Loss and remembrance

The funeral of a much loved aunt yesterday had me thinking about how we cope with the loss of a loved one and the severance, whether expected and prepared for or unexpected, of that connection. It also made me think about how each one of us is a link in a chain and how that break can cause the remainder to separate and lose it's way.

Yesterday I spent time and shared with family I see rarely - and I wonder why that is. We all work hard, full time, have families and friends to look after, precious time to spare for other interests - and when we get together we always say we must not leave it so long next tim, or worse, until the next funeral. Much of my family live around the globe, some just in other parts of Britain and, given the motorway systems, it can take as long to go and see them as it does to fly to see the others!

A comment made by a cousin of mine started to put things into a little bit of perspective for me. His daughter will soon be returning with her own family to live in Australia. He pointed out to her that if she needed him he was only 24 hours away.

But online we are actually often only a click away.

With technology - Facebook for example, we can keep up to date with each others news and pictures, via Dropbox and other cloud systems we can share entire files of photographs and film clips. MSN and Skype offer instant chat and also video. A brief call and there we are, face to face, and without the feeling of obligation of a lengthy visit or phone call where we have the concern of little time or having to try to fill all the time we have together with talk (or is that just me?)

We really are closer than we think.

But what about where we started - with death. No click is going to bring that person back. They live now only in our memories and hearts - and you can argue that that is exactly where they should be anyway, dead or alive.

A couple of years ago a beloved cat, Willow, died very suddenly when she was hit by a car. She had spent all night cuddled up to me in bed and let herself out of my bedroom window in the morning. The next thing I knew was the phone call when we were having Sunday morning breakfast.

Now you have to understand first of all that I am mad cat lady. My cats are part of my family - they spend lots and lots of quality time with me and I care for them (ok it's debatable if that is reciprocated - but they do at least know it is me that opens the tuna can).

At this time I was caught up in a Facebook game (yes I know ... :-( ) called FarmTown. I had at this time become sufficiently involved that I desperately (!) needed neighbours and so ............

........ well I'm sure you know what happened next.

However now I rarely visit my farm (or Willow's!) but, on the occasional times that I do - there she is. On her farm she looks 'human' but on mine she is the little black furball wandering around that she was in life. In fact most of my 'farm' when I visit brings back memories or has some meaning - Willow has Willow trees around her and a rose garden. I have stables where my sone used to ride, a little house in a bluebell wood (I had bluebells from my grandmother Maisie's garden which I planted out into a woodland in an old house of ours, a peach, pear and plum garden - one of my son's favourite books when he was young ........ and so on. It is a place where there are memories and meaning for me personally now those times, and that particular beautiful cat, have gone forever from my life.

At a recent conference Kate Anthony talked about using Second Life for the auditory hallucinations of schizophrenia - to give them a persona and take back control from them.

It occurs to me that is another way of 'visiting' a loved one you can no longer see in real life and may bring comfort.

But bear with me here, I am notorious for sitting on the fence - it is my speciality!

Is what I am taking about here healthy psychologically? Is there some possible more sinister result from keeping someone 'alive' elsewhere than your memory? Is there a risk that you never allow yourself a proper ending?

I must admit I'm not sure. The possibilities are there - after all we keep photographs and film clips and watch them again and remember special people in special times - it is a critical part of the healing and acceptance process. What is different about taking that control and maintaining a memory in another place online? Somewhere special for you individually?

My 'farm' is precious to me - but, much as I loved Willow, it is not the same as losing my aunt - or anyone else who was important in my life.

I think I'll stay on the fence for now.