Gateway

The words about the Japanese gateway at Kew, got me thinking about gateways in general – and also about thresholds and liminal spaces (yes there will definitely be a post about that – its germinating!)

A few months ago now, my Life Long Friend from way back in Library School (hereinafter known as the LLF) came down to visit us in Dorset, with a special mission. It was to scatter the ashes of Adam, her late husband.

Adam had been fighting lung cancer for over a year – and as she said at his funeral – he was a brave and patient man. But he had also been a “slave to the weed” for over forty years. The LLF is a wonderful person too, and facilitated at the funeral herself. She and Adam had no religious beliefs, so she wrote and organized it all. I was pleased to be asked to read a poem. As she said afterwards, it went as well as anything like that can. And the food at the pub on the banks of the River Thames was scrummy!

Adam had lived with us in Dorset for a time many years ago, while they were seeing if it was financially viable to make the move away from London. Sadly it wasn’t, but I know Adam enjoyed his time with us, and it seemed right that when his family wanted somewhere to come and feel close to him (he has no other memorial) that it was in our village.

So, the LLF did all the organizing, and bought in a lovely buffet lunch from M& S and Waitrose (top supermarket food providers) and alcohol. All I had to do was to make sure we had enough chairs, plates, glasses, etc. Adam’s daughters, sister, mother-in-law and their partners came and we had a thoroughly enjoyable wake. It was several months after the funeral, and so everyone was feeling more positive and relaxed.

The LLF had bought some lovely roses, and everyone selected a bloom and we walked across to our Millennium village green. His ashes were scattered discretely, and his family went one by one and placed their flower. I am not one for worrying about mortal remains (I couldn’t even tell you where my parents ashes lie) To me its just like the husk that remains, nothing more. So I was surprised at how comforted I felt that “he” was nearby.
The river carried on flowing, and the birds carried on singing. And life carries on.

We went back to the Old School, and the buffet looked and tasted delightful. The conversation hummed, and laughter filled the house - just like it used to when Adam was here.

The LLF kindly offered a donation to the next project or need of the Millennium Green, and the Board of Trustees were replacing a gate to Harry’s Wood, so she paid for that in its entirety. It seemed very fitting – a gateway, a portal.

The gate is completed and used often every day, but we have yet to organize a plaque. The LLF wants just a simple one, with his name and dates on, in commemoration. But I always think of her simple words by the river bank “ Adam – husband, father, brother, son, and friend”