Until a few months ago, I used to have my homepage set to my blogs home page. I used to like seeing if people had left comments etc. Then it started to upset me, that every time I went online, the words greeting me each day were the words, ‘Rest in Peace Dearest Dad’.
It’s not as though it’s something i need reminding of… and i didn’t have the inclination to write a blog post so i just changed my home page. But then for the last couple of months it’s been easy to avoidmy blog altogether, and I was toying with the idea of just not bothering to come back…everything looks lacklustre beneath the veil of mourning…triviality and meaninglessness are things to despise when pain knows no bounds.
But then not everything has to be deep and heavy, does it?
So I found myself here this evening, unexpectedly really…and decided to write a post to say whatever it is that i’m trying to say.
I have some apologies to make…i have recieved some lovely, caring emails from some lovely, caring blog buds and i have not got around to responding because i didn’t really feel up to it i guess. So Lorna, Alexa & Suz, Shell please accept my apologies. Apologies in advance if i am missing anyone out, i don’t mean to…i just have a poor memory. That you thought of me while i was absent from the blogosphere, was very much appreciated.
I’ll end this by saying that a few weeks ago, myself, Mum, my children and my brother, all went to a place of personal significance to us and to our dear departed loved one…and while there, we scattered Dad’s ashes….we said a prayer and then each threw a rose on the river.
Glancing at the calendar on my laptop as i write this, i realise that it is 3 months since Dad died. If absence makes the heart grow fonder then my heart could not hold more love for him or miss him more.
But it is the way of things that life continues without each of us…we only play our part in this great extravaganza of living for a short while, until we too must take our final bow…and for every pull of the heart towards oblivion when darkness has us in its clutches, there is still an identifiable will to survive and overcome.
Laughter escapes our mouths even in the midst of grief…sometimes at the most innappropriate times…and enjoyment, though perhaps tainted, can still be had…the various machinations that conspire to awaken us, to move us through each day and motivate us toward living don’t just do so as for an automoton…
There is meaning and purpose in living, it is called love….and it goes on beyond the grave.