by dahl2013

I’m feeling a bit soppy today. I guess Christmas is creeping up on me and I am beginning to panic a little – not the happiest of times for us. Popped into school today as well which pricked at my heart. Two whole years of children won’t know who Rowie is. I saw one of the beautiful Rowan trees donated by my workmates when Rowan died with the beautiful stone and his memorial plaque. The tree is positively thriving which made me smile.

I got to thinking about the ceremony that accompanies the death of a loved one; or more exactly, the ceremony that I personally have attached to my life since Rowie passed. Does everyone have a ceremonial routine that they follow or am I the only one?

Thank God for the ‘big Rowie picture’. Standing 60cms x 90cms and facing us as we walk into the lounge, this picture, almost as large as life, has been immensely therapeutic for us. Every morning my first job is to pop in to see him; I touch his cheek, his hand and tell him just how much I love him. I then turn the blossom tree on which stays lit all day until the bedtime ceremony! I touch his ashes casket, surrounded by owls, on the piano as I leave the room.

I run the shower in the bathroom. I allow the steam to build up so that I can write him a message on the mirror. It’s the same message every day but one that comes from the bottom of my heart. I sort of expect him to write one back to me! Once I have showered I turn the extractor fan on because I reckon Rowie has had long enough to see the message I have left for him.

My day can start properly then. I have acknowledged Rowie and I have told him how important he still is to me. However busy my day gets, I know that he is tuned in to me and will stay around me; watching me, encouraging me, sometimes laughing at me; with me.

The things I have chosen to do with my life recently ensure that Rowie is never far from my thoughts. I write my blog; I am in the process of publishing my first book; I make natural gemstone jewellery, each with a little Tibetan silver owl attached in memory of Rowie and his love for these feathered beauties – the brand called Row-aka-Ruru (Row for Rowan, Owaka for the place where he lived, Ruru for the owl he loved). If I am taken away from this environment for the day it’s OK because I have gone through the morning ritual.

I spend quality time in my room every day; my healing room that is full of therapeutic crystals, candles and incense. A room where I can listen to music if I want or meditate if I can still the babble in my mind for long enough! This is a time where I ask for continued emotional healing and recharge my batteries. I ask to be able to help others going through a similar grieving process – I ask that things I write may help other people who don’t know where to begin with their own healing.

At the end of the day, the last thing I do before going to bed is to visit the ‘big Rowie picture’ again. I touch his cheek, his hand and tell him just how much I love him. I turn out the blossom tree. I touch his ashes casket, surrounded by owls, on the piano as I leave the room.

All my ceremony over for the day.