Crock of Gold
Last time, I posted a photograph of a rainbow arcing across the sky, after I had climbed out of the ‘valley of despair’ to the top of the hill. This week I can tell you that the hope I inferred was justified.
A few weeks previously I had found a lump and been fast tracked for a scan. I had to entertain the possibility that my life may be shorter than I had imagined. What arose was this.
1: I want my life
4 years ago, I confess to feeling very differently. To quote Hamlet (possibly inaccurately), the “weary, stale, flat and unprofitable” greyness of my life in the wake of loss, – with a pop of colour in the shape of my daughter and despite kind friends, a cosy home, a beautiful environment to live in and a companionable dog – felt too heavy of a burden to carry. Not any longer: the grieving and the honouring have been composting, new shoots have been daring to put their heads above the soil line, I have capacity for life and I want to live it.
2: I cannot leave my daughter
Capable and wonderful as she is, having a young child and a partner with a demanding job, a house and barn to renovate and a business to run, is hard work. I choose to think, that even from afar, I make a difference. Plus, when I lost my son, she lost her brother. So, no, I’m not leaving, I told whatever it is that may be listening..
3: Doing can be left undone
The things I want to do are only important insofar as they are an expression of Love. They can all be left undone, only the love need find another form of expression.
4: This world is beautiful
The natural world and the natural state of the hearts of human beings are beautiful. The preciousness of this physical existence is unparalleled.
5: Something Relaxed
I noticed a band across my chest relax at the thought I may have only 5 years of life left to me. This surprised me and I enquired of myself. I realised that the fear of ‘not enough’ had let go. What financial resources I have are unlikely to last for a long life but are plenty for a short one. I was a little shocked and a little abashed.
Hospital
A dear friend took me to the hospital, a hospital where I had only ever received bad news – mostly for people I love. The diagnosis – God bless the consultant wielding the ultra sound scanner – was immediate: the lump is entirely benign. I felt as if I had been given my life back, like there was a zest in me for living that I hadn’t known in so many years of challenges, illness and exhaustion. My friend and I celebrated with coffee, pastries and tears.
That day, cliched as it sounds, I discovered the unbelievable depth of emeraldness of moss, that blackberry leaves are redder than I had ever noticed, that my dog is funnier, my bed is softer and my life is sweeter than I knew. This is my crock of gold.
Wake up
Wake up, my love, I told myself, wake up and love with all of your heart. Don’t strain, don’t push, but open and welcome. Remember your priorities. Remember that Love is the currency that matter to you. Love is the currency that grows the more you spend it and it will last your whole life, however long that is, and way beyond it.
I will forget. I will get stuck in a bog, revisit despair, rail at the rain and shout at the dog. That’s just how it is. But I hope I will remember again. Remember that this could all go in a moment. And one day it will. I hope on that day, I will be able to go with a heart as full as a crock of gold.
With my love
Nickie
PS If you have been less fortunate and are dealing with a diagnosis which is more difficult, I hope very much that this blog is not tactless or clumsy. I wish for you as I wish for myself, however long or short our lives may be, that you walk with Love and Kindness, holding the hand of Peace through thick and thin.
NEWS
Walking with Loss, Together:
Our first 6 week long group has completed. I could tell you it was beautiful, moving and worthwhile and it was. But better some of the participants tell you:
“Gentle, nurturing, skilfully held… a journey filled with unconditional love… a blueprint for the future… inspiring and supportive… the solace of nature… I can talk about grief now”.
Emma Capper and I hope very much to develop the project – other groups, other vicinities, day events, commissioned events. Grief is common, sharing it with others and developing resources to be with it in a way which warms and expands our hearts, is not. As sole traders there are very few strands of sponsorship open to us. We may be able to become an organisation that can attract grants but we are not that yet. If you know of grants we might be able to pursue or would like to sponsor us for a day event for your group in the South Devon area, please get in touch with me here.
Rememberance Sunday:
In the UK, this Sunday it is Remembrance Sunday, the day red poppies are worn to remember the blood spilt on the battlefields in the First World War, and in subsequent conflicts. Personally, I would like to remember all people killed or suffering as a result of war – civilians as well as armed forces, men, women and children. They have lost their lives because somewhere along the line, those entrusted with the power and responsibility for leadership, have betrayed it and forgotten the sanctity of life.
My prayer is for them to remember….
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How beautiful to read your ‘crock of gold’ and hear your joy of new shoots emerging. I celebrate the good news with you, and yes – love in many different expressions is what really counts.
Thank you, Marion. xxxx