Reaching for the Streamers
I have been on a journey since Aunty Annie’s funeral. It was actually a wonderful time meeting again all my lovely cousins; it is great to be related to such a nice bunch of people even if I seldom meet them!
However this ache of not having seen it coming, even though I saw her often and knew she was very old, would not go away.
So God in His mercy has opened up the reason and I have in prayer revisited it. You see, neither did I see my Mother’s death coming. It was sudden; I was unprepared and had no skills to handle it. Grief was ignored in those days one simply got over it.
I have seen myself again this week as I stood by Mum’s bed trying in vain to wake her up; it was probably good to linger there for a while even so many years later.
I think the Maori people grieve so much better than us ~ especially as we did it years ago. They sit by the person for days, talking to them or about them, not even trying to be brave and stoic but letting their love and grief flow. It must feel so much better.
Jesus wept at the tomb of Lazarus; even real men do weep being real! John 11.
Aunty Annie left a poem to the effect to ‘weep for me but not too much.’ I have done just that this week and for her eldest sister too.
However this ache of not having seen it coming, even though I saw her often and knew she was very old, would not go away.
So God in His mercy has opened up the reason and I have in prayer revisited it. You see, neither did I see my Mother’s death coming. It was sudden; I was unprepared and had no skills to handle it. Grief was ignored in those days one simply got over it.
I have seen myself again this week as I stood by Mum’s bed trying in vain to wake her up; it was probably good to linger there for a while even so many years later.
I think the Maori people grieve so much better than us ~ especially as we did it years ago. They sit by the person for days, talking to them or about them, not even trying to be brave and stoic but letting their love and grief flow. It must feel so much better.
Jesus wept at the tomb of Lazarus; even real men do weep being real! John 11.
Aunty Annie left a poem to the effect to ‘weep for me but not too much.’ I have done just that this week and for her eldest sister too.
posted by ElizabethB | 11:18 AM
1 Comments:
As someone who walks the grief journey may I say - be kind to yourself, go with the flow, take as much time as you like, tell your story as many times as you need to and give youself permission to grieve in your own unique way.
Janette
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