A shock and a sadness

I am still slightly reeling emotionally after sending an email copied to all the members of the reading group I can remember (or have addresses for) talking about Christmas and next year's reading list possibilities (hoping for J.P.Donleavy).

Then I heard from a fellow member that one of the most lovely members of the library staff died in August.  She had been ill for a little while apparently beforehand and although this must have overlapped with, maybe, some of the time she was there I had no inkling.  Nor had I heard anything of it from anyone else at the library or at the reading group...

But none of that matters really, it feels like nervous chatter.  What matters is that she was a lovely librarian, a sensitive and kind lady, someone who added a lot to my life with the library and I am certain for many others.  She will be missed and I do not know her personally enough to have much insight, but I sincerely hope it was peaceful at the end.  When I find out the condition or hospital/hospice which may have been involved then in absence of any instruction she may have left I shall make donation in her memory.

Normally, as you may be aware, I keep a limit on the personal nature of what features on this blog.  But since the theme is highly literary it does not seem I can ignore this and since the death has passed I am not sure what more I can do than recognise her absence and celebrate what she gave to mine and others lives - to the world.  At least she will not have to witness the cuts to the library service that seem imminent, cuts of some considerable severity no doubt .

Over the previous weekend I attended my first ever Quaker Meeting for marriage too - it was very special and I baked cake (along with five others!), breakfasted with everyone, worshipped, and witnessed along with perhaps sixty or seventy others (the certificate was HUGE!)... I say all of this because it makes the death a very stark contrast and at the same time brings into focus the Quaker advice to celebrate the life as you mourn the absence of a person.

And to top it off I have stopped smoking.  It is not so bad, I am confident of not relapsing to smoke again, but at the same time I am very conscious of how fragile life is, how easily we take our good health and lives for granted.

If I knew it would be appreciated at all I would dedicate this entry to the memory of the said Librarian.  But I think she would not like that.  Condolences to the comments would be most welcomed by myself though - that is just the sort of thing blogs are good for.  I shall even lay one in tribute myself, when I find a suitable poem (she liked poetry... I feel really sad about this.... but also hopeful that, so long as it was anonymous, she may have felt it was a good thing).

She will be missed and remembered by me and by others, she touched our lives and left them better for that.


Comments

  1. "We rode in sorrow, with strong hounds three, Bran, Sgeolan, and Lomair, On a morning misty and mild and fair. The mist-drops hung on the fragrant trees, And in the blossoms hung the bees. We rode in sadness above Lough Lean, For our best were dead on Gavra's green."

    And then, later in life, although W.B. Yeats may not have been the best it is so well known it barely needs mention;

    "Cast a cold Eye On Life, on Death. Horseman, pass by."

    Author Author on
  2. (with apologies for the gender change to Pablo Neruda):

    "A woman lives for as long as we carry her inside us, For as long as we carry the harvest of her dreams, For as long as we ourselves live, Holding memories in common, a woman lives. " i imagine she would be so touched to know she touched you so much. annie x

    annie on