I stole the title for this post from an email my Beloved Brother sent me. We usually title our emails to each other, and some are hilarious, while others tell of darker matters.
In his email, BB was remarking that when we were young, the peaches, nectarines and plums all tasted magical, and their scent was so delicious, you were tempted to sink your teeth into the wonderful fruit.
We were lucky as we had a wonderful huge nectarine tree, and peach trees with both white and golden flesh.
And Tamarillo trees, and a wonderful huge passionfruit vine on an A frame trellis our Grandfather built. It was wonderful to sit under the vine, and indulge in the wonderful fruit in secret! Not that we were not allowed to eat the fruit, it was just the magic of hiding away, that was so appealing.
Now the fruit we buy is all uniform in size, lacks much in the way of aroma and the taste seems to have all but disappeared.
We try to buy Local, from a fruit shop that stocks the slightly spotted, or blemished, and undersized fruit and vegetables, from local growers who can't send the produce to the Market. I can't really say the produce tastes better, though some potatoes and beans we purchased at a local farm gate were wonderful. I suspect they cost us more than a shop price, but the taste was worth the money.
Living in the past, some would say. Happy memories though, and the taste of the wonderful fruit seems to remain even after all these years.
I recieved a card, and some photos from friends in Chrischurch New Zealand. The photos were of the friends' youngest son's wedding, and they were beautiful. I phoned them to say Thankyou for the card and the wonderful photos. These friends had been friends with Gom and I for a long time, and we had been with them when that youngest son was born.
'A' kept urging me to 'Come and stay! We will look after you, and you must think about living your life now'. I know the intentions of people are kind, and remarks such as this, are motivated by genuine caring. However after the phone call, I slipped into a deep depression, and realised I could never go back to Chch without Gom. It was his hometown, and I could not bear to see it alone, or indeed, in it's altered state.
I have many friends there who seem to have become accustomed to the continuing shakes and rolls. All have suffered damage to their homes, but they are still 'habitable'. All are promised repairs some time in the future. It must surely be unnerving to live in such uncertainty.
Such is the nature of my grief, I have patches where I think I am making progress, then find myself crying uncontrollably, and feeling so wretched. I dont know how other people make it through. I know this lovely lady, http://idlepersiflage.blogspot.com/ will understand how I am feeling, as she seems to have very similar feelings and experiences. (It is so long since I have blogged, I have forgotten how to link a site to a name only!)
I can hardly believe this year is underway.
I am desperately trying to regain some normalcy~ whatever that is, or will be, now.
I read other blogs, where the 'widow' (Odious word!) seems to be living on and enjoying life again. I suppose everyone is very different. I am trying various ways of coping with it all.
Joan Baez
In his email, BB was remarking that when we were young, the peaches, nectarines and plums all tasted magical, and their scent was so delicious, you were tempted to sink your teeth into the wonderful fruit.
We were lucky as we had a wonderful huge nectarine tree, and peach trees with both white and golden flesh.
And Tamarillo trees, and a wonderful huge passionfruit vine on an A frame trellis our Grandfather built. It was wonderful to sit under the vine, and indulge in the wonderful fruit in secret! Not that we were not allowed to eat the fruit, it was just the magic of hiding away, that was so appealing.
Now the fruit we buy is all uniform in size, lacks much in the way of aroma and the taste seems to have all but disappeared.
We try to buy Local, from a fruit shop that stocks the slightly spotted, or blemished, and undersized fruit and vegetables, from local growers who can't send the produce to the Market. I can't really say the produce tastes better, though some potatoes and beans we purchased at a local farm gate were wonderful. I suspect they cost us more than a shop price, but the taste was worth the money.
Living in the past, some would say. Happy memories though, and the taste of the wonderful fruit seems to remain even after all these years.
I recieved a card, and some photos from friends in Chrischurch New Zealand. The photos were of the friends' youngest son's wedding, and they were beautiful. I phoned them to say Thankyou for the card and the wonderful photos. These friends had been friends with Gom and I for a long time, and we had been with them when that youngest son was born.
'A' kept urging me to 'Come and stay! We will look after you, and you must think about living your life now'. I know the intentions of people are kind, and remarks such as this, are motivated by genuine caring. However after the phone call, I slipped into a deep depression, and realised I could never go back to Chch without Gom. It was his hometown, and I could not bear to see it alone, or indeed, in it's altered state.
I have many friends there who seem to have become accustomed to the continuing shakes and rolls. All have suffered damage to their homes, but they are still 'habitable'. All are promised repairs some time in the future. It must surely be unnerving to live in such uncertainty.
Such is the nature of my grief, I have patches where I think I am making progress, then find myself crying uncontrollably, and feeling so wretched. I dont know how other people make it through. I know this lovely lady, http://idlepersiflage.blogspot.com/ will understand how I am feeling, as she seems to have very similar feelings and experiences. (It is so long since I have blogged, I have forgotten how to link a site to a name only!)
I can hardly believe this year is underway.
I am desperately trying to regain some normalcy~ whatever that is, or will be, now.
I read other blogs, where the 'widow' (Odious word!) seems to be living on and enjoying life again. I suppose everyone is very different. I am trying various ways of coping with it all.
Joan Baez
