Your picture is a perfect tribute. How does life ever become normal again? My husband is shielded due to a kidney transplant, so even when the lockdown is lifted, he will still be nervous to go back to work. He's a manager in a hospital, he manages all the porters, house keepers etc. so he will never be safe until there is a vaccine.. I can't think past one week at a time.
I pause. I read your words a second time and pause again. Wow. Your picture...your words...so touching. I don’t have words of my own to properly express my emotion; so I’ll just say “Thank you, Helen.”
