by Heidi Lewis
“Meeting Jack at this time in her life was a blessing for her in the end, but it is so unfair that they did not have the gift of time – to enjoy their life together and to share in this wonderful bonding of their two families. It seems like their lives mirrored each other’s from a long way back, and now they are one in death.”
Holding the hands of her two little children, who would probably only have vague memories of their aunt and her special day in which they had played a part, they walked to the graves and sprinkled white rose petals all around.
It seemed like that was a step too far for Kathleen, and she collapsed at the graveside, overcome with grief. Her husband rushed to care for their children, as her mother knelt beside her. Jack’s mother joined them as they held each other and let their tears flow woefully down onto black earth.
The cemetery was at the far end of the gardens surrounding the hospice and as they walked back to their cars, the beauty of the lake, with the swans swimming gracefully around in the sunset, was lost on them all. They did not look up at the avenue of trees or even notice the borders full of red and white roses.
It would take some time for them to be able to look at the hospice, walk in the grounds, and be grateful for the peace and love Jack and Maria had found there. For now, they had to take time for themselves: to rant against God, for the sickening sadness to change from gall to an ever-present ache deep inside their hearts. They would have to learn to move forward with their grief and hopefully live lives that would bring honour to Jack and Maria.
The End