I thought I would share this little story.. I had a dream some 30 years ago it was about my granny's grave I was kneeling at it and scrapping the stones away and kind of digging at the concrete surface, I heard my granny's voice in her usual quiet loving tone saying "you will get your reward" I remember the dream so well because I have such great love for my granny in fact I grew up with her, the dream has always puzzled me until now, my uncle passed away last year and he lived in england (my granny's son) I was asked last week by a cousin would be ok if I bury his ashes in my granny's grave, well it knocked me for six, next week I will be moving the stones of granny's grave and digging the concrete to bury his ashes wow just amazing..
I always thought it surprising how we might not think of someone who died for many months and then suddenly they pop us right in the mind.Aosmeimtes too I think mourning someone who died is like a dull toothache. Sometimes you half notice it but it is always there. When all the others were away at Mass' - Poem by Seamus Heaney [from Clearances in memoriam M.K.H., 1911-1984] 3 When all the others were away at Mass I was all hers as we peeled potatoes. They broke the silence, let fall one by one Like solder weeping off the soldering iron: Cold comforts set between us, things to share Gleaming in a bucket of clean water. And again let fall. Little pleasant splashes From each other's work would bring us to our senses. So while the parish priest at her bedside Went hammer and tongs at the prayers for the dying And some were responding and some crying I remembered her head bent towards my head, Her breath in mine, our fluent dipping knives- Never closer the whole rest of our lives. Seamus Heaney
