Edera of Little House In the Paddy continues her reflections. Today she remembers the hours immediately before and after her husbands death. The cat referred to below was, of course, Orlando (The Marmalade Cat)! Apparently he is actually a she! No matter. The compassion and tenderness of this creature is breath taking. I’m so glad she came across the road to sit vigil, early morning on the 14th July.

Around 3.30, with my heart racing, I waited outside our front door. Then a cat appeared from the dark and snuggled against my legs. When I sat down on the doorstep she jumped on my lap which was very comforting. She was purring softly and when I looked at her face, I thought she looked quite like our old cat Tora. At that moment I had a slight fear that Iain was visiting me to say good-bye.

I’d like to be able to say something about these reflections on Little House however I’m rather too close to the process to say anything useful. Or coherent.

Thank you for the notes encouraging me to write about Buddhist ceremonial and the steps needed to be taken generally following a death. I’ll do that when I can. Thank you for your messages of support too. All much appreciated.

By the end of the day; ready to rest, relax, sit for a bit and then turn in. These summer nights the light doesn’t fade from the sky until nearly 10.00 pm. With skylights I can watch the grey/blue turn to navy blue, some nights the stars shine in. There is something about an attic room that can’t be matched, and at the moment my room is at the top of the house. Ah, attics! When the light has faded and all is still I’ve been inclined, these past days, to stay with the stars. If not the stars then deep sleep into the morning has become my habit.

I’ve been thinking about documenting what happens when a Buddhist dies. Specifically what happens to the body; the practicalities around disposal and the ceremonies we do in my particular Buddhist tradition to do that with due dignity. And I’ll hopefully get down to that now I’m rested and settled.

There is no doubt about it a sudden death is a shock to the system, what ever the circumstances of the death happen to have been. The shock, rather like an echo, reverberates for quite some time. Even after the last strains have faded, which to a large extent they have for me, there still remains a certain something. A long shadow perhaps, cast by a presence no longer there.

Edera continues to write for Little House, at the moment documenting the days leading up to her husband’s death. Some days she takes a break and writes about this day. I know already that these past weeks, as we sift and sort our way through our days together, will leave a deep impression on both of us. One grows close in adversity.