Rest

There was a slight coolness hanging in the air. It had been such a hot day that this was a welcome relief, an oasis in the desert.

And the smells? Freshness, nature, just summer.

The birds were coming home for the evening, their calls to each other giving some life to the day as evening drew near and the sun began its decent.

The peace was shattered by a cackle, just a neighbour laughing as her children squealed, enjoying their garden playtime.

The breeze picked up a little, the clouds gathered together.

The cat meowed through the window at her, just a greeting, saying hello.

With such a tranquil scene it was hard to believe that the world was in turmoil.  That away from this blissfulness a pandemic was attacking the world, etching away at the things people believed in.  Taking lives, changing others.  The world wasn’t the same.  Fear was a constant.  Worry was loud for so many.

Yet in those moments all was forgotten. Life seemingly frozen. Peace, calm. Just being. And rest.

A Christmas letter to Mum

So another Christmas time is over  It’s the seventh since you left us.  I try to celebrate and enjoy Christmas because I know how much you loved it.  I remember the stories you told me about the Christmasses of your childhood and I wish I had more of those stories to recall.  I put up the decorations, dress the tree the way you taught me, write the cards, light the candles and even wrap the presents – not that I’ve managed to perfect that skill to your standards yet but I strive to get there!  Dad has been staying with me for a while and Christmas isn’t really his speciality so I’ve been on my own really getting things done & trying to do things for him too.  I really miss you.

I did all the prep and I celebrated with the family and it was good.  I enjoyed Christmas.  I love spending time with my niece and nephew.  They’re great young people and you would be very proud of them.  But there’s still been an empty space throughout it all.  The seat at the Christmas dinner table, the space on the sofa.  Someone to share Christmas morning bacon sandwiches with.  Someone to help me decorate the tree – I really do need your eye for perfection when I’m doing that and I could always use your suggestions for making everything look nice.   I always miss you.

I know you would have liked the tree, the candles, the decorations.  I’ve used some of the things you bought me in Holland & Belgium.  So you have still had an input in things.  But to be honest, you are all around me and in everything Christmas.  The traditions I have, the memories I hold dear, even some of the actual decorations.  They’re all because of you.  You hold a huge space in my heart always, particularly during December, the month when you left us and when we said that hard goodbye.   I never forget you but I miss you.

As I look at your photo, the candles, the decorations, everything that is Christmas all around me, I know you would want me to be happy.   I know that you would have enjoyed this Christmas.  You would have laughed with us when we were playing games.  You would have enjoyed the food.  You would have been proud of everything we did.  And no, you weren’t with us physically but you were still with us.  And even though I miss you, I can smile at your memory, at all those things I hold dear.

I wish I wasn’t writing this as a letter but that I could tell you in person, but that’s not possible.  At the start of this new year, as Advent draws to an end, I smile at your memory and I miss you. x