As the year closes
I wrote this two years ago.
It was minus six degrees this morning as Albert Claude and I went up the lane and round the pond in time to see the Winter Solstice sun rise. Cold, beautiful and quiet. A perfect start to our day. Except it was too cold for his sisters and Michel, none of whom seemed keen, or able, to venture out in that early, frozen hour. So not quite perfect as we weren’t all there to share the chilly peace.
Winter Solstice, December 2021
At the time I wrote that, only my closest friends and family knew what was going on in my life. That the one sister unable to join our walk was at home, dying. When I wrote it I was floored by the shock and grief of Renae’s life coming to a sudden end. She died on Christmas Eve. I couldn’t speak about it, literally my throat closed each time I tried. Writing was all I could do. Reading and writing are always my sanctuary during difficult times. And walking. In my new book, walks get a good airing. I walked miles in the rain and cold of late November in England in the days following Susie-Belle’s death.
While the primal feeling I have, is one of wanting to hide away and give in to the agonies of weeping for what I’ve lost, this is not what I must do. For the sake of Renae and Twinkle. I cannot indulge myself if it means ignoring Twinkle’s requirements. She’s always been happiest when we’re out walking. So, today we’ve walked, and walked.
Blog post, November 2015 a few days after Susie-Belle’s death
I feel a strong urge to do this, not only to keep Twinkle’s mind at ease, but, for myself too. I have to walk our favourite walks without my little friend at my feet. Susie-Belle was always there, she never strayed more than a few steps away; in all our thousands of walks we’ve taken together, I could look down and see her there, from the first walk we took together just before her cataract operation, she’s been there. So I must be out and walking this week. I have to move forwards, together with Renae and Twinkle, watching them enjoy the simplicity of their lives, and drawing from them the comfort I need right now.
It’s no accident that the charity I founded is one based on walks.
For me, from late autumn there’s a gathering of sad anniversaries. From our first dog, Jasmine’s death in December 2010, to Susie-Belle’s five years later which coincided with my dad’s final weeks, and two years ago Renae’s. I try not to let anniversaries dwell in my head. But, with the memories and rituals of Christmas built over decades, it’s inescapable. And I am accepting it is as it is. For me at least, allowing introspection and quiet reflection is healthy in a busy, noisy, often sad world. Christmas can be a wonderful time of year and I have always loved it. But, it can also be painful for some, which I believe is worth acknowledging. The yin and yang of life is always present.
