Loving Warmth

An overwhelming pitch was reached this week. It is always disconcerting when it happens, because the foundation is organised and measured, but life is never really under our control. To keep all the plates spinning steadily takes a bit of time and space around them, as well as us, and when overwhelm comes to visit, that time and space disappear in an instant.

Winter made an appearance this week in the Northern Hemisphere, and the last leaves are falling from the trees. As we see on the world stage, things are being stripped bare, presenting some thorny choices. This is being mirrored in our own day-to-day lives.

You don’t have to make a choice, no matter what pressure is brought to bear. Carrying on as you are is a choice in itself.

I have long held the belief that when presented with a choice, if it is ignored, the situation will re-present itself later on down the line, harder and tougher than before. The cycle will keep repeating, getting tighter each time, until a choice is made.

Sometimes you have to let the situation play out for longer to get the whole picture, but if you are looking at a bare trunk, it is inviting you to examine it and make a choice.

So, in the middle of overwhelm this week, faced with several bare trunks, choices were made. Tim and I talked, as we always do, and I asked his advice and took it, because I was too weary to think straight.

Loving warmth has carried us through this week.

Nearly four years ago, a special lass booked me for my first funeral ceremony, and we are still in touch as we work together. I was delighted for her when she got married and thrilled to bits when she called to say they are expecting their first baby in January. I found a vintage pattern for a baby layette and some gorgeous yarn, and it’s here, waiting in my basket to be made. I can already feel the love and peace that will flow as I create stitch by stitch. Recently, we had a tricky service to organise, and as messages flowed between us both, I shared my loving anticipation through knitting, and she shared her need for comfort.

A tragic passing led a lovely funeral director and me to visit a shattered widow. We always try to do this together when the circumstances lead us to minimise the unexpected load someone has to carry at the worst time possible. What has since flowed from this remarkable lady in her grief is loving grace, the like of which is rarely seen. Every message and communication from her has a magic touch, and we feel privileged to flow alongside her.

There have been silent communications this week, as gloved hands have held each other at sharp moments and hugs were given. No words were needed.

I arrived home after a service and saw a bunch of flowers and some chocolates on the kitchen table. Tim said there had been a visitor while I was out, and upon opening the card, I read the kind words from one of the lovely families I had helped to look after. I called them, and the phone was put on speaker, so we could all talk. There was sharing, banter, laughter and lots of love, and I put the phone down later with promises to stay in touch. Another privilege full of warmth.

I know how lucky I am to have a husband who stays calm, loving and truly listens. I could not do what I do without him. Thank you, Tim. 💕