Where did the year go? Suddenly I am again plunged again into to quarts of vinegar,baskets of fresh fruit,raisins and spices. Some times it almost seems as if I can measure my life by these seasonal chores.
With the house to myself I fell to thinking about some of the many other years when this seasonal job was in hand,for once a sadness settled upon me as I remembered all those dear ones who are no longer here to taste the results of my labours.
My Father ,who taught me to make the special Christmas chutney which I made again today and who died twenty nine years ago.
Grandfather,kind and patient, granny bustling and not at all patient as far as children were concerned. My cousin,just a year older than myself who died last year,and so many friends,now gone. Of course new friends come ,but there are some special people in ones life who cannot be spared and whose loss is felt for ever.
Mourning takes many forms and there are some griefs from which I am sure there is no recovery, Not every day is marred by loss, one forgets for a time and then the pain returns with such a force of devastation that it seems the grief is new,raw,agonising. The mind shies away from the bleak emptiness,the huge hole in ones life that gapes like a wound and is terrible to contemplate.
When my work was done I took a ride to one of my quite places to have my cry out before returning home to prepare our meal. My grief is my own, it is all that is left of something so absorbing and intense and which cannot be shared,it lives within my secret self,and yet today the ache is so dreadful that I long to talk to some one;but it won’t do.
I shall regret this blog the moment it is posted and so to make some use of this out pouring of mawkishness let me say this,savour every moment, treasure every memory, enjoy all that is precious to you while it is in your power to do so. These things do not last for ever,the sadness they leave behind, often does.
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