- Holly Searle
- London, United Kingdom
- Holly Searle is a writer who was born in Westminster in the middle of London. She shares her birthday with Jarvis Cocker and David Seaman and like Jarvis Cocker she wears glasses but has nothing whatsoever in common with David Seaman. She is fascinated by words, people and their stories, and regularly spends hours fantasising about being offered a weekly column. She has a degree in Film and Television which she gained from Brunel University in 1997. She has been blessed with two quite remarkable children whom she adores. She enjoys the company of her friends and the circus that is life. Long Walk to Forever by Kurt Vonnegut is her favourite short story. She is the author of the published children's tale The Story of Balan Singh, and is currently working on her first book.
Saturday, 23 March 2013
That Was The Week (Or Two) That Was By Holly Searle
I have come to the conclusion that life is just like the weather we have been enduring of late.
Shockingly changeable and not surprisingly unreliable for the time of year.
I am also of the opinion, that at some point in our evolutionary time frame, we all ate and ate and ate until we were fit to burst over Winter to enable us to hibernate in our caves, until such a time that the weather turned, and we emerged and were greeted by a warm peck on the cheek by the sun.
And I bet, as I write this, that there is a scientist asleep on a sofa somewhere, who has that data hidden in a draw. And the reason that it hasn't been published, is simply because, it is just too damn cold to go to the post office.
Mark my words, I bet that this is true.
And if you listen hard enough, you can hear the scientist snoring.
Less than two weeks ago, I attended the funeral of a friend. I was truly shocked by her passing. It is rare for me to cry instantly, but on hearing this sad news, I did.
It was just too awful.
One minute, she was here, and then the next, just like that, she was gone, and her life had ended.
On the day of her funeral, it was the most glorious day.
The sun had finally come out and shinning brightly in a crystal clear blue sky.
It was a perfect early Spring morning.
As I made my way to her house, I smiled as I knew how delighted she would be with such a morning.
Her house was full to the brim with people of all ages.
Funerals are always awkward affairs at the best of times.
What do you say to the family that is left behind in her wake?
You cannot remove the pain that they are going through, and you don't want to appear too intrusive.
Their grief was heartbreaking.
I am blessed inasmuch as I have only attended five other funerals; My Nan's, that of a friend's child, the dearest elderly gentleman I have known, an old school friend and a neighbour.
They were all equally full of an unequivocal painful sadness.
But even though this funeral was just as sad as all of the others, I realised that it was full of love for this majestic woman.
In her absence, in that vast void that she had left, were those that she had loved so very much, and it showed.
On arriving at the crematorium, we all made our way into the church.
Once we were all seated, the lady vicar (my friend would have liked that), asked us all to stand as the coffin was brought in, accompanied by the Gerry and The Pacemakers' song Don't Let the Sun Catch You Crying.
I hadn't at that point.
However, the love that her family had for her was most notable in the speech that the vicar gave on their behalf.
She covered it all. Her life and the importance of it and the continuation of further life because of it.
The vicar talked about her love for her sons and the love that her husband had had for her.
And when the vicar quoted him as having said that she was the light of my life, I lost it completely, and I am afraid that the sun did see me crying.
And once I had started, I couldn't stop.
It was just such a lovely service full of knowing and love for such a wonderful human being.
She wasn't perfect, but who amongst us all really is and what is perfection anyway?
To all of those people she had touch with her good nature, smile, and good solid advice throughout her life, and to all of those sitting in that church on a bright sunny early Spring morning in March, she was.
The world turns, and life moves on.
It's a bit like a giant colouring book isn't it, life?
There is always a bit that you need to fill in. Or a bit that you have overlooked, or indeed could have coloured in a bit better.
I have lots of lovely vibrant colours in mine, but as I examine it closely, I can see some bits that need addressing and some bits that need revising.
One of these was to track down a dear friend, that I haven't seen for years.
Some people you know in your life are just easy to love aren't they?
When they aren't around, every now and then, you wonder about them and what and where they are.
Well, I had decided that it was about time that I found him and I did.
A card sent to an address, and then a text, followed by a call, and then a meeting.
My world and my colouring book are looking brighter due to this effort.
And that is all it takes, a little effort for those we love and share a history with.
And then I had a date.
When a member of your close family suggests that you should try meeting a man via a dating website that they have discovered called You're Not Dead Yet.
You shake your head and then thank them politely for bringing this to your attention, and then you start making arrangements of your own.
And I had.
And that is how I had a date.
It was a fine date in a fine place, even if the weather wasn't kind.
The man was lovely and we got on well, and, well you know, I wasn't dead yet.
A few days later, we made an arrangement for a second date.
In the meantime I had seen my old friend and it woken up something in me, the feeling that familiarity is the key to what love is really all about.
On the second date, with my date, things didn't go so well.
The man arrived with a bee in his bonnet that he couldn't quite placate.
He wasn't happy and didn't appear to be able to enjoy just being.
In the end, the stain of it spread and the cloth was ruined.
An afternoon of angst.
And as I made my way home and back to those I loved, I knew it was for the best.
All that I had encountered in the previous week, or two, had just reminded me of what I already had, what I was seeking, and what I wasn't.
Life can be as changeable as the weather, but some things remain fixed forever.
So, when the sun finally comes out, don't let it catch you crying.