the fresh air of normality

Bit by bit the harsh and sore reality of death sets in.

Bit by bit the people who've been present, and who by their very presence formed a warm protective cushion round our tender hearts, drift off and leave us to ourselves. And rightly so.

The starkness of a loved one being no longer there is something that we slowly must engage. That telling 'void' cannot be long avoided.

And so, as each day passes by, normality returns.

Except it's not normality at all! The routines of our daily lives are taken up again. And bit by bit the comfort of a crowd of friends and family all at hand is eased away.

The strip of padded sticking plaster requires to be removed. The wound needs air. The fresh air of normality returns.

Today's been one more step back to normality. A meeting with the lawyer while the four of us were still all there. A little bit of catching up on various different sequels to the service here on Monday at midday. And, once again, goodbyes.

My brother and his daughter heading back again to Zambia. These past few days (not even one whole week) a sudden 'blip' of richly blessed reunion in the pattern of his being away to which we've only just got used.

Hard to see them go and say goodbye. Again. The very saying 'goodbye' itself another painful echo of that deeper, yet more painful sort of parting that these past days have involved.

And my sisters, too, will be heading off tomorrow. And the sense of isolation and of being here on my own to grieve my Mum will then, I guess, be thoroughly complete.

The service back on Monday was the high point when the healing touch of God himself was manifestly evidenced in all our lives. But healing needs not just the soft, protective gauze of moments such as that. It needs, as well, fresh air.

Normality.

Tomorrow that kicks in big time.