It's been more than a month since I posted anything here. I hope you haven't given up on me. It has just been too eventful a time; I haven't had any energy or even moments to reflect here. So this is a little catch-up.
On Wednesday 5 March, my dear husband left on a trip to Australia to visit his family (from his first marriage). It is the first time he's been back there since we lost Catherine, and I guess for a long time it would have been really tough for me to be left alone. But I have been busier and more engaged with life recently, and I felt ready to "brave it". So I encouraged him to go on this trip; it was time. So that was Wednesday.
On Thursday 6 March, I got the final report from the Parliamentary Ombudsman for Health regarding my complaint into the care of Catherine by the NHS Trust prior to her death. It has been a long journey to get that, and though it was partially satisfactory, it wasn't entirely. Also, getting the "final" report was another ending. It left me quite shaky. (I may write about it more another time. I'm still trying to absorb it.) That was Thursday.
On Friday 7 March, approximately 8 am, I got a call from my older brother to say that my second brother J had unexpectedly collapsed and died. They live in another city, but I was able to get a train and get there within a couple of hours. J had been the full-time carer for my elderly mother, 91, with cancer and almost blind. She was confused and heartbroken, quite naturally. I know too much about being a bereaved mother.
And basically since that date, one month ago, I've been going back and forth between here and there. My mother is now in a nursing home but already frail before this happened, she has since deteriorated a lot, and will not last much longer.
If you have followed my blog, you know that trains have a lot of significance in my life's journey. Tomorrow I will be going to the station where I last saw Catherine alive--on exactly the 3rd anniversary of that trip to the station. From there I will be taking the train back to the other city...and it is possible--actually likely--that by the time I come back I will have said goodbye to my mother for the last time in this life. So this probably another final train trip.
There is a lot of sorrow and stress in all of this. But a few things have come into focus:
-- There is no bereavement like losing a child. No matter how much or little you love someone, there is a natural order in the death of the older person. It is painful, but somehow dealing with it is more within reach. But there is nothing "natural" about losing a child. That is agony, pure and simple.
-- To have lost both of my children, to be without the possibility of grandchildren, of descendants, to miss my children, is constantly with me. Sometimes the grief is more bearable than other times, but it is ever present. Nothing and nobody can take their place.
-- To be a Christian means to have hope, and to have love as the pre-eminent value in life. That is a REALLY GOOD THING! Whatever the next life holds, having the security of a God of love, who puts love at the top of his list, who loves us unconditionally, and teaches us to do the same, is what I value the most. Thank God for Jesus.
