19th July

We have been discussing having a memorial service for Vicky in Brighton or Ditchling, on 3rd October, which would have been her 90th birthday.  Times are uncertain but we would love to do it, as Vicky was very keen on the idea of a party and a slap-up tea.  It would be useful if anyone reading this could send me a quick email on josiedarling@hotmail.com to say if they could come on that date or not, as a vague idea of numbers would be helpful for choosing the venue.  We quite understand if people would rather not come, due to risks of COVID but hopefully, we can go ahead if we follow all the protocols.  
The other announcement is a scattering of Vicky's ashes at Niton, Isle of Wight, in mid-August.  It is the southernmost point of the Island and a favourite place for picnics when we were young.  The silence there is palpable.  If you would like to come to this event instead of the Memorial, perhaps you could let me know, but it is a remote spot, so we are only expecting diehard IOW fans to come really, or people there on holiday anyway.
I have started to adjust to life without Vick, but hope she is around, maybe in a glass-bottomed boat looking down on us all, as the poet Billy Collins suggests.  
Thanks for reading this, and spread the word about the two events mentioned.  I will post more details as soon as they are confirmed.
Josie

20th May

It has been a strange time for all of us.  For several weeks I felt dead and empty and glum and grumpy but now I am starting to feel more like myself, although my body aches quite a lot as if every cell is sad about Vick's death.  
Things that have helped me are:
1.  Swimming in the soupy sea every day whether I like it or not.
2.  Learning cajun violin on Zoom
3.  Two comical hens in my back garden, Patsy and Pamela.  I watch them endlessly and love attending to their every whim.  They are much better pets than dogs or cats as they produce eggs.
4.  Lots of early nights with my book, allotment hours, games of scrabble, walks, socially distanced chats, and simple pleasures like tasty meals, that we have all enjoyed in this lockdown time.
I have been back at work at the hospital doing my old job two days a week, which I think Vick would approve of, and I do some telephone work for the hospice instead of my acupuncture role.  Also, the process of gaining probate is time-consuming but necessary, so my days have been quite busy.  
I have no update yet about when Vick can have her memorial service.  Her ashes are sitting in a box on my dresser which is quite comforting.  
Life goes on whether we are suffering or not.  The weather is beautiful and so is the month of May. Cow parsley is my favourite flower.
Josie 

17th April

After a sea swim, and going to my allotment to pick blousy yellow tulips, and wildflowers like marigolds, forget-me-nots, rosemary, borage and cow parsley, we put on our best clothes and waited for Vick to arrive in the car outside our house.   Our fantastic neighbours along the road stood outside to pay their respects and the female funeral directors looked smart and quirky, with Vick's cardboard coffin in the back all covered with everyone's cards.  My car did its naughty trick of not starting but we all got there in the end, and Vick would have laughed.  The service was lead by our beautiful sensitive Quaker woman friend, and I and our three daughters were the pallbearers.  We placed the flowers on top of the coffin.  One of my brothers chose lovely music; Corelli and Vaughan Williams.  Otherwise, the base was silence in the chapel, and most of us got up to say a poem or a personal tribute when we felt like it.  We cried and I found myself making involuntary whimpers like a wet dog.  Afterwards, we had apple pie and cream in the gentle rain outside.  The cherry trees were in full bloom and milky primroses were all over the place.  It was wonderful to know other friends and family were marking the moment in separate places.  Overall I think Vick would have approved, but I bet she is looking forward to her memorial with more mates around.
Josie 

14th April

This is the poem I will be reading at Vicky's cremation at 1.30pm on Friday.  It was written by David Scott, who is a good friend of Vicky's.

I love this, as it expresses Vick's sparkle.

For the past three days, I have felt awfully sad and my mouth has been a downwards smile.  My sister died 15 years ago yesterday, and I miss her as well as Vicky.  Due to lockdown, we have to face our difficulties in life more, without merry distractions of activities and friends, but perhaps that is good in the long run.
I am feeling brighter today and just enjoyed a hard-boiled egg for lunch.  I am so grateful for the many cards and letters. 
My friend recited me this incredible poem today, which sums up my feelings, but as Vicky would say,
I need to just go through it.
 Josie

There are no endings

I will not formally stop this blog.  As the title says, there are no endings, and I will put details of the memorial service on here when the COVID restrictions are lifted.  
I have found this blog so useful for updating people, and Vicky and I always loved writing it together and would have a laugh about it.  I would recommend writing a blog to anyone, and it helped me feel so much more connected when I was in isolation with Vick last week.
Thank you so much to everybody who has read it.
Here are a few jolly photos for the time being.
Josie

8th April

Our four children decorated Vick's white cardboard coffin with all the lovely cards people have sent over the past few weeks, and put letters and poems inside.  There was apparently exactly the right amount, with all the space covered but not overcrowded, so that was lucky.  
The cremation will be next Friday 17th April at 1.30 pm in Brighton, but sadly only ten of us can attend, so it will just be me and one of my brothers and our families, and we will have some Quaker silence and speak our own personal tributes as well as a few poems and pieces of music.
All are welcome to the memorial in the future at Brighton MH.  We will announce the date as soon as we can.  And Vicky wanted her ashes scattered on the southernmost point of the Isle of Wight so there will be an outing there once restrictions are lifted.
There will be a notice in The Friend and the Hampshire Chronicle, and hopefully, most of Vicky's friends are aware now.
I am so grateful for so many things, but grief is like the hospice leaflet says it is, a whole mixture of emotions.  My daughter and I have run into the sea every day at 5.15pm as it is low tide then and the water has been calm, like the motionless streets.  It is cruelly cold but somehow life-affirming. 
I have been occupied with much Admin, but I am happy to do it really.  

4th April 4.45 am

I sat with Vicky holding her hand for much of the evening last night as her breathing had changed and she looked closer to the end.  About 11 pm I fell asleep, listening to her breath, and the window was open with the cool breeze blowing over our faces.
The night nurses gently woke me just before 2 am and said she had just gone.  I sat with her for a while and played Lark Ascending on her iPad.
Then I carefully folded and packed up everything in her room.  I gave the nurses her new John Lewis nightie to put on, and all the fantastic cards and poems people have sent will stay with her.  I also left her pale blue blanket and a tasteful material garland of yellow flowers around her that someone must have given her for a present.
I drove home in the deserted streets over the misty beacon and it is nice to be sitting at my kitchen table as I haven't been here for a week.
Vicky will go to Arka, a lovely funeral director in Brighton run by two women.  I will phone them in the morning, and discuss everything, and try to keep everyone in the loop.  
Thanks for reading this, and sending lovely messages.  I feel surrounded by support.

This is a poem I wrote for Vicky for her last birthday.

My mum is a grapefruit
A splash of flavour.
She makes me feel better.

My mum is an amber necklace
Robust and resilient
With a story to tell.

My mum is a squirrel
Sharp and so deft
Alert and able to think

My mum is a fleecy blanket
Smiling and clean
Cosy and warm.

My mum is my moon and sun
Always there in my universe.

Josie