Goodbyes

It feels like there have been a lot of goodbyes recently.

My last post focused on the most jarring goodbye.

A goodbye that shouldn’t have occurred for decades.

Some of us had the chance to gather with Steven in mind again at a memorial service in the L.I.T. Student’s Union.

The sun shone again. I soaked it up afterwards with another friend of mine.

I’ve just realised that I entirely skipped over the memorial there.

The first section, the religious part, didn’t really mean much to me.

It was what it was. A tradition that offers comfort to some but I felt removed from it.

Removed from Steven. It wasn’t until the priest stopped talking and the people who had spent time in the Student’s Union, working and hanging out with Steven, started sharing poetry and singing that it felt like we were focused on the little goofball.

That’s when the tears started again. Feeling sad together followed by talking and soaking up the sun afterwards seems a bit surreal but it feels good to hang onto our happy times with the friends who are still around. Maybe that’s the best way to help make sure that they stay sticking around. Be sad. Share the sadness. Recognise that we’re not alone in it. Remember. Share the memories and make sure that our friend lives on in our thoughts and in our continued friendships. That he’s remembered in our continued happy times, because we did have happy times with him.

There come my tears again.

Oh, the plans that we discussed that have lost their momentum because he’s not around. They’ll get done in some shape or form but they won’t be what they could’ve been with his energy. One of those little plans was to arrange for Steven to meet Wyatt. I thought that there was all the time in the world to arrange that. Megs was going through some of the photos of Wyatt and saw that Steve had liked some of them. So bittersweet.

I want to hold my friends tight to me. Some of them I don’t get to see enough and I need to remedy that because there isn’t all the time in the world.

I also need to get back into my blogging. The surge in stats after my last post blew me away.

I found it difficult to come back to my little corner of the blogosphere and chatter on about crafty endeavours when my last post was about such a sad farewell. I’m told that what I wrote was touching and made people cry (but in a good way, if that’s understandable). Once I’ve got money for ink I’m going to print out a copy of the post along with some photos of Steve for his sister.

So now I’m reclaiming my craft blog as a craft blog and giving myself permission to revel in the craft that makes me so happy.

Life’s far too short not to secure our happy places for ourselves.

It was my birthday the day after Steve’s funeral. I’m midway through my 30’s. Yikes!

My first Grandma card

So this is a thing. Getting a card from my grandson before he can sit unaided. 🙂

I look suitably surprised, don’t I

It’s also a thing that my offspring is in a position to treat me to dinner on my birthday. She chose The Hampton’s Bar & Grill. Our waiter found out that it was my birthday as he was taking a family picture of myself, Megs and Wyatt. He arranged for a lit candle to be put on my dessert and for a half a dozen of his colleagues to join him in singing “Happy Birthday” to me. I was charmed (and rather red-faced).