Tag: death
Manjula’s watching
Steevern
I know what’s happening.
Don’t for one minute think ‘out of sight – out of mind’ or that I’m not still with you.
I am here…… and you worry me
Have you learnt nothing?
I came as your maid, then nine years later, do you know what I’m going to say?
Yes, you’d become my maid.
That doesn’t mean it’s alright to lean on me soooo much. You should also stand on your own two feet.
I taught you how to manage things. All you had to do was copy me. Now look at what’s happened. The house is in a mess, the cleaners aren’t cleaning even when they manage to turn up, and you just hang around doing nothing in particular. (reading? I’ve told you its overrated) and the list of jobs, like hanging those pictures you’ve not done, just gets longer and longer. You seem to be specialising in self-pity. Now that’s sad. I don’t know about glass half full more like empty empty.
You’re a disgrace 😉.
Please get your act together.
Above all ….. realise that I love you more than anything and will always be with you.
An important ‘date’, a big event
It happens but once in a lifetime
It takes a fair amount of preparation.
The proud father.
Some are already finding it all too much
Satish explains that both he and his wife are from villages where it’s still very important to celebrate this event
On the day itself he rushed home
It’s now a couple of weeks later on a specially chosen auspicious day. Hundreds of family and friends are expected. There will be a ceremony, gift giving, photos and a slap up meal.
I think that close proximity to the only foreigner at the event might be what’s worrying them.
It’s filling up…… it’s like waiting for a performance.
It’s ….. Sukrutha, Satish daughter’s coming of age, traditionally in villages it would be very very significant as it would signify that a young woman was ready for marriage.
it’s still very important for Sukrutha and an added advantage is, she can now wear big earrings. 🙂
Manjula would have been very sorry to miss this important event in a girl’s life. When Manjula reaches the same age. She had no idea what to expect and when it happened knew absolutely nothing about it. It was an altogether different experience. There was no family there let alone a gathering. She was working away from home as a maid and her madam spotted what was happening, cleaned her up and explained that she’d started her periods.
It obviously came as a major shock to Manjula. What a difference with a stable family and caring parents.
Farrell Factoid
A girls’ first period, known by some as a ‘date’, would traditionally signify that she’s ready for marriage. Clearly not the case nowadays but still incredibly significant stage as she becomes a woman. The celebration of the event is a great opportunity to bring people together and create community, still especially important in village life.
Manjula’s very different background meant she was already out working at someone’s home separated from her family and without prior knowledge of what was to happen. Where was her mum in all this? Look at how early she was working away from home all on her own.
Helping children with death
I’ve found three great books to help discuss loss and grief with children.
This is my earlier attempt through a read out letter to my granddaughter Poppy.
My daughter in law Alice reading one of the books to Poppy.
Our guests
Thank you …. thank you …. thank you.
Friends, yes guests who have always become friends and all our other worldwide friends have been wonderful supporting me through email, messages, likes, you name it.
I’ve been in London less than a week, managed a days work, granddaughter sitting and met up for wonderful support from four different sets of guests. Amazing!
OK we’re English so invariably beer is involved.
Manjula more memories.
It’s eight weeks now. I’m in London and carrying with me a photograph of my beautiful Manjula.
We don’t have access to Mysore Market and it’s wonderful selection of beautiful fragrant flowers.
Manjula did however love receiving roses and the local Sainsbury’s has obliged.
Manjula is, of course, in my thoughts, every single minute but I also especially remember her by placing her photo somewhere prominent and displaying flowers on the monthly anniversary of that Saturday morning when she died.
What happens after we die?
A letter to my Granddaughter Poppy.
I’m staying with her and her mum and dad.
It’s her dad Ben’s birthday.
This morning on waking Poppy gave me sweets and asked if Manjula liked them and if we could telephone her.
So she doesn’t know about what’s happened, or maybe she does and she’s looking to me for further explanation and understanding, hence this letter to be read out….. to her, which I’ve just done after supper
Manjula has died.
When people’s bodies become tired and can’t manage anymore they stop working, they die. Usually it’s when they are older, sometimes when they are younger.
It’s OK to be sad, to miss her and to cry. I do a lot of the tIme. She’s still with us in our hearts and in our minds.
We don’t know what happens to their spirit when someone dies because it’s not happened to us yet. Most of us believe part of us, usually called our spirit carries on.
Manjula (and I and lots of people in India) believe that part of us carries on and usually comes back and lives within another body. So that would mean we never really die, nobody really knows.
In India when someone’s body stops working it’s cremated and the funeral ceremonies are about helping her spirit move on….
Some people think that afterwards they hang around in a beautiful place, like a valley, where they sing, dance and have great fun.
Some believe we’ll catch up with each other again, hold hands continue to be friends and carry on.
Some people believe that butterflies or dragonflies are messengers or they find some other way to pass a message back to their loved ones.
I know Manjula’s spirit is still alive – where exactly I don’t know – maybe waiting for me, maybe waiting to be the spirit once she finds another body.
We know she was loved and gave love and we can’t ask for anything more we still love and miss her.
I know she had a happy life when we were together, she was a very good person, looked after others wherever and whenever she could. I think and believe our spirits will meet again somewhere in the future.
So it’s sad because we miss Manjula but it’s also happy because she’s left us with wonderful memories, she’s still in our hearts and her spirit lives on.
