There are no easy answers

I spoke with someone this week who I had not met with before. He asked me what I did for a living and I told him.

‘That sounds interesting…and difficult’.

A day or so before I got a call: a local undertaker wanted me to do a funeral for the daughter of someone whose funeral I had done less that 4 weeks ago.

It seems a world away from some who post on my Facebook stream.


There are no easy answers.


I can hear that cry,

And I want it to stop,

Offer comfort to it

(or ignore it).


Another life finding out,

That ‘security’ goes so fast,


It doesn’t take much,

To fall,

Spinning out of control.


Tissues offered,

A comforting arm,

The tears stop,

(for now),

The sun shines,

The embarrasment;

‘I’m sorry’.


This is how we live,

I guess the point is,

To acknowledge it,

And not pretend it never happens,

Or shuffle, full of embarrassment,

When it happens near to us.


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