Hearts and flowers

In the build up to Friday's Royal Wedding, I've enjoyed watching one or two of the many TV programmes looking back on royal weddings of the past. (Well, I was enjoying them until I realised that it's 30 years since Charles and Diana got married. Yes, 30 years! There's nothing like a cultural reference to shock you into realising you're not as young as you were). But, aside from the frocks and flowers, pomp and ceremony, the thing that most impressed me was the tradition of the bride to lay her bouquet on the grave of the Unknown Soldier in Westminster Abbey. This was started in 1923 by Queen Elizabeth, The Queen Mother, whose eldest brother Fergus, was killed in the First World War during the Battle of Loos in 1915. A completely spontaneous, heart-felt gesture at the time, by a woman who had watched the young men of her generation head to war and never return, not even to be buried. Elizabeth left her flowers on the way to the alter, whereas subsequent royal brides have placed them on the way back. Either way, it's a sensitive act and, sadly, while men continue to die fighting for their country, is still as relevant today as it was then.

Roll away the stone...

I've been sat in front of my computer screen for an hour trying to compose an eloquent blog post about 'resurrection' but every attempt to get my point across has so far sounded a bit, sort of, preachy. This is frustrating, and quite the opposite of what I'm trying to say, which, in a nutshell, is...
It's Easter Sunday. Some people are in church celebrating their belief that Jesus has risen from the dead. Some people are at home eating chocolate. Some will do both. I'm not judging. But you don't have to be religious to believe in resurrection. We all experience 'rising again' or being brought 'back to life' after periods of loss, heartache, and the end of our world as we knew it. So, rather than Easter being divided into those who believe and those who don't, how about everyone acknowledging that there is hope and life in spite of death. Because it's happening all around us, every day. Not just once a year...
Not quite as poetic as I'd like to have put it. But I hope you get the gist. Happy Easter!

Way to go, Walter

When it comes to our longevity, I believe it's as much to do with luck and genes as it is about the things we're able to control, such as exercise, eating, etc. Having said that, there are things we can do to make whatever years we have as fulfilling as possible, both for ourselves and those we share this crazy little planet with. And so, with that in mind, I salute Walter Breuning – the world's oldest man who has just died in the US at the age of 114.

http://www.telegraph.co.uk/news/worldnews/northamerica/usa/8452976/Worlds-oldest-man-dies-aged-114.html

When asked the secret to a long life, Walter suggested:
1. Being kind to others
2. Eating two meals a day
3. Keeping your mind and body busy
4. Embracing change
5. Not being afraid of death
I hope people take these suggestions to heart when they read/hear about Walter across the media today. In particular the idea of being kind and not afraid of death. Walter said, "We're all going to die. Some people are afraid of dying. Never be afraid to die. Because you are born to die".
Well said, Walter. Life only really starts once you accept that it ends. Move over Bruce Springsteen – 'Born To Run' is out. There's a new anthem in town...

All the fun of the fair

There is a saying "One day your life will flash before your eyes... make sure it's worth watching". My life flashed before my eyes this weekend when I went to our local spring fair. The first 'flash' happened when my friend (who has no sense of motion sickness) persuaded me (who can't even sit in the back of a car without going green) to go on a ride with her. It was a ride designed to let your stomach know you were alive, your heart believe you might not be much longer, and your head wish you were anything but. It was ghastly.
However, after making it back to terra-firma and taking a (long) moment to compose myself, we all walked around the fairground, taking in the sights, sounds and smells – candyfloss, bright lights, goldfish, music, fluffy toys, waltzers, tin cans, dodgems... And mingling through the multi-coloured mayhem were couples, families, and groups of teenagers, all out for a good time. It took me right back to the days when the fair arriving in my home town was one of the highlights of my childhood/teenage years. The rides may require stronger hydraulics (and stomachs) now, and the music isn't quite so easy on my ears, but the sense of excitement and wide-eyed wonder that I used to have came back to me in a flash. And it was worth the watch...

SOLD!

Good news friends and followers, for we have just accepted an offer on our house. Now we've just got to find a new Maison CB! I shan't bother you all with blow-by-blow accounts of surveys, solicitors and such-like – this isn't Facebook, after all. Just thought I'd share my news as I did tell you when we went 'on-sale' in February. http://thecomfortblanket.blogspot.com/2011/02/handle-with-care.html
Exciting times...

What do you live for?

Mr CB has just e-mailed me this clip. It's an advert from a company doing its best to pull at our heart strings and show it is in touch with humanity. I tried not to succumb. However, despite the dodgy guitar and Rocky-like weight training bit, the tissues were out...  

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vksdBSVAM6g&feature=player_embedded

Always something there to remind me...

Two things happened this week, which neatly fit under the banner of 'things people leave us when they die'. Although, I will point out, this isn't a post about wills and probate.
During the closing words of every ceremony, I try to provide comfort to families with phrases along the lines of "Fred did not disappear with the end of his life and your relationship with him is by no means finished. He will live on in your hearts and lives, becoming as much a part of your future as he was of your past", that sort of thing. But along with the loving memories are the more tangible reminders of the life we shared with someone. Here are two examples...
Firstly, I led a service for a wonderful lady who was an extremely talented potter. Her work, which was infused with her love of nature and wildlife, was exquisite. Her husband and son took great pride in showing me her creations and, over the course of several hours, they would take it in turns to run out of the room, returning with a teapot or statue, which they handed to me with big smiles and bursting hearts. After the ceremony itself, several friends and family members told me they had pieces of pottery this lady had made and given to them as gifts, which they used every day. Now that decorative bowl, coffee pot or vase would appear even more beautiful to them than it had before.
Secondly, I was chatting to a lady yesterday about her mum and I asked if I could see a picture of her. When she bought the picture in, it was as if her mum was sat right there opposite me, so real was the likeness between them. This has happened many times before, but for some reason yesterday it resonated with me more than usual. I thought about how I have my dad's eyes and hair, my mum's hands and feet, and my nan's nose. When I smile I look like one sister, and when I frown I look like the other. My tastes and attitudes have been influenced by all my family. And my loud laugh, well, that's mine I'm afraid...
But my point is that we can still see and feel people after they've gone, through the things they have created – whether that's a fruit bowl or a baby. It's a comfort to see these things reflected back at you. Well, all except the grey hair anyway...