Our Choices...

The Christmas Rose and Hellebores were frozen in our new raised bed at the back of the garden this morning. It was still out there, and I stood and watched the sun rise through the tree trunks, marvelling at nature’s resilience.

Recently, we visited Tim’s brother and shared a meal. Tim has fun choosing where we’re going to meet, and the three of us try to do this every few months. This time we re-visited a pub, which holds special memories for us all, high up in the Peak District. They had lit the open fires, and we were seated at an old wooden table by a fireplace. We sit eating and nattering for a few hours, and there are always discoveries and much laughter. Familiar phrases are ‘And Dad went spare’ and ‘You never did!’

We choose to stay away from the mainstream media, as it is way too provocative and chaos-inducing for our liking, and social media feels the same. Time stands still as phones capture moments. It breaks the flow of life, and some folks are caught in the trap of their lives only being relevant through the moments they share. They live or die on the hill of attention seeking and then wonder why they feel lost.

If the following sounds judgmental, then I have some work on myself to attend to, but the three of us were dismayed by the situation that unfolded at the table on the other side of the fireplace.

A beautifully dressed couple came in for lunch. The lady brought some accessories with her, like a country leather hat and a tartan Christmas stocking and proceeded to ask permission to take some photographs. For the next few hours, she posed by the fire, on a stool by the bar, at the table and at other points around the lovely stone-built pub. Her poor partner struggled to get the right photographs, and there was a lot of toing and froing as she checked everything he was taking. This carried on throughout their lunch. Her partner’s energy visibly dimmed, and he looked so sad just before they left.

We tried to ignore what was unfolding and kept ourselves in our happy ‘nattering’ bubble. Interestingly, at one point, the lady approached us as she hung the Christmas stocking by the fireplace nearest to us. She asked if she was disturbing us, and, as I was the one facing her, I looked at her for some time and then replied,

‘No, carry on. We’re having a lovely time.’

I kept my tone neutral, although I have to admit I could feel my sarcastic side rising. Tim and his brother were engrossed in their conversation and didn’t even look up.

The lady’s need for attention in any form was paramount.

The image of her partner’s sadness has stayed with me.

Lately, the spinning plates arising from work have been tricky to manage, and a lovely funeral director I have been working with on some services, and I have been talking. It is always a sign for me when I start to swear, and in a few private settings, I have been turning the air blue. It lets the pressure off a little, but the underlying burners that are heating things have to change for situations to settle down properly.

I always feel I am letting the side down when I swear, as I ought to be able to explain myself properly without letting rip with profanity. After all, I have the full English language at my disposal! I have been apologising to those who have kindly listened, and some have even found it amusing.

With the lovely and wise funeral director, I shared a few challenges and the hard decisions that I had been forced to make, and she shared her experience on the situations that have unfolded and the people involved. I felt seen, and I also discovered that I was not alone, as she provided validation for the choices I had made. A weight lifted, and I am grateful to her for trusting me.

We had messaged, talked on the phone and left voice messages, but we had also talked properly. Face to face. I have never been one to discuss things endlessly. If I feel the need to talk and air something, then it happens, and action follows. I hesitate as I feel I’m adding to others’ loads, and I feel uncomfortable doing that. Conversely, when we talk, we can hear ourselves, and it gives others the chance to share too. We need each other.

It all comes down to trust and reaching out in a kind and honest way. Which brings me back to the world of media and manipulation, which had led to an explosion of surface-skating and meaningless connections. It’s no wonder some people are feeling empty inside.

In the middle of the night, who do you turn to or call?

🩷