A week later

It's only a week since we had my Octogenarians funeral service. There were many tears but there was also so much laughter in a wonderful fitting tr ibute to a man who was not only large in stature but larger than life. Lucy the dogs dad almost didn't manage to compose himself to give the tribute , the first time that's happened in quarter of a century in the ministry but my Oldster was a very special man. It's been quite a week. I've swapped my big wheelchair transporting car for a tiny Peugeot 107, I've visited my oldest child in London  and thought a lot about the last few weeks, and how bereft I now feel. Nothing in my conduct of about 80 funerals and dealing with bereavement prepared me for just how bad I feel. Of how such a bereavement leaves you feeling isolated ( no one knows how you feel), physically exhausted, from the preceding weeks of physical care, inability to make even basic decisions and trying to get yourself together again and take up the reigns of life.  I start my probationary placement this Sunday and was a bit hacked off when my supervising minister said " this will be a learning process for you" maybe so but am I wrong in thinking he was being crass and insensitive, this was someone I loved.  Looking back over the last seven weeks in particular I know I could never have got through that time in my own strength I know at the times when I faltered God held me up and was there with us every minute of every day. I'm not a naturally still person,  buti have discovered a stillness within from the hours I sat waiting with my Oldster. So in the bewilderment of bereavement I've achieved much this week ( the London Underground! Eek) changed cars ( need to remember I now have a hand brake and no speed limiter ) and I've been so supported not just by family and friends but also the brilliant district nurse and doctor who were our mainstays. Not through the woods yet but still standing.