DAY TWELVE

loving 

is the most 

creative

 force of the universe.

the memory of loving,

the most

destructive.

From 'How to Survive the Loss of a Love', by Harold H. Bloomfield, Melba Colgrave and Peter McWilliams.

And..

 for heaven's sakes ( and your own) don't blame yourself for any 'mistakes'( either real or imagined ) you think you may have made that brought you to this loss.

And...

You are not duty bound to feel pain any longer than it's actually there.

Healing is a testament to your recuperative powers not a condemnation of your inability to care.

There is a storm coming in tonight. Thunder and lightening crashing into the waves. The days speeding past...a holiday end approaching...still early days in this healing howling cauldron...

DAY EVEVEN

A dear friend once told me,

If life gives you lemons, make lemonade.

She didn't say you might have to climb the tree to pick them first.

Today I climbed a lemon tree and forgot to be afraid of falling. Afraid of falling through the great fissure in my life now.

DAY TEN

Started to think about Christmas and my other life......the one I don't know how to do any more.

Better to do this life  here and now -  one footstep in the sand at a time.

One mouthful of hazelnut ice-cream.

One page of my novel.

One sweet sparrow...

cleaning herself

feeding herself.

One crumb at a time. 

 

DAY NINE

A day out in the company of dear friends in their beautiful country.

 They never met Robin but they know illness and loss.

They live with it. With grace and humour.

 And magnificent kindness to me.