sunset by jessie cave

body of water during golden hour
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Grief is sharp and hot, the body turns away

Instinctively, like bodies jumping from

The burning building. We as why?

Why the hell would you jump from way up there?

But we can’t know intensity like that until

We’re in the fire ourselves. And then

We wish we’d asked, looked inside ourselves

And asked the questions of those tortured souls,

Tell me why you leapt that day.

I just finished listening to the audiobook ‘Sunset’ by Jessie Cave and it was bloody beautiful.

I’ve followed Jessie Cave on Instagram for quite a while because she draws the funniest little doodles and she has the most amazing hair. So, I was pretty excited to read her book when I saw that she had written some fiction.

I found out just before I started listening that Jessie lost her brother in an accident quite recently and the book is a reflection on the grief that she felt.

It was also read by her sister which added a certain amount of poignancy to the audio version of the book. There is also a lovely discussion between the two sisters as a bonus section and it was really touching to get an insight into how they both felt about the novel.

It’s actually made me reflect on grief myself. They were saying how there is no real end to grief. You can’t sew it up like a happy ending in a romance novel. The pain may fade, but the loss will always be there.

I watched a documentary on the Twin Towers last night and I was reminded of the people jumping from the buildings. Nobody could believe what they were seeing and we were wondering why on earth they were choosing to jump.

Now we know that the heat was so extreme, they were almost pushed out of the windows. I think grief is a little bit like that, we can’t understand why people behave the way they do until we experience it ourselves. And unfortunately, as humans, we’re all going to have to feel the pain of a jump once or twice in our lifetime.

Much Love

Rachel xx

just loss

close up of gate of buckingham palace
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The bricks are always crumbling down,

The fabric fraying at the edge,

Destroying life we know, we love.

Life is not a constant thing,

But ever changing, building and

A knocking down of all that is

Familiar, pleasant to the eye, the ear.

We need our lives to straighten out,

To weather storms and stay intact

But that is not the way it works.

Eventually those things we love and need

Will crumble into dust.

There has been some very sad news today. The Duke of Edinburgh passed away this morning and I feel like his death will leave a hole in lots of people’s hearts, whether they have met him or not.

He has been by our Queen’s side for over seventy years and so most people will not remember a time when he has been a part of our fabric that has woven us all together. He kind of feels a bit like the grandfather that we never had, making inappropriate jokes but always being there when really needed.

He has always been one of my favourite royals and I really hope that The Crown is accurate in its portrayal of him, because I totally fell in love with the character that we were presented with. He knew exactly who he was and what was important to him and that is something that is important in really uncertain times.

My heart goes out to the Queen and the rest of the family. I can’t even begin to imagine what you must feel to have somebody by your side for 73 years and then have them gone. It must feel like a body part has been cut away, you must feel totally off balance.

I remember when Colin left me and I took off my wedding ring after two years of marriage. I felt like I was falling over and gravity was having a weird effect on me. What must it feel like after 73 years?

I hope that the family get through this time of sadness and that they all put differences aside and really lean on each other. It’s easy to forget that a stuffy institution like the royal family is, at the end of the day, a family and they deserve the same kindness and respect as any other family in such a horrible time.

Much Love

Rachel xx

talking about death is really hard

angelic statue and sunset scenery
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She touched the fabric of his shirt

As he slipped away to who knows where

In a shallow breath and a foggy stare.

She touched the fabric so that she knew he had been there,

He wasn’t just some trick of the mind

Their story really mattered, it really existed

Those memories of the kisses, births and parties too.

It was a happy book, written in their name

But still, it was hard to not know where he was,

It was frightening to stand with toes curled over

The edge of the gaping abyss

And not know where the bottom may be,

If there is a bottom anywhere at all?

I went to the solicitor’s office with my dad to get his will signed this week, and the effect that it had on me was quite profound. I really felt bent out of shape as we left, having thought properly about the fact that my dad could leave me at any time.

I think most humans try to avoid thinking about death because it’s enough to drive you crazy, but when you do finally sit down and consider it, it’s terrifying.

For those that are left behind, we don’t know if we’ll see that person again. And for the person facing death, there is that fear of nothingness.

I believe that we must go somewhere. I’m a Christian but even if I strip away any biblical teachings, I don’t believe that a soul and all the memories that we store up in a life time can just vanish in a moment.

It is the uncertainty that is the real kicker. And, of course, there is always the chance that I could go first. Life is so fragile and my trip to the solicitor reminded me of that, which can only be a good thing.

Enjoy it while you have it.

Much Love

Rachel xx