May 2014

[Sweder]

Blue skies and strong sunshine coaxed me out for a pre-breakfast shimmy. So it came as quite a shock when a spiteful, icy wind cut me in half at the first turn onto the downs. Despite thirty five minutes' honest toil up hill and down dale my hands never got warm. A few rusty creaks and groans aside I felt good, settling into my lazy stride to chug along at a modest pace.

Yesterday, almost a year to the day since she passed away, we gathered the clan to bid farewell to Mum's ashes. She'd asked for her remains to be scattered over the south face of Box Hill, a spot with a view across the fields and forests stretching off towards the coast. Clouds scudded across the valley as we stood in quiet reflection before I read the Ishi funeral prayer. The words sum up Mum's feelings about leaving your family and how those left behind should deal with their loss.

When I am dead
Cry for me a little
Think of me sometimes
But not too much.
Think of me now and again
As I was in life
At some moments it's pleasant to recall
But not for long.
Leave me in peace
And I shall leave you in peace
And while you live
Let your thoughts be with the living.