Dividing Paths

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For those who look forward to a read I must apologise for being silent recently. For those who just read these posts out of some sense of loyalty then thanks for hanging in there and I hope that you enjoyed your break. I am back “on-line” with a few things to write hopefully for your amusement or pleasure or information. All sorts of things are whirling around in my head from global warming, diesel emissions, plastic …

When I say these things are in my head I really mean the topics are, I do get a hot head sometimes, and plastic and diesel particles have been found about everywhere so they may be in my head as well.

I also promise to post a few more cheerful and practical things but first of all I wanted to put to bed a musing that has been on my mind. It does not fit into the normal facebook type blog, you know the type where everything is wonderful and isn’t life great. It is a musing on loss which is itself a part of life that these days we try to ignore. The problem with that approach is that when loss strikes we can be unprepared and do not know how to carry on.  Accepting loss as part of the journey would enable us to be better prepared to carry on in a more positive manner, knowing that we should not feel regret or guilt at enjoying life in our changed situation.

Paths

The two of us are walking side by side, along a country path with green pastures on every side.
The path has grass growing down the middle, she walks to the left of it, me to the right.
As we walk quietly on, the grass in the centre gets taller, until it begins to brush our hands, it is then that I realise that that we are gently touching hands, lightly holding them, and have been for longer than I remember.
We walk on and the grass is mingled with wild flowers but also gorse, nettles and thistles that occasionally prick and sting, yet we hold on. Gradually her path begins to veer away from mine, the green partition grows, the thistles increase and I tighten my grip.
She seems to be totally accepting that she is now on a different path, focused on where she is going.
As the paths continue to diverge our arms reach out further to keep our hands touching, until it is just our finger tips touching. The hedge, for that it is now what it is, is so high that occasionally I loose sight of her face for a moment.
We have to keep walking and I know that my path does not yet lead to her destination.
Then her path takes a slight dip and our fingers loose contact, I can’t see her any more.
My whole body is filled with a silent scream, a scream containing all the things I never said or did, all those missed opportunities. The scream is echoed by an empty silence as I stare at the green divide, there is no sign of her. I walk on with no awareness of where I tread.
Now and then, far ahead, I get glimpses of what might be a divergence from my path. I wonder if it leads to her destination, I wonder how peaceful I would be, no, will be, at turning aside from this path. But for now I walk on, slowly beginning to notice anew the green of the grass, the smell of the hedgerow flowers, the buzzing of the bees and the gentle breeze in my hair.

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