Time marches on
Time stands still
Time on my hands,
Time to kill
Blood on my hands
And my hands in the till
Down at the 7-11
A gentle rain falls on me
And all life folds back into the sea
We contemplate eternity
Beneath the vast indifference of Heaven
Warren Zevon – ‘The Indifference of Heaven‘
Wow – time rolls on. I can’t believe it’s been a month since my last post. I can only apologise, because I honestly feel I’ve had nothing to say. I feel as though I have finally won my reprieve from the ‘small circles’ of grief, and am living again.
That is of course a wonderful thing, but it happens to the detriment of my blog, and the exclusion of you, my readers. Although I have not written for a time, you have been in my thoughts. I am trying to write an article for Leo Searle-Hawkins’ Break Out Of Your Grief newsletter ‘Yes You Can‘, but I find it somewhat disconcerting that my every attempt results in eulogising dear Chris. Surely I have done that enough already?
The world now knows what she means to me. The significant thing, I believe, is what I am trying to do because of her impact on my life. I wanted to write about the 22nd of January 2011 and how I came to a sort of peace with Kim’s death, but I realised that with a new audience, I couldn’t assume their familiarity with my friendship with Chris, and what happened to her. 750 words later, I am still talking about Chris.
I believe the piece will come together if it is meant to be. Of course, the concept of things that are ‘meant to be’ and I have a rocky relationship. I would have believed for certain that Kim was ‘meant’ to recover, but of course, that was not to be.
Whilst I am writing, I wanted to urge you to take a moment to spare a thought for my fellow blogger and griever Ellen Ross, who is participating in the American Foundation for Suicide Prevention’ s Out of the Darkness walk in New York today. She walks to honour several people, among them her friend Wayne Hightower, of whom she wrote movingly earlier this year.
Wishing you peace and strength on your journeys,