22nd August 2025
Last Goodbyes
Thinking of this time last year :
Being the summer holidays, there were visits from family during these days, as there usually were.
For some it was the last time they saw their Dad, or Grandad or brother , or uncle. Three weeks later he was to die.
And actually, how can that even be true??
That he died
That 49 weeks ago, he died ???
He So long ago, and yet, it seems as if everything has just happened.
It's such a different world without him. A world I have no idea how to navigate yet. Nothing, not keeping busy, not being with family, not watching TV or reading, no nothing takes the place of him being here.
And I wish I'd realised while I had it, the pearl of life that was mine, mine and his, ours.
No, not everything was perfect, but it was "ours" and I miss it . What is my life now, I ask.
Who am I ?
One day after another goes by, goes by, and I put one foot in front of the other. I hear him say it:
"Just put one foot in front of the other. Get on with it girl, you've got work to do." I hear it. But how? No one tells you how!!!
But I apologise , I digress with all this "me" stuff. Let's go back to the memories of those last days before we went on our Camino.
I remember going to Liz's on 15th August to help her pack the van. In my mind, because he always would have done, I imagine Peter there helping. However, I realise when reading through my journal that he didn't come. Funny how the memory works. So the journal helped jog the old memory and I conclude that the last time Peter saw them all was the day before, the 14th. And, I remember that he didn't come because he felt he wasn't able for the heavy work, which he wouldn't be able to avoid taking on. Luckily, Dave, Ben's was amazing and packed up everything in a meticulous fashion, with help from the army of children and others.
They left for Hereford the next morning, the 16th August, and Peter didn't even get to see where they were. That was a shame. He'd have love it, especially the countryside and the mountains. Yes, he'd have had a great time there.
That same morning Peter and I worked hard to get the house ready for our visitors. Changing beds, cleaning, going shopping. I miss him these days for the changing of beds. Kate and Jo, with their families, were coming to us for one night on their way home from their holidays in Europe. Jo was also collecting George, their dog, who'd spent a week with us.
We chatted, I recall, as we worked together, about our upcoming Pilgrimage, which was now only days away. I was getting anxious about it, thinking we'd maybe bitten off more that we could chew. But my dear hubby, in his usual loving stlye put my mind at rest.
They all turned up the next day, the 17th. We'd planned to stay in the camper, making it easy for the eight of them to fit in the house. We stayed up chatting till gone 11 pm. I so wish I could remember the conversations , but suffice to say, Peter would have talked all things Pilgrimage, music and grandchildren, because that was his way.
We all went to Mass together the next morning and it was a precious moment lighting a candle with two of the grandchildren who'd made their First Holy Communion in June. They were so sincere and ernest as they remembered and prayed for a close family member who was dying. We even sang a hymn together, one they both knew, "As I kneel Before You". This Grandma's heart was swelling, as I rubbed the tears from my eyes.