My Christmas Rose

Some people think the news itself is the worst part ......... it isn't .......... it is the long, long  journey afterwards.


When you are told that someone you love has died, in whatever way or however old, you are devastated.


Everyone reacts slightly differently and whilst each person's grieving process may follow a similar path ... it is always an individual path. You generally expect ... and understand ... that the first year is going to be the hardest. You tend to know that whenever it comes to Birthdays, Anniversary's, Christmases and special family events you will go through a tough patch. What is sometimes NOT understood, is that your life actually, long term, is never going to be the same again.


Of course this can be said of many events ..... having children .... children leaving home .... long term illnesses etc., can all change a life dramatically but I personally don't think I really accepted the longevity of the impact of my husband's death.


However, I can look back 18 years on and realise that the intensity at least, has eased.


Christmas, 18 years ago was a real nightmare. Mark had died in the August and I was understandably wallowing in grief. There is a long list of issues I was having over that period and an equally long list of those friends and family who were helping me through - but one incident that stands out and, that I was reminded of this year, was getting a rose for placing at the cemetery....


I was kept very busy with the 3 children (then aged 4, 2 and 8 months) and had quite simply not realised that at Christmas, lots of people will be buying flowers for their loved ones to take to a cemetery, as well as roses for those still with us and for whom they may be visiting over the Christmas period. 


I had left it until Christmas Eve to get a single rose for Mark .................................... and I could not find one anywhere !!!!


This now seems impossible to believe - because everywhere I went this year had red roses - the petrol stations, the Supermarkets and of course the florists ..........but literally ..... NOWHERE had a spare Rose for Christmas 1993.


I had tried every florists I could think of in Kempston and  several of those I knew of in Bedford. I arrived at my Mum and Dad's at about 4pm Christmas Eve in floods of tears, an absolute wreck. At that time, to me, this was so important. I absolutely had to leave a rose at the cemetery for Mark on Christmas morning. 


Thankfully, my Mum and Dad took over. 


Mum calmed me down and sorted the children out - Dad just disappeared ....................... 


I have no idea how long he was gone and no recollection of how many shops/florists he visited ....................... but of course he turned up - Rose in hand ! 


Between Mum and Dad - Mission Impossible was achieved! 


Within a few years I had realised that placing the rose itself was not so important as remembering him, talking about him with the children and keeping his memory alive. That, in fact, if I did not get to the cemetery for a special event because I had 3 youngsters and, at different points in life, was working or just running around like a headless chicken ............. then it really wasn't going to make a difference if it was a day late. I believe that he would have seen me ......... running around like the proverbial headless chicken ................. and sympathised ............and not wanted me, or the kids, or anyone else  ... to be that stressed !


So, this year I was very happy that a rose on my rosebush in the garden flowered (the mild weather has some benefits!). A beautiful, deep red rose .... and without any stress ... I got to the cemetery .............. 


but not until the day after Boxing Day !