It's funny how some people seem to think that the Ben-shaped-hole would have just about closed over by now; but others are aware of the time things take and of the fact that those sort of holes never close over. If you haven't experienced such things yourself, do be slow to assume that healing is quick or ever complete.

This week a friend who we rarely see sent this encouraging note:

Dear Chris and Lindy,

Thanks so much for honouring your 'Ben shaped hole' with such great posts on the blog.  It is great that you don't have to avoid mentioning him in case 'some one will be sad'.  Four years is just a blink of an eyelid and after you blink it is not surprising to suddenly see something that reminds you of him, yet again, and again...  and again....!  

I love the vibrant photo you recently put on the blog.  "Are we there yet?"on his Tee shirt is a poignant reminder of the mixture of joy and sadness that elicits.   We know he is there, even though we would love him to be here.  May he continue to inspire others to live well, with such enthusiasm and zest for life and for our Lord.

With love and hope.

Happy Christmas. 

Forget the bottles: let's do this live!

Irrepressible!

Out of focus but not out of mind.

Four years today...

 

The two clocks

I said in an earlier post that it was unbelievable to think that it was four years ago that Ben was in his last week of life. In response, Jill wrote,

Yep four years is illogical – totally mad actually. It still feels like there has been a 'wrinkle in time’ - that there is Ben going home yesterday and then there is life that has rushed onwards –seems like there are two clocks/calendars in my world…

And it seems like that to us too. Life will always stand still for us in one sense—we want to loiter in the time when Ben was alive and well, but time is more insistent in pushing us forward to happy, hopeful places in the present and the future. How we wish that they could include a living laughing Ben.

Regardless of not being here bodily, it is funny the way we ‘see’ Ben occasionally. I was driving behind a very big, shiny, new-looking black Navarra ute the other day and as the traffic was moving fairly briskly I didn’t pay it much attention. When I had to stop behind it at a red light I had time to notice its number plate; personalised, bold white letters on a deep blue background, it simply read:

 CSB.

Lindy