Friday 20 May 2011

The third one

Posted by Tania Kindersley.

This was the one I was really not going to write about. Partly for all the reasons I was not going to write about the last one: not another bloody funeral; not another outing for the black coat; is there not another subject on this green earth that I could write about? Turns out: there is not. I hear the voice of Leonard Cohen in my head. It goes: sing another song boys, this one has grown old and bitter.

It was the third time in three weeks that I stood in a church and sang Oh Lord and Father of Mankind. The third time I thought: don't cry, don't make a fuss. It was the third time I thought: what is this bloody Plan that people speak of? It was the third time I looked out over a crowd of people standing very still and straight, in black suits. This time, the faces were stretched not just with loss and remembering, but with absolute disbelief.

I was not going to write about it because there really aren't any words left. I've run out. Words are my life, my work, my passion, but tonight I do not have any for you.

'Incomprehensible,' said one old friend, staring sadly out over the beautiful green fields of England.

But it must be marked. It feels important that it is recorded. She was a woman who had more life and kindness and funniness and good-heartedness in her little finger than most people have in their entire bodies. She gave so much joy. Her name was Victoria Potts. She was forty-two.

Here are the flowers we gathered last night from my cousin's garden, arranged, and laid outside the church:

20 May 2

20 May 3

20 May 4

20 May 5

20

14 comments:

  1. I'm more sorry than I can say that all this has happened at once to you. You're perfectly justified to cry and make a huge fuss.

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  2. Such beauty in the flowers; such defeated sadness in the words; such unfairness from the universe. Much love, much love, much love.

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  3. Your remain in my thoughts. This amount of loss is incomprehensible. Please look after yourself and know we care. I hope that helps.

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  4. Much love to you. As Siobhan says incomprehensible.

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  5. Oh Tania, that's tragic. You've made me cry again. Thinking of you and sending love xx

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  6. Oh Tania. I'm so sorry you're having to deal with so much loss at the same time. Have a safe journey home and take care of yourself. Thinking of you.

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  7. Dear Tania, this is just not right. Again, please accept my heartfelt condolences.

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  8. Your news leaves me speechless. Sincerest condolences, and...and...what? I have no idea. What an incredible sequence of events. I refuse to believe that any further dire events could happen. We love you, if that helps at all.

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  9. Oh no Tania you poor poor love, even "this too shall pass" seems so inadequate this time. Give yourself small kindnesses and know there are many people sending you lots of warm kind thoughts and love. As I have said before my father died when I was 17, my mother when I was just 20 and as an only child I found out six months after my mether's funeral that my grandfather has really wanted to see me just before he died at that time too, but my remaining relatives did not want to upset me anymore so out of their kindness I missed seeing him too! People don't know what to do with such grief but I promise it will ease.

    Amanda xxx

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  10. I am so very sorry.
    There aren't sufficient words.

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  11. Tania, I am just so very, very sorry. Sending you much love xxx

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  12. As I finish off a bottle of cheap wine, I'd like to tell you, with as much drunken gravitas as I can muster, Hello, and This too shall pass. Holy cow. Please don't think I'm being insincere; I just wanted to see how you're doing.

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