For Heather..

My friend Heather has died.
So young.
So gifted.
She has gone.
I am still here.

How strange the circle of life.
Our lives so different.
We taught together at Crawshaw.
A gifted teacher, Heather went on to become a psychologist.
Heather grew up with no religion.
I was born into a Catholic family.

Heather died in the loving care of Mercy Hospice
which once was a novitiate where as a young girl I spent happy years
of learning.
Heather enjoyed the irony of that.

While studying to be a psychologist,
Heather rang me once upset because she had to write about her spirituality.
"I have none" she said.

She was one of the most spiritual people I knew.
Her deep love of the earth, the sea, the sky;
writing poetry, dancing.
Heather built her own house
and flew a plane.

Heather chose not to have a funeral service.
That was Heather.
I chose to walk down the river path to the beautiful gardens
and spend time there.
Heather would have liked that.
She loved both the river and the gardens.

How special a time it was my friend.
I sat listening to the water and the birds,
and walked through to beautiful gardens.
I sat and wrote thoughts about Heather..

 

 

 

 

 

At the end of the day
I wandered back along the river.
I decided it was the loveliest funeral I'd ever been too.

Thank you Heather.
You always dared to be different.
I will remember you.
I will remember you.