Mum and Dad stepping out in 1962
Tumbleweeds have been blowing around this blog of late. On January 16th my Dad died suddenly and the whirlwind of grief and shock are only now starting to level out. He was a wonderful man, an inspiration in so many ways, not least because he turned his back on a perfectly acceptable but dull 9-5 job to follow his heart and become self-employed. Risky in the 1980's with three children still at school but he made it a success. He understood the merits of patience, and of hard work, of listening, and teaching.
His easy manner and straightforward, practical nature, has actually made my mourning easier to deal with but I know it's early days. Friends have warned me that grief is an unpredictable and strange creature that can whip round and smack at surprising moments, and I have appreciated the wise words from those who have told me to give it time and not rush into quick decisions or sudden changes.
Having said that I have felt the need to shed a skin, and certain things have fallen by the wayside. The constant white noise of Facebook has been one of the casualties as it suddenly seemed so superficial when I craved a deeper connection. Certain friends have stepped forward and moved me with their kind support and actions, which has made me realise how inadequate a support I may have been in the past.
Now my priorities lie with my nearest and dearest. I'm currently caring for my Mum who has been unwell and am taking as much time out as I can without completely taking my eye off the ball. One of the benefits of being away from my studio is being in the countryside, enjoying the sky and woods and the slow creep of the seasons. I'm taking pleasure in the small things, the blossom bud from the small orchard Dad planted, and the amazing bulbs and flowers which are changing every week.
A huge thanks again to everyone who has been in touch the last couple of months, and here's hoping the tumbleweeds and rabbit holes will pass soon.
