Friday, May 25, 2007

A lone bagpiper played for him.

Don's Funeral was held at our place and a lone bagpiper played for him in the late autumn sunshine. After the shit which went on and his suffering, the girls and I sat side by side, and no tears at all much. There was a feeling of marvellous calm. He was piped down our long driveway and again at the cemetary which is at Wauchope and surrounded by gum trees... we are traditionalists this way.

The girls are still with me and will be till next Wednesday, and we are enjoying home, the warm sunshine, the feeling that his garden has been left to us as a sort of gift for this time. As bad as things were and no doubt will be, we have all felt this wierd calmness. I have no doubt that when thegirls return home they will experience the same grief I did for my own father, but for now there is a feeling of peace, and relief for him.

The young man playing the pipes was to play at our daughter's wedding which was to be held on Sat. 19th of this month. He will still do so all going well, in a while.

This was read out at the service and I gave it to him some time back.

The Man and Me
Sleeping at night my palm opened flat on his chest,
Warmth feeding warmth, I know we are blessed.
No matter the day’s misunderstandings and blues;
No matter points made and lost;
No matter who thinks who’s the boss;
Sleeping always next to him is the life I would choose.

Re arranging pillows, blankets and such;
Both easy to fire off, yet both easy to touch.
Each unwilling to give way, equal to the end.
The Celt in us both, a marvellous brew,
Stirred and stirring, a wondrous stew.
Sleeping hand to chest our rousing battles mend.

Ah! And give me that fire, pure and unpolished,
And give me the spirit, no argument undemolished,
And give me the wickedness and its play,
Give me the empathy and knowing
Give me the common sense for our growing.
And let us wake hand to chest at the start of the day.

How dear to me is the man who breathes beside me at night?
How dear is the spirit, which gives his eyes their light?
How dear to me is the world we share?
There is no measure I can explain
But that his pain gives me also pain
And that our love is sometimes more than we can bear.

For me he stands, young, fair and clear-eyed as in youth.
For me, the things he feels I know, they are truth.
And I will hold these truths like rare and precious treasure,
For in a shifting sea of easy useless lies
The values of such truths are cherished ties
To the love which lives within the heart which is without measure.

So let me lie for hours, my hand upon his chest,
Thinking on the treasures with which we are blessed.
Such as our children treading out into the world to be,
Carrying the dreams of all our life;
Treasures as sacred as the man and wife
And as sacred as the love which binds the man to me.
With Love Therese

In a while, a week or so, I will catch up with all of you who have given me don't disappear okay.


cs said...

The love that pours out from you is a blessing and gift to all of us. I was so touched by your truly beautiful, friend. It was good to hear you speak today...been keeping an eye out for you. Enjoy your garden. Yes, the grief will wash over the girls...we never seem to escape that. I remember mine all too well. Your words have lifted me up today. Hugs friend...a big hug. CS

Pat said...

All in good time MC, all in good time. I will be here as I have been, and others too. But you take all the time you need, we'll be here when you're ready.

Cazzie!!! said...

I am so glad the poem you wrote was read out, it is so apt.
I can envision the scene you vividly paint of the bagpiper and the gum trees and he Sunshine.
Peace unto you all... huggs Carolyn.

Jules said...

What a lovely end to what sounds like a very brave and full life.

That poem hit me deep in the heart. I know exactly the moment you describe, I often have that moment, after a day of niggling arguments, snide remarks and exasperation at why they just don't understand your point of view - and you still love them with every cell in your body and that hand on chest is the safest feeling you have ever known.

You have a gift Therese.

Harmony said...

I have been popping by every day to see how you're going Therese. Your poem was indescribably beautiful and you inspire me and I'm sure many others with the immense courage you are showing.

A lot of people will be here for you when the inevitable bad times hit and I hope we will be able to offer you some measure of comfort. I have learned more than ever lately that the people of the blogosphere are a kind, compassionate bunch so please let us help you if we can.

mirk said...

I did leave a comment here yesterday which seems to have gone so I won't repeat myself just in case it offended in some way and was thus was deleted.

Great poem/eulogy Don would have been proud I'm sure!

And no hurry take all the time you need I ain't going anywhere!

jin said...

Glad to hear you get to spend more time with your girls.
I second what eternally curious said. Take your time.

Anonymous said...

No words, just thoughts.
Charlie, Nicki and Amy

mirk said...

Here is the bit that went astray, it's not really that much.

It was the mention of Don's garden that made me include it. A thing our family tend to do when a loved one passes away is to put in a memorial plant in the garden. eg a tree.

Although we never forget!! It is nice to watch it grow and mature. I
Also in my grans case some of my kids were to young to really remember her but they all know that is their great-grans tree when they pass it. I suppose it's just a way to keep the memory going for younger generations. :0)

Lorraine said...

Just lovely...we all should be piped out, when the time comes. Blessings.

rosemary said...

Still with you, rosemary

Princess Banter said...

I'm so sorry for your loss *holds your hand* love and prayers are with you

Unknown said...

I posted here before, and apparently it didn't "stick". I just wanted to say, Therese, you know I'll be here for you, always.

Keshi said...

whatever we may think, all of us come into this world alone, struggle alone and die alone...

Don is now free.