We're in a sudden cold snap, just as we thought we were over the winter. The blankets I took off the bed are back on, and I've reinstated my hot water bottles.
I'm glad it wasn't so cold this time last year. I'm glad Andrew wasn't cold in the hospital. He liked Murwillumbah Hospital. The whole community agrees it's a beautiful hospital, specifically because of the warmth and caring of the staff. He remarked, towards the end of that last stay there, 'This is a lovely hospital.'
He hated being cold.
I guess I'm saying that I'm glad he died when he did. I am, for many reasons. As I keep saying — because it becomes evident over and over again — it was perfect timing. What I'm sad about is that he had to die at all. Which of course is not rational, as we all must. And I'm sad that he was so ill before he went — yet he bore it bravely, and still had many times of great joy in life.
Earlier tonight I went out and communed briefly with the full moon. I did my full moon ritual the night before, when she was 99% full, which is close enough for the full moon energy to take effect. Not sure why; just felt that it was the time to do it. Perhaps the Universe, or my Unconscious, knew that tonight, on the actual night of the full moon, I would need something more personal.
I went out because it was full moon. I rugged up warm because it was very cold out, using the hoodie again as my witch's robe (over slacks and boots). I was glad of both the hood and the length. Because I had done a full ritual last night, this time I simply greeted the moon and the elements. Then, unexpectedly, I found myself in tears, begging for help to heal my grief.
I want to have joy in remembering Andrew. I do have that, but I also have many tears. I don't suppose I'll ever stop missing him, and I wouldn't exactly want to. But I do want the intensity of grief to end.