Thursday 30th April

Seven long, lonely weeks, and not a day goes by that I haven’t thought about you.
I may look as if things are normal, but behind the facade my heart is heavy.
This evening we go to your brother’s for dinner: he is cooking us a curry.

Out of the blue I ask him if he’s visited your grave. Yes!
I ask whether it was him who left the pink and white camellias. Yes!

Why I suddenly thought to ask him that I do not know.
It just came to me.
So, the mystery of your unknown visitor has been solved.
Your brother took it upon himself to come and say hello to you.

I think that is just lovely.
Love you both so very much. My two wonderful sons.
xxxx

Wednesday 29th April

On our walk around the town today we stop at the church and light candles for you. We sit for a few quiet moments, and reflect; silently the tears fall.

We are finding it so very hard to accept that you are no longer here with us.

Returning outside, we are bathed in bright sunlight, although it is still a bit chilly, and we make our way to a coffee shop to meet up with a friend we haven’t seen for many years.

We talk and talk, for almost two hours. Remembering our families and children who grew up in the town, and went to the same schools. It was lovely meeting up and reminiscing.

And of course we talked about you: your struggles and your achievements. The difficulties you faced and the wonderful experiences of the world that we were able to give you.

Just before leaving, she passed me a hand-written note:

“We will not all sleep, but we will all be changed in a moment, in the blinking of an eye, at the last trumpet.

For the trumpet will sound and the dead will be raised imperishable, and we will be changed.

For this perishable body must put on the imperishable, and this mortal body must put on immortality.

Now when this perishable puts on the imperishable and this mortal puts on immortality, then the saying that is written will happen.

Death has been swallowed up in victory.”

(1 Corinthians 15)

I read this through and wondered upon its meaning.

Does it mean that death becomes a door of hope?

Does it mean that the spirit is now free from the prison and the poison in the body?

I do hope your spirit is flying and soaring free. I do hope you are smiling down upon us. I do hope you can feel our presence at your graveside today.

And yet I still cry for you.

So unexpected.

So unbelievable.

Gone in the blink of an eye.

And the sadness we feel is immeasurable.

Tuesday 28th April

We bought two new plant pots for you today; a pink and a yellow dahlia. They just caught my eye as we were shopping, and I thought they’d look pretty on your grave.

When we walked up to where you are, it was quickly noticeable that someone had been to visit you. A very bright, fuchsia-pink camellia had been placed in the earth, with its shiny green leaves arranged just so. Upon looking further, I saw another white camellia flower placed on one of the letters of your name.

Who was this mystery visitor? Do you know them? Did they stay long and talk to you? I wonder who it was who took time out of their day to come and see you.

Somehow I feel quite sad, but also touched that you are being remembered by someone in this way. I wonder what you meant to this person?