Wednesday, 26 January 2011

"Revives Sun-Kissed Highlights"

Or so says my shampoo bottle!

My hair used to be more auburn when I was little.  I always called myself a red-head as an excuse for my temperamental and fiery behaviour.   These days some strands, particularly in the fringe, have grown lighter to the point that the colour appears bleached out altogether! 

The slogan on the bottle reminded me of the sunset from the day before.  The sky was a glorious pink filtered through the dark silhouettes of the bare trees.  We were driving towards it as I took my son to tennis and I was really paying far more attention to the wonder of it than the road!

“Mum why is the sky that colour?” asked son number two.  He even spotted a patch of the sky that looked green!

I explained that our sunsets are so spectacular because we live near an industrial area that spew out lots of chemicals and that causes it.  At least that’s what I was told once.  I won’t pretend to understand it so I probably didn’t explain it very well.

What I didn’t say to him was the old saying “red sky at night - shepherds delight”.  It was one of those sayings I learnt early on that has always stuck with me.  A scarlet skyline meant the next day was going to be fine.  A promise of a good day ahead.

All of a sudden there seems to be a few signs around of new hope on its way.

Last week when I put the bin out I spotted the first snowdrop in the garden. 

Today I saw several more sticking their heads above ground and it made me smile.

Then the other day when we arrived home the lamp post in the garden, which is set on a timer switch, was already on although it was still light!

The days are getting noticeably longer.  It’s the start of something NEW.

Andrew loved watching the sunset.  He told me more than once that it takes a full minute for the sun to go from sitting on the horizon to falling out of sight behind it.  He’d timed it many times while working off–shore, standing with arms resting on the hand rails.  I can imagine him clearly standing there.  Contented face lit by the sun's fading glow.

Not long before he died he’d won a new camera and one of the few photos he had taken on it was of the sun setting over the sea.

I can vividly remember some of the sunsets we watched together.  Magical highlights, romantic moments that I will always treasure.  Although it is the end of the day you just know the sun will rise again tomorrow.  And so the world carries on…

There were sunrises too, like the morning of the new Millennium.  We were complete then and had recently become a family of four.

Last week I found things hard.  I never “achieved” very much.   It took quite a while to write my last blog entry about people asking “how I was doing?”

On reflection there was quite a bit of anger there really and thinking about it now I probably got snappy as a defence mechanism.  Every time someone asked how I was I could feel the tears start to form.  Sometimes deep inside and sometimes very close to the surface.

I know crying can be good and that anger is part of the grief too.  It all comes out jumbled up like waves ebbing and crashing on the shore.

This week has been better so far.  I’m working through my “list” and things are getting done.  Although with each job ticked off I seem to find three more outstanding!

I need to remember all those things I’ve already written about taking my time and being patient.  Maybe I need to look back and see how far I've already come. 

But something is stirring with the coming of spring …..

….slowly and surely the sun-kissed highlights are being revived!

1 comment:

  1. I saw my first snowdrops yesterday too. Do you know this poem?

    SNOWDROP by Louise Gluck?

    Do you know what I was, how I lived? You know
    what despair is; then
    winter should have meaning for you.

    I did not expect to survive,
    earth suppressing me. I didn't expect
    to waken again, to feel
    in damp earth my body
    able to respond again, remembering
    after so long how to open again
    in the cold light
    of earliest spring--

    afraid, yes, but among you again
    crying yes risk joy

    in the raw wind of the new world.