Today is the 14th wedding anniversary of our friends Pauline and Jim. They got married on the day of Princess Diana’s funeral, quite possibly one of the most surreal days in my living memory for all sorts of reasons. Today feels a bit like that.
Today in this current life the weather has been wild, windy, rainy. The views have been stunning, breathtaking, life affirming. We have spent time looking at property online and found various places where our dreams could start to come true. Ady and I spent about half an hour laughing our heads off outside in the crazy weather trying to get a big sheet of polythene over a stack of firewood to keep it dry while the wind whipped it from our hands and splattered the nasty smelly water that was covering it all over us. I love the elements, the idea of living here and being a tiny insignificant part of this landscape excites me so much, makes me feel alive.
Today a friend died.
Not a close friend, but someone I made memories with, someone who has children the same age as my own, someone who was a bright, beautiful, happy, laughing, loving, alive, vibrant person and now they are gone. Her legacy lingers on, in those children, people who loved her, memories of people like me whos lives were touched only briefly but touched just the same.
Today I have worried about rent going in, told my children off for being rowdy, eaten, drunk, slept, laughed, cried, loved, kissed and cuddled, worn my dungarees for the first time, sneakily scrawled my name on the underside of a windowsill in someone’s house as I painted the wall so a little piece of me remains there. Today I have lived.
When I heard Eira was ill I sent her an email.
I’ve just learnt in the last few weeks that you are ill, smiled at the
balloon flight pictures (it looked amazing), wept over your beautiful
wedding pictures (the love between you and Ade just leaps out of the
pictures) and thought about you, Ade, Lula and T every day.
I’ve been thinking I would write or phone or just turn up to see you and
indeed we’d love to see you but understand from Ali you are easily tired
and have so much going on at the moment. So I’m emailing. I’m not really
sure what to say; I want to rage with you against the unfairness of it
happening to you, I want to sob with you about the uncertainty of what
happens next, I want to offer any help – practical, emotional to all of
you but above all I think what I want to do is tell you what I think of you.
We don’t always get the chance to tell people what we really think of
them do we? It’s not appropriate to gush, or it’s not nice enough to
want to tell them anyway, lol. But here is what I have always thought of
you Eira.
You are courageous, brave and fearless. I think most Home Educators are.
Prepared to step outside of what everyone else does, take responsibility
for our own childrens education and put up with the daily questions from
strangers, the disapproval from others and the long term hope that we
are doing the right thing.
When we visited your home I was overwhelmed at the love within every
room – poems and pictures in the bathroom, childrens rooms filled with
toys and creativity, that fantastic birthday party when all the children
had their faces covered with flour playing some crazy game.
When we were at Magical Mondays you were always the adult listening to
the needs of not just your own child but others as well. I remember
making elephants with you out of milk cartons and scrap paper and
watching you admire the work of everyone at the table. You are patient,
kind, resourceful and loving.
I remember sitting with you on the grass in Pavillion Gardens, I think
it was for the bubble blowing and listening to you tell a story to the
children who were getting restless. Within moments you had them all
spellbound and hanging off your every word.
I was so in awe of you when Lula wanted to go to school. I know you knew
it probably wouldn’t last and yet you were prepared to listen to Lula,
let her make supported decisions and allow her to come back when she’d
discovered for herself.
I remember you arriving at Davies’ Doctor Who party with Lula and T in
their fabulous outfits.
Eira, I don’t know what happens after life, I have my own beliefs but
the thing I am most sure of is that however long a life is you have to
make it count, live it fully and above all make a difference to the
world by having been here. You have done all of those things, touched
others, been an amazing mother and partner, a wonderful friend, an
inspiring and guiding person. I feel priviledged to know you and call
you my friend.
Aw Nic. Crying now when I didn’t yesterday when I heard the news. A friend had a baby girl on the same day and I found out about that new life arriving and your friend’s life ending all within a minute. What a way to mess with my head. Love your email to her. I’m sure she did too.
Comment by Michelle — 07 September 2011 @ 6:36 am
lovely email. *hugs* xxx
Comment by Kirsty — 07 September 2011 @ 7:27 pm
*sniff* what a lovely email to send. Made me cry too.
Comment by Em — 08 September 2011 @ 5:28 pm