As I wrote in my previous post, Monday was the first anniversary of the death of my younger sister. As one would expect, it was a roller coaster of a day. I was fine until the first person said ‘And how are you?’
As I struggled to find the words that indicated I was fine, it soon became clear that I was not. It was a bit of a wet response there for a while as a heap of bottled up emotion overwhelmed me. It was tiring and exhausting and took me by surprise a bit. I went up to the cemetery later than planned and it coincided with a visit by my brother-in-law and two of my sister’s colleagues. My sister was partial to a celebratory gin and tonic, so in my backpack was a bottle of Bombay Sapphire, Tonic and several glasses. I also took some music.
It was drizzling lightly when I arrived, but that was OK. It was drizzling and mizzling a year ago as well. We exchanged our greetings and admired the flowers and roses and one of them remarked that what we really needed now was a G&T. I made her turn around and whilst they had been talking I had got myself set-up on the adjoining marble slab. A stiff drink all round, and the mood lightened considerably. We talked and we laughed and reminisced and admired the view and drank another, this time pouring a little on the grave as well for her benefit. Why should she miss out on the party? All the while, the operatic tones of Andreas Bocelli soared out across the valley.
A dear neighbour and family friend is not resting not far away, so I picked a bunch of wild flowers and rampaging freesias (it’s that sort of cemetery) and delivered them to her grave also. There was yet another neighbour a few plots away who had a tremendous collection of coloured pencils and used to keep me entertained for hours as a pre-schooler. I had a chat to her as well. All in all, it was a comforting visit.
I would not have described myself as a cemetery visitor, feeling that there was little solace in a collection of marble and tumbled headstones and faded plastic flowers. The setting of this cemetery makes all the difference though. It is in the Hills, and has a strong character of its own, with many unusual plantings, and different grave decorations. It’s a companionable place and one that feels appropriate to visit. We had a bit of a discussion about what to do with her grave, now that it has had a year to settle. Probably it will have a surround of sandstone built with an infill of soil in order that we can plant a garden of some sort. A bench seat will be inset at the bottom end, so that there will be somewhere to sit, besides on the adjacent marble slab. He plot is on the side of a hill, so by the time the grave surrounds are build, the foot end will probably be raised about 60 cms to bring it up level with the head end. The seat will be set into this elevation.
October does not sound the best of months for my family, but today is the anniversary of the death of our mother. That was eight years ago now, so it was more a day of reflection rather than mourning. She was always one for a coffee and cake though so when I met a friend at a beach-side cafe this morning, I had a coffee and slice of cake for mum.
It probably sounds silly, but my remaining sisters and I have been holding our breath around our father this month. He has recently been diagnosed with asbestosis, and healthwise things have been a bit of a struggle. There are only a few days left of the month though and in spite of the challenges, Dad is determined and stubborn. He will be around for a while yet.