Long distance goodbyes

This isn't the happiest of postings, but I said that I would include some of the lows of our travels as well as the many highs, and this certainly counts as one.

In the just over six months that we have now been away, I have now had two people pass away.  The first was one of my mother's cousins.  He wasn't a close relative, and in fact I have only known him at all for the past seven years or so, but I liked him. Had I been in the UK, I would have gone to the funeral, and it seemed strange and a little sad that I couldn't.  Others in my immediate family did go though, so we were represented, if I can use that term, and so it didn't seem so bad.

Now I have found out that one of my friends has also sadly passed away from cancer.  She was someone with whom I spent a lot of time at one stage, and while changed circumstances meant that we saw less of each other recently, we were still good friends and I am incredibly sad to know that I will not see her again.  Her husband said when he contacted me that he knows I would not be able to make the funeral, and he is right of course.  But I find that aspect of being away very hard.  It feels quite wrong to me that I will not be attending the funeral of someone who was important in my life.

In part I suppose that is about believing that a good attendance at a funeral helps to show that people - and specifically you - cared for that person, and the knowledge that this can give some comfort to those who were closest to them and will feel their loss most acutely both immediately and in the years come.  And to that degree the idea of someone representing you, or the sending of flowers or donations can help.

But in fact there is a far more selfish reason than that.  When we lose someone we cared for we feel a bit helpless, and if it is someone that you do not see very regularly, it can be hard to believe that they are no longer around.  The funeral doesn't just allow you to pay your respects to the person and their spouse or family.  It also gives you a clear point at which you mourn the loss of the person and allows you to say goodbye.  Whilst you may still at times find yourself thinking about the person as if they are still alive, that single point in time is when you start to accept that you won't see them again.  To use that terrible american phrase, it gives you a kind of 'closure'.  I dislike the phrase because it suggests that you no longer give the person any thought, but the basic concept that it brings home to you the fact that they are in fact gone is, I think, very important.

So if I feel like this, have I considered going back to the UK for the funeral?  Well yes and no.  In the first place, Nic and I agreed when we came here that realistically we could not go back for funerals as a rule, and that probably we would have to limit it to our immediate family - always hoping of course that it would never happen.  So that should have ruled it out straight away, but it didn't stop my imitial thought being that I want to go.  But then I also considered what my friend's response would most likely have been.  She was about living life, not following conventions and the expectations of others, and I feel fairly certain that she would have thought it mad to go back.  Maybe that is just what I want to believe to feel better about not going, but I don't think so.

So I have decided that I won't be going back, but I know when the funeral is, and I will join in with them here in my own way to mark her passing and say my own goodbyes.

Lastly, while it is times like this that most make me wish I was back in the UK, it is also times like this that make me remember how important it is to take the opportunities to do the things that you want to do while you still can.  My friend took some time away from work a while ago to have a bit of a holiday and to write the book that she always wanted to.  It makes me glad that she achieved that and I like to think that it gave her and her husband some comfort that she achieved it too.  And you never know, I might see her name on the bookshelf yet if her husband decides to publish it one day.