I was tidying up in the Utility this morning, hanging up the Army jackets I'd taken to the boot sale yesterday. I moved one of Keith's army jackets (going nowhere as it has so many memories attached) - it still had the sleeves rolled up as he always wore it, and there were hankies still in the pockets, and something hard - a Sheffield made penknife he had obviously bought at a Fair when we were out in the last year when he was still mobile. It hit me SO hard - like a wallop with a baseball bat, and the tears overwhelmed me. I took myself upstairs with Luna Lapin and a stitch ripper, and took the horrid thick material off her ears and found some of the prettiest cotton lawn in a delicate print, to replace it. (Sharon, the fabric used was very thick and had to come off, rather than be sewn over). I have done both ears, sewn one back on and am going to do the other and the feet this evening. I had to be distracted or I'd have been crying all day. (Yes, and I know you will say that I need to). Anyway, the distraction worked, especially as I will be tidying Luna up for Rosie. I have found some fabric for her dress now too - plenty of fat quarters in my stash. Photos to follow. The big ugly stitching needs unpicking too, and I will replace it with some Feather Stitching I think.
Anyway, I took myself off to auction - SUCH a lovely drive at this time of year and worth going out for that alone. Plus it is held in one of the wonderful black and white villages of Herefordshire. I wanted pots/planters and ended up buying 3 5-pot lots, 15 in all, various sizes. Not my first choice, but those were a) too heavy or b) too expensive - four new ones went for nearly what you would pay at the garden centre!
I also bid on, and won, two wonderful 1930s hand carved Indian marionette elephants. They are a joy.
Cottage at Llandegley, where I stopped to view the church on the way home (or rather, way from the auction to Llandod for shopping).
On the way back, I stopped at this lovely old church, so will share it with you later in the week. There was a thunderstorm wherever I was this afternoon - it even followed me home to Builth and chucked it down when I arrived, so I had to wait for it to leave off for a bit before I could unload the shopping. Clear blue skies now.
I am glad I went out - the Hawthorn is amazing at the moment, and masses of deep pink Red Campion on the verges. The roads were covered with bits of tree blossom and brown leaf covers, shaken off the trees. It was raining Hawthorn petals at one point. Tomorrow, a WALK. Meanwhile, I am back to Luna Lapin restoration.
You made me think of my Aunt today. She lost two of her children in accidents, one knocked off his bike on the way home from school and the other killed by falling milk crates at a dairy. One 12 and the other 14, I think. They had a farm and the childrens' wellies were above the door on a shelf and she insisted they stay there which they did until she died decades later. I bet that has cheered you up (not). If my husband goes first I don't know how well I will cope. Several of my friends have lost their husbands recently and honestly it amazes me they are still upright. I predict I will go to bed for a month, however I am learning a lot from you so we will see, if and when the time comes.
ReplyDeleteYes, there are things with connections which cannot go just yet. Gabby had one of her dad's ancient (1970?!!!) and worn thin t-shirts that he'd got in Florida I think. She framed it. I can understand why your cousins' wellies stayed on that shelf forever. How dreadful to lose two children on the cusp of growing up.
DeleteAs for being widowed - it's crap - but you have to carry on somehow. There's not a minute of any day when I don't miss him, and tears are always close, but I know he would have wanted me to carry on and enjoy doing what we used to do together, so I try my best. I enjoyed the auction yesterday - decision making is good for building confidence.
Hugs sweetheart, all quite natural, I said it would happen. Its a strange combination especially with the loss aspect, but the love is never-ending, it travels and encompasses wherever it is. It is a witness to what was but it is the aching chasm it leaves behind and the fact that you cannot wrap your arms round him and feel his closeness. It is eternal all encompassing. Eventually it happens less, but each time it does it is a release. It will not mean you will forget him rather the contrary you feel it more and deal with things in a different way. Take your time, hold your memories close they are yours to travel and visit to as you wish. We are taught to love from an early age, but not really how to deal with the loss of someone so important and it is so different person to person. It is a celebration of someone's life force. Even now 16 years after my father passed I still well up and I still cry. I often feel my parents near me though, just separated by the veil. Rosie is going to love that Rabbit. Totally agree with you that the yellow was not really fitting. Glad you had something to focus on, and think your thoughts by methodically working on something special for the next generation. Love as always and hugs. Tricia xx
ReplyDeleteThankyou Tricia. Wise words. As long as I keep busy, I can cope, but sometimes it just hits me. Last week it was when I was driving down the A40 to Carmarthen, and passed the turning to our old house. Driven past it several times since Keith died, but this time suddenly it hit me.
DeleteMy dad died in 1980 and I still miss him so and suddenly well up on occasion when I think of him. After he died I didn't think I would ever stop crying.
Luna Lappin looks better already, now I've done her ears. Will sit in the garden and sew later.
