Yesterday afternoon we went for a Sunday drive. I love a good Sunday drive.
We visited some waterfalls which are fifteen minutes from my house and which I have never been to. I find it amazing that there is such beautiful places on my doorstep and I do not even know. The hubby always says that you will travel miles to see something far away, but will not see something on your doorstep. In this case, that is very much true. But, we are trying to change this and do our best to visit the lovely places in our area.
Before we went for the Sunday drive though, we visited Patrick. This is a part of our Sunday which I do not really find any joy in. I find no comfort in visiting Patrick's grave. He has a nice view, but the view from our house will always be nicer. The view is about the only thing going for the place.
After we said 'hello', we went into the chapel to light a candle, which is what we usually do. Shay calls it, 'Patrick's Castle'. He has a great time running about and exploring. He usually stands up the front and pretends to read things out, like he is conducting a sermon.
Anything the Shay does, Florence is becoming more involved in and yesterday was no exception. They had both found a Mass sheet and were up the front on the altar having a great time. If there are people in the church, which is rare but happened yesterday, we will keep them quiet until the people leave. If the place is empty though, they can run around as much as they want, although there is a limit. I do not care that they run around and I do not care that they are loud and playful.
Watching them both play on the altar yesterday upset me because I thought, 'I wonder if Patrick is playing with them? I wonder if he comes and plays in the chapel with his brother and sister?' It breaks my heart. They were having such fun with each other that I wondered whether Patrick was a part of it. I would love for them to tell me that there was another wee boy there called Patrick who was playing with them. I have heard/read about stories like this and I would love if it happened with Shay and Florence.
But then I wondered whether Patrick is sad that this is the only way he can play with them? Does he feel left out? Does he feel sad that he cannot play with them the way that he should be playing with him? Is he lonely? I see the gap all the time, in everything that we do, in every place that we go. Sometimes the hubby and I will mention it, and sometimes no words have to be said to know that we are both thinking it, but it never goes away. It never subsides.
The sadness and loss is everywhere at the moment. There are changes afoot and it brings up emotions about Patrick and makes me relive his life and death. I worry about my relationship with him now; I worry about the children's relationship with their brother. It is confusing. It is a path that has no map or handbook.
Sometimes the sense of sadness is all consuming and I am there at the moment. But, life keeps ticking by and I am very much aware that the children will be up soon. I must dry the eyes and put on the other face - the one that is positive and optimistic and loves life - even when life is cloudy and cold and silent and lonely.