100 days – Day 55: Second Anniversary of the Death of my Beloved Wife, Helen
100 days – Day 55: Second Anniversary of the Death of my Beloved Helen
Kinks – Days Lyrics
Those endless days, those sacred days you gave me.
I’m thinking of the days,
I won’t forget a single day, believe me.I bless the light,
I bless the light that lights on you believe me.
And though you’re gone,
You’re with me every single day, believe me.Days I’ll remember all my life,
Days when you can’t see wrong from right.
You took my life,
But then I knew that very soon you’d leave me,
But it’s all right,
Now I’m not frightened of this world, believe me.I wish today could be tomorrow,
The night is dark,
It just brings sorrow anyway.Thank you for the days,
Those endless days, those sacred days you gave me.
I’m thinking of the days,
I won’t forget a single day, believe me.Days I’ll remember all my life,
Days when you can’t see wrong from right.
You took my life,
But then I knew that very soon you’d leave me,
But it’s all right,
Now I’m not frightened of this world, believe me.
Days.
Thank you for the days,
Those endless days, those sacred days you gave me.
I’m thinking of the days,
I won’t forget a single day, believe me.
I bless the light,
I bless the light that shines on you believe me.
And though you’re gone,
You’re with me every single day, believe me.
Days.
A former work-colleague, Karl wrote this on FB: I worked with Helen in Waterstone’s Edinburgh back in the mid nineties. What a wonderful lady, very kind and warm plus the driest wit this side of the Sahara. I look back at my time with the first floor team with great fondness and I recall creasing up with laughter as Helen would oh so subtly put a rude customer in his or her place with a pithy one liner.
So….. this is a day to mourn, but it’s also a time to celebrate this lovely, warm, funny, intelligent lady whose sense of mischief brought a smile to many a face.
Some of Helen’s “pithy” observations:
When she was going through her first sessions of chemotherapy, following radical surgery, on our way out of the Infirmary, a lovely and sincere Church of Scotland ministerial colleague bumped into us and said “We’re all praying for you”. (which was a marvellous thing to do). My dear wife, who hadn’t met this guy and hadn’t a clue who he was, simply replied, “How nice”
asking a friend how her son had done in his “Higher” exams, the lady replied, “He failed them all”. But added “He has passed his driving test though!”
herself: “How clever. Much more important”
after attending the first service, after we were married, at the church where I was a probationer assistant, the usual”know-it-all” member – in this case a Mrs Swanston – came up to her with that smug look of those who are beholden of the truth – and said “Well, what do you think of our Church of Scotland services?”
Helen who was VERY English and had a staunch Church of England mother replied, “a bit dull”
On the death of the Beloved ( John O’Donohue )
Though we need to weep your loss,
You dwell in that safe place in our hearts,
Where no storm or night or pain can reach you.
Your love was like the dawn
Brightening over our lives
Awakening beneath the dark
A further adventure of colour.
The sound of your voice
Found for us
A new music
That brightened everything.
Whatever you enfolded in your gaze
Quickened in the joy of its being;
You placed smiles like flowers
On the altar of the heart.
Your mind always sparkled
With wonder at things.
Though your days here were brief,
Your spirit was live, awake, complete.
We look towards each other no longer
From the old distance of our names;
Now you dwell inside the rhythm of breath,
As close to us as we are to ourselves.
Though we cannot see you with outward eyes,
We know our soul’s gaze is upon your face,
Smiling back at us from within everything
To which we bring our best refinement.
Let us not look for you only in memory,
Where we would grow lonely without you.
You would want us to find you in presence,
Beside us when beauty brightens,
When kindness glows
And music echoes eternal tones.
When orchids brighten the earth,
Darkest winter has turned to spring;
May this dark grief flower with hope
In every heart that loves you.
May you continue to inspire us:
To enter each day with a generous heart.
To serve the call of courage and love
Until we see your beautiful face again
In that land where there is no more separation,
Where all tears will be wiped from our mind,
And where we will never lose you again.
100 days – Day 11
100 days – Day 11
Looking in a drawer today for something, I found this: Helen’s Report Card from her last year in Primary School.
She did rather well! Um, except for Maths; she always said that she was hopeless at it, but I didn’t think THAT bad!
Her father was a wizz – a human computer. When my mother-in-law was out with him buying fabric or, say, vegetables, she would simply turn to him and ask “this is £X per square yard, and I need 5 and three quarters of it, how much would it be?” or “these bananas are £Y for a dozen, but I only want 7, how much is that?” The answer would be almost instantaneous.
I too can’t count very well, but one thing is sure I could count on my beloved late wife, Helen Strachan (nee Walker) to be my only true soul mate for 40 years. RIP
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