I haven’t done a Walk Thoughts post for a while, but at the moment I’m not walking as much as I did because of Maggie’s injury.
So I’m cheating a bit and having a ‘Sitting Down’ thought instead, though actually it’s something I woke up with this morning.
We’re all familiar with the phrase ‘Famous Last Words’ or ‘She had to have the last word’, but I found myself thinking about the last words or last thing I can remember about a departed loved one.
Hubby and I never sleep on an argument. Not only is it uncomfortable, but the thought of waking up (or not) the next day to realise the last things said to each other were in anger is really upsetting.
I think recent events have got me thinking and although I would dearly love to bury the hatchet (or they would in my back), sometimes things are not to be and we just have to make the most of it to ensure they don’t get any worse. My halo is choking me here.
I miss my Dad terribly, and we have our candle burning tonight. The last thing I shared with him was my helicopter ride.
We saw a friend today who will be playing The Last Post at the Remembrance Service next week. Whenever we see him, I always put my ‘shrapnel’ (small coins) in his collection tin.
I came across a February post on the 7th Anniversary of the death of my brother-in-law, which was the catalyst for me going to NZ to see Bro.
The last thing my first MIL said to me was that I had been the only one not to visit her on Saturday. She died on the Monday.
The last thing I remember about my paternal grandfather was his widow’s son ripping out his glorious rose bushes, but that is counteracted by a much happier memory of Gramps cutting a hole in his neighbour’s lawn and placing a jam jar in it so that his three year old son could play golf years before.
I have an equally happy memory of Hubby’s father in the respite hospital on that last Christmas Eve. We had taken him in a small Christmas gift and miniature bottle of spirit. He called me across and carefully opened his cardigan pocket to show me his prize:
‘Don’t tell the nurse, she’ll confiscate it!”
It was a small bottle of sherry, and he kept it hidden, his face aglow with mischief. In a certain light, I see him in Hubby’s face as he smiles across at me.