Rest In Peace

It was a beautiful day. February sun in a clear blue sky; cold, but with the promise of Spring. Walking with good friends along Hadrian’s Wall. Making our way down through the trees from the ridge about Crag Lough my mobile rings.

I don’t recognise the number. I answer and my sister tearfully says “You’d better sit down” and I know the news isn’t good. My Mum’s body was found by the district nurse this morning slumped in the hallway of her home.

It’s a shock, but not a complete suprise, in her 79th year her health had been bad for some time. I comfort my sister as best I can from 200 miles away. I hang up and tell my friends, who are as shocked as I am.

The walk back is strangely calm. The sun continues to shine, the sky is still a delicious blue. People pass enjoying the day as we walk back to our cars. My senses are very clear and I feel quite peaceful. I wonder if perhaps I should weep or wail, neither seems to fit my feeling so I just keep walking appreciating the space my friends give me to feel the way I feel (my friends are very good friends). At the car park we hug our goodbyes.

I drive home to Gateshead to get ready for the five hour drive to my Mum’s home. Along the country roads I marvel at how beautiful it is, how extraordinary it is to be alive and to have this experience of a beautiful day.

When I get home I do what needs to be done to put everyday life on hold for a while, pack my bags and start the long drive home. The first part of this journey passes through some of countryside my mum loved. It’s at it’s best and I drink it in for her, she would have loved to be here on a day like today.

After a little while I pass the place where I decided 10 years ago, on the drive home the day my father died, that I would do my best to be open to what ever happened and what ever I felt and do my best to honour him by how I handled it. I already knew that I would do the same for my mother. I want to be fully present through all this and beyond. The long drive home is a mixture of sadness and gratitude.

Being alive is an amazing improbable gift. It was her great gift to me and I want to make the best of it.

Thank you Mum for the gift of my life and for all your kindnesses.

Rest In Peace

Joan Hunt (neé Thompson)

1928-2008

(Experienced on Saturday written on Tuesday)