Our skies our an alluring powder blue once more,
The anarchy has been overturned, replaced with the lull after the storm,
Jack's funeral was, by all accounts, beautiful to behold, his friends and family could not have been more dignified in their celebration of the life he lived -and really lived.
Out came tales of teenage rebellion, which I pretend I didn't know about, Jack, about to take his test, and a natural driver, had been "borrowing" his parents cars and driving Oli around from a very young age, his mum told Oli he was just glad he had lived, and experienced life in his short years.
He will be forever missed,
Olivia dealt with it amazingly, such is the strength she was given, for I believe Jack- unfailing in his zest for life, was watching over her from his spot in heaven, for I know he'll have a good seat.
It is still surreal to me, as I sit here and type, the humidity weighing heavy on my hands, with Michael Bublé entertaining the background, that such things happen, that life simply continues, that we are in the midst of a heatwave, when so many people are suffering and yearning, yearning for what might have been, what should have been.
Dear sweet, placid Andrew, so lovely, is awaiting an op still, he is patient, but now talk has turned to "trying to save the leg" God's speed in your prayers for this poor boy, who had just come home from university for the weekend to revise. And my lovely Oli, she is continuing to Amaze me in her courage and strength, she revealed after Jack's funeral that they had fought over the front seat that night, for it is always her's, This simply reinforces my belief that she will make her mark on this world, with her domino shaped scar's.
As Jack's sweet, brave mother said to my sweet Oli, He couldn't have had a better person with him at the end. She's on a long, steep road, she may not be able to run yet, but she's here to try.
Until next time my sweethearts,