The Gift of Memories

Hi,

If ever I needed a day of card therapy today was one of them! I haven't much to show for the last few days unfortunately as family life has taken precedence but have been working on a 'New Home' card that I will share once the recipients have received it.

Ninety years ago today Edith was born. I would have loved to have been making a fabulous 90th card over the weekend but bloody lung cancer took her away from us last year. My amazing, funny, strong, cantankerous, fiercely independent grandma. It is almost impossible to comprehend the changes in the world she saw over her lifetime. I admire the strength of character that defined her: in the absence of my grandpa during the war, raising two daughters whilst he worked away in Africa, and how she handled herself in the years following his premature death in 1989.

Grief has overwhelmed me today like a tide consumes the beach. Memories of her enjoying the garden, talking to me, discussing her latest plans, and holding my children have flooded in, causing my throat to tighten. I couldn't bring myself to sit at my desk but adopted my usual approach to feeling pain and that is to flit from task to task. Anyone that has experienced grief will understand feeling that the world is an unbearable place without that missing piece of your life.

But bearing pain and managing those feelings is an essential part of mental well-being. Life does continue and finding the resilience to be part of that life despite adversity is key. So tonight I when I watched my youngest son trying his hardest to throw a ball over the fence, and failing, and trying again, so enthusiastically; I smiled and looked at my husband smiling too. My family now wouldn't exist if it wasn't for Edith. Thank you grandma, for all you gave me xxx

Do not stand at my grave and weep

I am not there. I do not sleep.

I am a thousand winds that blow.

I am the diamond glints on snow.

I am the sunlight on ripened grain.

I am the gentle autumn rain.

When you awaken in the morning's hush

I am the swift uplifting rush

Of quiet birds in circled flight.

I am the soft stars that shine at night.

Do not stand at my grave and cry;

I am not there. I did not die.

(Mary Elizabeth Frye, 1932)

Love to all,

Emma x