« 39 A sad, sad day | Main | 41 A day on the beach »

September 14, 2007



I went to a similar funeral (the wonderful writer Siobhan Dowd) just a few weeks ago -- and despite the funeral being devastatingly sad, I came away with the lovely image of her wicker coffin, like a giant picnic basket! I will forever think of her opening the white wine and tucking into salmon sandwiches on cloud nine.


I've just stumbled on your blog and found your account of the memorial service very moving. What's the matter with me? Here I am wiping tears away. I didn't know your dear friend, I don't know you - but in a flash I am thinking about my mother, my father, Fiona W, Wendy N, Mark P, Joyce H, friends and colleagues and family members who have battled with illnesses and gone. So thankyou for that - it's good to remember them. Then I thought about us, the ones left behind, feeling a little deserted (Aha! That explains the tears - they're for me!) The only way to win is to do as you are - balance getting well with living a life - speak out bravely and honestly so that we all share in it - that way when we are touched by it, or our friends or families, we aren't afraid. None of us know how long we are going to be around so we might as well share as much as possible of our time with the ones we care the most about. It could be an illness, it could be a bus. I shall read you every day from now on to make sure you haven't forgotten your Green Cross Code. I hope your hair grows back thick and curly just as Cathy O's has - she has just enrolled at college to study fashion design after two years of treatment including chemo.


Sounds like a wonderful send off for your friend. The DH and two sons have some difficult times ahead, but it sounds like they have lots of friends and still they will miss that female touch about the home. Sad - no other word for it.
Lusting through the runner beans! That made me smile. I have been gardening like a mad fool lately. I find this time of year a bit melancholy, so decided to get out and take it all out on the garden. It works. I have been dividing my hostas and putting them in their new spots and generally tidying. I have worked out so many things in my garden - grief being one of the big ones!
Sorry to hear you are feeling a bit low - both mentally and physically - but things will start to improve since you are done with chemo! Hooray!
We went down to the wharf today and got a tuna loin and John is going to cook up a nice meal. It was flash frozen at sea, so it should be delicious. I will raise a glass of white wine to you, Jeannie, and to your dear friend.


Forgive me if this sounds crass, but I should think your Friend would be very touched to read what you've written about her.

The comments to this entry are closed.