This family love that never dies
SHE was a bit anxious, not knowing what she would feel. The cremation service two days ago was a strange place for an eight-year-old, yet it was her choice to come — and I was glad.
Since my father loved his four great-grandchildren so much, it was fitting that one should be present to say the final goodbye.
Yet how disconcerting for a little girl who has only experienced the death of a pet to see adults struggling to control their tears.
How strange for Chloe to gaze on the coffin (patterned with the mysterious cosmos because Dad knew a lot about the planets) and know that the old man who has been a fixture in her life was lying within — never again to puzzle her with those daft Liverpool jokes she smiled at, ‘because it made him happy’.
How can a child begin to comprehend the awful permanence of death?
I would never try to ‘protect’ children from that knowledge. I’ve told Chloe how the new leaves throw a green veil over the trees, flourish, then yellow and fall to earth — as we all must: trees, flowers, animals and people alike. Yes, me too, darling — in time.
She folded her hands and shut tight eyes for the prayers. Does she believe Great-Granddad is in heaven, next to ‘Our Father’ — and those angels this grandmother is so fond of?
If she asks, I shall certainly tell her his spirit is flying free towards the stars — all young again, with infirmity gone. For what is immortality but the joy and devotion passed on between beloved people? That spirit can never die, but carries on through our genes — a soul infusing the lives of Dad’s daughter, grandchildren and great-grandchildren, like the sap in a tree.
What else was life after death for him but the powerful, passionate love of Family?
And that was what Chloe enacted, when she gently stroked my upset daughter — the child wise and gentle in the face of loss, knowing she should look after her mum.
Bel answers readers’ questions on emotional and relationship problems each week. Write to Bel Mooney, Daily Mail, 2 Derry Street, london W8 5TT, or email bel.mooney@dailymail.co.uk. Names are changed to protect identities. Bel reads all letters but regrets she cannot enter into personal correspondence.