Near Death Perspective …

Isn’t it strange how people react to grief?

A couple who hated each other and were determined to cause each other as much pain as possible only a week ago,  have now let that go and called a truce in the interim,  wrapping their arms around each other,  consoling themselves in each others heart and hugs rather than trying to score points and playing pointless mind games.

It’s all about perspective,   it’s easily lost but something as sad as losing your child tends to give you clarity and the old wounds don’t really matter.

I’ll spare the details as that’s someone else s privacy.

But I was pleased to see my friends comfort each other and put their differences behind them,  even if it turns out only to be temporary.

Sometimes when death comes calling,  you need the human touch to feel alive.

I kind of figured there was a renewed closeness at the funeral mass,   each of them within the others personal space,  the stolen glances,  the joint public face, their warmth masked but obvious.

Later,  after everyone else was away,  running them back to the hospice, chatting, having dinner and getting drunk,  cos what else are you gonna do on a day like this?

I was pleased to see them wrapped around each other,   reminding themselves of the love they shared,  their shared loss and the love for their other kids they have to cherish.

But it’s not only direct involvement in death that lends a sense of perspective,  It’s being close to it that reminds us what’s important in life.

My daughter Claire is currently busy with her exams for her final year at high school.   She’s a manky wee so-and-so and at this moment her room is a bit of a disaster.    She uses her studies as an excuse,  even although I know full well that she’s on the web chatting to her friends.

Last week, I gave her a bit of a telling off,  because of the state of her room.

This week,  I couldn’t really care less as long as it gets sorted.

Don’t get me wrong,  the mess isn’t being tolerated,   words will still be spoken,  but I’d rather have my girl and her little bit of mess than not at all … perspective.

Yesterday when Claire arrived home from her mums,  my hugs were just a little bit longer.


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