It was a lovely day today with the most wonderful morning I've experienced in a long time with a perfect cool, still, air that greeted you ever so freshly. I got to work early so got my almond filter coffee and sat reading 'A Room Of Ones Own' by Virginia Woolf, smiling at one line which I knew my Dad would appreciate;
"If truth is not to be found on the shelves of the British Museum, I asked myself, where, picking up a notebook and a pencil, is truth?"
Anyhow, here is something I wrote just a few days ago...
21 April 2013
This morning I sat on the sofa in the living room drinking my morning tea and I thought for the first time so clearly 'I really miss Mum. And I can't believe she's gone.'
When I arrived at work yesterday after lunch I received a text message from Dad saying "About to take to the skies in a Tiger Moth. Love you. Xxx." Dad and his friend Paul had headed out to Duxford Imperial War Museum that morning and it had briefly crossed my mind that on such a fine day, and with Paul's profession providing him with over 3000 hours of flying experience, that their jaunt might result in appreciating the vehicles from more than just ground level. So when I received this text I thought 'Dear bless us all' in a Mum-like fashion and got on with my shift. A few hours later I felt my phone vibrate, alerting me of another text message, and having forgotten about the message from Dad and it suddenly rushed back to me and the thought crossed my mind that this text could be one of more emergency... As soon as that clicked, a quivering peace reached consciousness that said 'if so, at least he died doing what he loved most', and that surprised me.
I don't worry like I used to though, to be honest I don't see the point. I dont' worry about others as much because I realise I can not change their immediate path, all I can do is prepare myself to be ready to help with whatever consequences that may come.
I imagine that, should I be blessed with children, this mentality with rapidly repent but for now I will enjoy not worrying.
"Therefore do not worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will worry about itself. Each day has enough trouble of its own."
So this morning I sat down on the sofa drinking my morning tea and I looked at the carpet with the dust bits on it, I thought of how I'll spend the rest of the day after church ceaning because when I get home from work in the week I'm exhausted. I thought of how Mum used to sit, with her tea on her lap, one leg over the other, with me, and how it seems a lifetime ago. It was actually 1/10th of my life ago, I think, and it occurs to me that when I'm 40 I would have lived more days without a Mum than with one, and how I have to accept it because 'that's life'.
Though I find it's not a hard thing to accept - 6 weeks ago I struggled to remember how many syrup and coffee shots were in a Caramel Macchiato compared with a flavoured Americano but now I can make drinks for hours without really thinking about it. I know how new habits can gasp fast and how some old habits die hard if you have no choice - but it's sometimes a hard thing to believe.
It's not a hard thing to accept but it's a hard thing to believe.
Saying that I think to when Christians take the communion and I think how it's not hard to know I'm forgiven, but believing it is another thing when I know what I've done.