Reading the story again 3

I think one of the most chilling things in the news this year has been something called "excess deaths".  What it means is the increase in the death rate this year.  It's not just covid but because people have delayed seeking medical help because they "didn't want to bother the doctor".  It's the result of delayed treatments because the hospital was dealing with too many corona cases.  And, of course, it does include covid cases.  My reading of the Christmas story reminded me of some deaths around the time of that first Christmas.  

When Herod saw that he had been tricked by the wise men, he was infuriated, and he sent and killed all the children in and around Bethlehem who were two years old or under, according to the time that he had learned from the wise men.  

Matthew goes on to talk of Rachel weeping for her children, the victims of an unjust king, children who were in the wrong place at the wrong time.

For some people Christmas is never a happy time of the year because it is the anniversary of the death of someone they love.  For many people this will be the first Christmas without the special someone who has lit up every Christmas until now.  The deaths they remember are all "excess" and the jollity often feels so hollow.  

I can't find the right words to say to you if you are in that group for the simple reason there are no right words.  I say that every year and every year I mean it.  We are all of us so very human and we wish we could say something to make it better but we can't.  Never feel though, that no-one cares. It is more likely that they care so much that they won't patronise you with platitudes.  

I'm joining in "Advent at Home" hosted by Ang at Tracing Rainbows

Adjusting 5

Way back in March when I decided to withdraw into my home for my own safety, I started to keep a diary "Personal thoughts during a pandemic" and I have made entries in that journal ever since.  I'm very "lucky" - I don't have children or grandchildren whom I am desperate to hug (which is what most of my friends are missing most, I think) and my basic income is secure so my worries are minimal.

To be honest I have sailed through lock down and for the most part I have enjoyed it!  I have taken the time to smell the roses and the lavender, to listen intently to the blackbird,  and to savour life.  I've plenty of hobbies and plenty of stash to enjoy those hobbies.  Five years lock down wouldn't exhaust the stash.  Now Jack is back looking after me I have a garden to relax in even though I am missing Annie-The-Home-Enhancer and my house isn't quite as relaxing as it was!

But it isn't plain sailing.  During lock-down I have suffered four bereavements - the two I've blogged about and two other very close friends.  None was covid related but all have been made more difficult because of the current circumstances.   I can't give the families the hugs which I would normally react with.

I've been quite involved in ministry both by being a telephone pastor and in writing pieces for reflection.  I've valued the pastoral ministry of others.  I've joined in Zoom and YouTube worship but I have missed standing next to other Christians to praise God and I have missed leading worship. 

Friends have been kind in shopping for me and Sainsbury's have delivered regularly but I'd like to choose my own fruit and veg and discuss my purchases with my butcher.

One of my slightly unusual "activities"  during lock down has been regular corona virus testing.  You may notice in news bulletins that calculations are made on how the virus is spreading (or not) and that about 11,000 people are being tested regularly to help in the calculations.  Well, I'm one of 'em!  I was invited by The Office for National Statistics.   I have the swab test (which indicates whether I have the virus at the time of testing) very frequently and also have a blood test (which shows if I have antibodies as a result of having had it) occasionally and apart from that I just do whatever I would do anyway under the present regulations.  I would be told if I have the active virus but not if I my antibody test shows that I have had it.  This means that my behaviour is unaffected by the results.  I'm really pleased to help in this way and they also give me a little something for the inconvenience!

Sad News

I feel unbelievably sad today.  My dear friend Jack's wife died of cancer yesterday.  I have asked Jack's permission to write this post.  I can't visit him so this is my virtual hug for him and his family.

Mr and Mrs Jack were married for over fifty one years.  They were both from the same small Lincolnshire village so I think she was a hero as she knew perfectly well what she was taking on.  Our Jack had a reputation for being a "bit of a one" as we say in this part of the world. 

She was one of  several sisters and her sisters remained very important in her life even though they all moved from the area.  Mr and Mrs Jack settled down as Jack was a farm worker and they always lived with fifteen miles of their home village.  She was really pleased when her granddaughter told her just a few weeks ago that she and her husband and child were going back to live in that village.

Mr and Mrs Jack had two children. a boy and a girl.  Mrs Jack was an excellent family manager and ran a great home for the family to come back to.  When the children got bigger she went out to work but she took pride in running a beautiful home.  She also kept Jack in order - no mean feat!  Some time ago Jack (when he had been ill) wrote , "My wife has been brilliant .  I just couldn't have managed without her.   She's had to do everything: cooking, cleaning, washing, ironing, putting the rubbish out, and taking our little dog for walks.  . . .   I say to all husbands, "Treasure, treat and look after your missis: they expect so little in return."  What a tribute!

I've always been made very welcome in their home and on a visit last year I had the privilege of blessing their first great grandchild.  Mr and Mrs Jack had three grandchildren who have been the joy of these last few years.  Such family events have been special as they have known for quite a while that she would not recover from this illness.

The months since her diagnosis have inevitably been difficult but as always Mrs Jack has organised her family.  They've made Christmas extra special, they've sorted birthdays and they have visited.  Visiting in a time of corona virus has been difficult and they have often had to use mobile phones and talk whilst looking at each other through windows.  I cannot begin to imagine how hard it has been.

And neither can I imagine how hard it is for Jack, a sweet and loving man, to go through this dreadful time all on his own.  Jack, I promise that as soon as I can I will come and given you a real hug.  S*d this virus!  Until then I will be having a word with The Boss.  Take care.  Love from The Vicar

Note:- Jack will be able to read your comments but not reply.

The Right Words

You will have gathered that I love the lead-up to Christmas.  I enjoy making things for my friends, meeting up with them, even writing cards (but the last seems to take a very long time).

December is not a time of unmixed joy.  On 6th December 1995 my Father died.  On 5th December 2006 my Mother died.  And on 30th December 2010 my only sister died.  I have known what it is to wait and watch and weep with the dying when festivities are going on around.  And I have known what it is to long to be left alone when the world seems to be full of crowds.

Each December I meet professionally with families who are bereaved.  Christmas will never be quite the same again for them.  In a year or two Christmas will again be joyful in a different way but that first year it's just a time to be endured as best as possible.  Cards come through the door wishing "Merry Christmas" and the world is filled with festivity but all you want to do is crawl under a duvet.

Today I am meeting up with a friend who knew all my family - we've known each other nearly fifty years.  I know she will remember and mention my parents gently and sensitively.  We will laugh at memories of them just as we will laugh at the doings of my friend's grandchildren.  We are each enriched by our families, both past and present.

This is not intended to be a maudlin post but rather to say that few people can think of "the right words" to say to someone who is sad at this time.  The reason for that is simple: there are no "right words".  That doesn't mean that the other person is unfeeling or uncaring, just that they too are human.

I've thought long and hard as to whether to hit the publish button for this post because I know that these aren't the right words either.  However, I want to reach out to anyone who is sad - those who wait or weep or watch - and these words are all I have.

God bless.