The phone goes in the middle of the crowded room. Surrounded by laughter and chatter, I move to a quiet place. The final breath has been drawn, and the curtain has come down. Leaving quietly, I drive up the hill to where he lies. Aware of my brittleness, I move through the house to sit and pray and be a while. The words of the Nunc Dimmitis are stilled. He has departed in peace. An embrace from his daughter opens the floodgates. Aninut – the rendering of grief.
I walk the path up to the stone circle, to stare into a sobbing sky. The sound of curlew and lapwing rise on the breeze, a mournful elegy. A colleague joins me at the tearooms. We tiptoe our way round the topic and onto another. But I am aware he mourns with me. Shiva.
The days turn into night and night into day. I retreat into my shell, like a hermit crab hiding from the hurts of the world. A friend feeds me tea in copious quantities. Puts food in front of me and I eat. Seudat havra’ah – the meal of comforting. The emails flood in on the tide, full of support and love and grief outpoured. Shiva.
My normal suspended, I go for a walk. The rain and snow hurl themselves around me, torn into shreds by the wind. I am rescued and taken away to be fed again. There is a task for me, mindless activity to soothe the soul. The day is negotiated. Shiva
Day follows day. The funeral sees the descent of friends from near and far. A house full of people. Bagpipes soar on earth and in heaven. I am upheld on a sea of love, cushioning me from the worst of the waves. The rituals help. Old familiar words in a new context. Shiva
One friend stays on for a while longer, a quiet presence. With me while I weep. My soul quietens and joy is found. Covid, picked up at the funeral, is a boon and a chore. I cannot dive back into life at high speed but must instead pause a little longer. Grieving is hard work, and my body tells me so. Shiva to sheloshim.
Almost 30 days now. The details still catch my breath. Friend departed, I have the house to myself, and try not to brood. On Saturday I will run a hot bubble bath, and relax. A glass of wine and some classical music. Wash my hair. Trim my nails, and put some moisturiser on. My fingernails will be painted with nail polish. The day of resurrection is near. And in this I will rejoice.
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