Hugs sweetie, hugs. I have just been in the garden started on a small corner full of rubbish up near the greenhouses. Blessed Ivy, still I might plant some of the runners up for hanging baskets. There is always a silver lining. Looking forward to see what you have done with Luna Lappin. Those ears did irritate you, mind you I can see why. They are lovely Rabbits. xx
DeleteI've unpicked and sewn various bits of her and she's looking a lot better now. Will put photos up tomorrow. Glad you've cleared another bit.
DeleteGrief hits at unexpected times and places. Looking forward to seeing the pictures of the church.
ReplyDeleteGod bless.
It was very plain, but had an early font and some nice stained glass.
DeleteI am busy in the garden today, so hope to be on a more even keel.
There are the predictable things that trigger a fresh outburst of grief and then the totally unexpected moments that catch us. When Jim's father died [years ago] we were somewhat braced for it as he had an invasive cancer. He died at their retirement home in Georgia and a service was held there. I then had to organize another service for the many relatives in Vermont. We got through that fairly well. Months later I was working in the garden, harvesting beets, suddenly recalled that every summer when he and Jim's Mom came for the summer he wanted pickled beets with every meal but breakfast. And there I sat--weeping into my bucket of dirt-caked beets.
ReplyDeleteI think working at a quietly creative task--the restoration of the bunny--was probably a good choice.
I can understand that connection. There are still certain things in the supermarket which I got Keith, especially when he could manage less and less - I can't look at a rice pudding without it hitting me - but sometimes I go somewhere we loved and I'm perfectly ok. Another place where we didn't have that connection so much, but a memory will hit me.
DeleteI agree, bunny restoration good for grief . . . especially as it is for Rosie, who reminds me so much of Keith.
I've never been sure about the 'have a good cry' thing - it always made me feel much worse - we're all so different I guess.
ReplyDeleteThe elephant marionettes sound curious and fun.
When my dad died I couldn't stop crying, for weeks and weeks. My ex-husband told me to stop it. I just hope that when his dad died he knew what grief felt like. I cry when I can't stop it, but not for long. Like you with Colin, you just wish you could turn the clock back and everything was well again. . .
DeleteNearly 14 years on without my very special and amazing husband I find that many of my friends are now losing their husbands or wives. Grief comes and goes but it often brings a positive. Nobody knows what it is like until you are truly on your own, life becomes so hard not just because you are mainly doing every single thing on your own and having to learn how to do so many things on your own. I'm looking forward to seeing Luna in a pretty dress - it reminds me that I still have an unstarted and unopened pack to make a Luna somewhere in my house! (Anon in Wiltshire!)
ReplyDeleteI find it's difficult with lifting things (boxes at Fairs - Keith always did that and could do two at a time!) He did anything electrical, anything with wood, mending things, we shared the driving when we were tired, had the greatest fun literally living off our wits and would scamper round at Malvern like spring lambs! We had SUCH FUN together. That's what I miss, as he had a wicked sense of humour. Ahah - I bought the felt for Luna - know exactly where it is too - but didn't have a reason to make it until now. I feel with all the unpicking I'm doing, it would have been easier doing it from scratch!
DeleteI am in no position to comment on the loss of a loved one, having several failed relationships. What I did find is that when people let you down the best thing you can do is get back up again and keep busy. I hope your hurt lessens over the next few years.
ReplyDeleteNo, but you have lost your parents, you have lost precious animals - that is a similar sort of grief in its initial intensity. You're right, keep going and keep busy. I enjoy doing things we enjoyed doing together (auctions, Fairs and what have you). The grief will fade over time, but I will never stop missing him.
DeleteI had an inkling that Luna was destined to become Rosie's. You will be able to make her a whole wardrobe of little outfits. It was clever of you to quickly immerse yourself in a task that you really wanted to do, and yes the tears will still come, but more gently hopefully. xx
ReplyDeleteWell, initially she saved me not making the one I had the book and fabric for, but then the amount of unpicking and resewing I've done . . . When I am feeling low, doing something nice that I want to do is good.
DeleteAw love, no shame in tears and it was a lovely memory too.. I cant imagine the loss you feel except to say, its 80 years since my mother died and left me age 2 1/2 I only have a very faint memory of her but I cry at her grave when I take flowers.. Every Blessing for you
ReplyDeleteOh how awful to lose your mother when you were so young. Your sense of loss must be incredibly deep still. (((HUGS))) Chris.
DeleteYou know, grief is a strange thing. My dad was a gruff character. Often cruel. I never quite understood why he was so angry. He died in 2001. I cried, of course, but mostly because I'd always kind of hoped that we would get to the point of sorting it out. Except he was gone, and the chance was lost. I was a customer service representative, and I took a call one night from a man who had the same low growly voice as my dad. It really was quite a shock to hear that. But he was such a pleasant person, friendly. When the call was done, he said in my dad's voice, "You have a nice evening, my dear." That's all. I disconnected the call, put my head in my hands and had a quiet cry.
ReplyDeleteAll this to say, triggers can be pretty random. Your loss is still quite recent.
What a shame you and your dad never really gelled. I can understand your sudden tears though, and perhaps your wishing your dad had been friendly like that.
ReplyDeleteYes, things are still so raw. Just writing that has brought tears to my eyes.