It’s raining, it’s pouring…


Monday 21 October
Weather: Raining, funily enough…
Mood:. 7/10

Seven years ago today, my dear old dad keeled over and died. No warning, no serious illness. One minute he was here, the next he wasn’t.

This morning, I stood alone in the cemetery in the pouring rain. I was completely alone. Even the wildlife had stayed indoors. Alone in a grim place, for a grim reason, on a doubly grim day. Today had the potential to really bad day.

The loss of someone important is never easy for anyone, but the grim (apologies in advance for the over-use of the word grim, but it’s the perfect word to describe a ‘heavy weather day’ in an old industrial town in the north of England) reality is that we all die sooner or later.

It’s an unarguable fact, that everyone who has ever been born since the beginning of time will, at some point, die. No exemptions.

As I stood with the rain streaming down my face, something deep inside the darkest part of my soul stirred. A powerful feeling from my roots. But not a sad feeling, much to my surprise. A feeling that hasn’t graced my door for quite some time…

Today, in the middle of a grey cemetery, in torrential rain, two thoughts popped into my head. The first was the realisation that I really, really needed a waterproof coat.

The second thought was actually more of a feeling, but immeasurably more practical than the first. A super-quick fleeting feeling of hope found it’s way into my heart. A familiar, warm feeling that touched me to my very core.

Of course, the perfect end to this tale would have been that the rain stopped and the sun came out. But that’s not what happened. The rain continued relentlessly, but it was a good ending nonetheless…

Despite the pouring rain, it occurred to me that the kind of thinking that made me unwell, is definitely not the same kind of thinking that will help me to recover. That realisation alone gave me hope in my heart, if only for a fleeting moment.

That brief flicker of hope was enough to give me the energy to (a) force myself to go to the shop to buy a new coat and (b) make me resolve to spend a happy day on the same day next year.

The cycle path to the cemetery, truly did become the cycle path to happiness today and I know that dad, wherever he is, would be smiling right now…

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9 thoughts on “It’s raining, it’s pouring…

  1. Try to hold on to that feeling of hope! Symbolically the sun did come out for you, I hope you stay positive πŸ™‚
    X0

  2. And gosh what a truly grim day it was. Love and loss walk around hand in hand; best friends. To love someone, I think we all know deep in our bones at some point they have to go or we have to go. I think daily you are so courageous in your sharing of your journey. And for my part, I take much comfort in your blog. Many thanks, LV xx

  3. OMG! What an AMAZING post! I am elated to read this. Why just on Sunday I essentially had the same realisation and I chose to change my attitude so ‘the badness’ didn’t get me so bad each evening. It is draining me to the point of 6:00pm lights out but it’s worth all the mental effort to turn my thoughts around, stop the toxic thinking when I catch it, and make a concerted effort to find things to do to give my life purpose and my days meaning. It’s bloody hard work! But I’ve had a good 3 days and I look forward to more.

    I’m so inspired by your post, I’m glad I’m not the only one, I’m glad it’s not a secret and anyone can do it xo

    • I’m sure you’d agree that it sometimes feels like you’re doing a bit of a jigsaw. V e r y s l o w l y. . .
      And there’s no picture to help you out. That’s what it feels like to me. But very much like a jigsaw, you need to find the edges and corners first. What I have learned, the hard way, is that only you can reassemble the jigsaw of yourself. Others can encourage and support, but only you, and you alone, can put the pieces back together.

      Every time that I hear about other people and their own, distinct journeys, it gives me hope that I will one day have all my pieces assembled. And it gives me the courage to keep on ‘keeping on’.

      Huge bucketloads of Karma to anyone who is also treading this lonely path. X

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