Spiritual Retreat...

Yesterday I went on a Spiritual Retreat Day, organised by Helen House Hospice, where I belong to a bereaved parents group. The day was made possible by the generous offer by a lady who, I believe, is a benefactor of the hospice. She kindly allowed us to use her beautiful home, set in the Oxfordshire countryside. The day was facilitated by Mark, the chaplain at the hospice and he put together a programme that was loosely structured into group presentations, that we were under no obligation to take part in, and free time to spend in any way we wished for reflection.

The first group presentation was focused on Michelangelo's Pieta sculpture. Mark talked about this image and how it represented loss. I found it incredibly powerful to see Mary cradling the body of Jesus in her arms. It resonated with me in a way that words cannot describe. I think the image will stay with me forever.

Mark talked about a sense of holding on and letting go. It is a feeling that I am aware of now in my life, as I move on into territory that is new and challenging. Territory that I wouldn't have been entering had my darling boy not left me. I would be lying if I said I wasn't nervous. I would be lying if I said I wasn't dreading the conversations that are going to be inevitable about how many children I have (I still haven't formulated the response that I find comfortable...) It is proof that life continues and I can only hope that Tom's spirit is holding me up and pushing me forwards. It comes very easily to me to feel guilty that I am moving on without him, but when I get the chance for some dedicated time to focus on my grief, such as the time I spend at Helen House, it allows me to see that, actually, my grief is still there, just under the surface, and I find this a huge comfort to let my tears flow freely and without any fear. It affirms to me that the decision I made after Tom passed away, that I would not try to get over losing him, but instead learn to live with losing him, was the right decision to make.

We were blessed with a glorious September day and the gardens at the house were perfect for spending time either alone or with friends that I have made. They were filled with birdsong and butterflies. I discovered the most amazing walled kitchen garden and swings hidden in oak trees. I was drawn to this bench, flanked by agapanthus and looking down towards rolling hills beyond immaculate beds and perfectly cut lawn.

I proved to myself that I am not a shameless blogger, armed with a camera, photographing everything! I think I behaved in an appropriate manner, without taking advantage of the family's privacy and limited my images to just three as a reminder of a lovely day...