In Dreams I walk With You and Nelson Mandela
Without Prejudice
My Loved brother Jamie on right.
It's been a tough week, this week, but full of joyous moments, bustle and busyness. I am sure the bee that bit me on the toe, (God, it hurt, ) was a reminder to get busy. I decided me and only me would decide what I was doing to do on the day. Saturday the 30th of November. The day that my older brother Jamie died aged 11 and my youngest daughter, Lauren, aged 12.
For one family to lose two wonderful children on the same day, 32 years apart, is a bizarre and heartbreaking coincidence. Incomprehensible. But it happened. This year I decided that it would be a celebration of life not a sad time. Two loving kids would not want people to mourn but to celebrate life as it is. To see the beauty in Christmas preparations, a baby shower, parties, gift giving and receiving. They both there in spirit, joining in.
I didn't go to her grave this year. Because to me she is not there. I will go this week and take her flowers, just like she would do for me or anyone else for that matter.
I hate going there. I feel it more. I prefer to think of her as " somewhere.", Just somewhere, and that in dreams we walk. Together once again, hand in hand, her small brown hand in mine, trusting, compliant, a life well lived, a spirit I helped to mould.
I played " Sweet Child Of Mine ", loud enough for the whole neighbourhood to hear and Patience and a Free Fallin and cried, then wiped my eyes and just got on with " everything else "
And " everything else" became, Paul Walker dying, shockingly young, loved by everyone he came into contact with. To see his Dad barely able to speak or comprehend what had happened was heartbreaking to watch. I don't like the way they interview people after a tragedy. I know from experience you barely know your own name at that stage.
And the world mourns the death of a gentle soul, Nelson Mandela, an inspiration for all, now that's a great way to bee/be
Nette x
My Loved brother Jamie on right.
It's been a tough week, this week, but full of joyous moments, bustle and busyness. I am sure the bee that bit me on the toe, (God, it hurt, ) was a reminder to get busy. I decided me and only me would decide what I was doing to do on the day. Saturday the 30th of November. The day that my older brother Jamie died aged 11 and my youngest daughter, Lauren, aged 12.
For one family to lose two wonderful children on the same day, 32 years apart, is a bizarre and heartbreaking coincidence. Incomprehensible. But it happened. This year I decided that it would be a celebration of life not a sad time. Two loving kids would not want people to mourn but to celebrate life as it is. To see the beauty in Christmas preparations, a baby shower, parties, gift giving and receiving. They both there in spirit, joining in.
I didn't go to her grave this year. Because to me she is not there. I will go this week and take her flowers, just like she would do for me or anyone else for that matter.
I hate going there. I feel it more. I prefer to think of her as " somewhere.", Just somewhere, and that in dreams we walk. Together once again, hand in hand, her small brown hand in mine, trusting, compliant, a life well lived, a spirit I helped to mould.
I played " Sweet Child Of Mine ", loud enough for the whole neighbourhood to hear and Patience and a Free Fallin and cried, then wiped my eyes and just got on with " everything else "
And " everything else" became, Paul Walker dying, shockingly young, loved by everyone he came into contact with. To see his Dad barely able to speak or comprehend what had happened was heartbreaking to watch. I don't like the way they interview people after a tragedy. I know from experience you barely know your own name at that stage.
And the world mourns the death of a gentle soul, Nelson Mandela, an inspiration for all, now that's a great way to bee/be
Nette x
