Herons for Jane

there were two herons there when i walked along beside the Water of Leith today, on my way to Jane's funeral. it was a lovely bright sunny day. and i thought how Jane would have liked it that there were herons to be seen that day.

i am just back from the funeral reception.

it was a shock to learn of my friend's death, and i was sad that we had fallen out of touch over the past year, but then i just dont expect my friends to die. Jane was diagnosed with cancer of the brain and lung 6 months ago. i didnt know.

life and death. i chose red roses, thistles and yellow alstromeria for her. before the funeral, walking along with my flowers, stopping for a coffee because i was too early, the nice man in the shop joking 'oh you shouldnt have!' (about the flowers of course), setting off again and bumping into a pal who said exactly the same thing.. but who also confirmed the directions to the crematorium. and then the walk by the water of leith; sun, herons, flowers, and thoughts of Jane and me on Iona, Jane and me at her parents' house in Fife after her mum died.. lots of shared times at college before that. our hopes and struggles.

then after the funeral. the reception. keeping it together still somehow in a shared cheerieness all remembering Jane. and then you all leave.

and she is just gone. she is just not. it is the hardest thing about death, i think; is that it is so difficult for the mind to grasp Absence - complete and utter Absence. it is as if its incomprehensible, you still expect the person to turn up again..

and each loss seems to bring up previous ones.

Warriston crematorium is one of the oldest ones in the uk, i believe. anyway, apart from that, it is also the one where my baby son was cremated. i had not been back there since then (the '70s). but i have had it in mind for many years to go and research whereabouts his ashes might actually be - if anywhere. just find out. i keep putting it off.

the thing is, the chapel Jane's funeral was in was the tiny wee one that my son's was in. that i was really not expecting. i just kept staring at the stained glass doves on the wall above 'the hole'. i kept remembering how his tiny coffin was sat there, how numb i was, i couldnt sing. i tried to sing for Jane instead.

we die. we disappear. our rituals help us say goodbye. but the loss never goes away.