Safe Harbour

Harbour

Dear Reader,

I did write this last week but in case you have forgotten the pictures here of harbours are to do with the poem at the bottom of the page.

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Last week my very dearest and oldest friend died and, because of Covid, there was a Memorial celebration for her on Zoom.  I barely knew what Zoom meant and was very sceptical about how it would be.  But, my friends, it was wonderful.  

Mark, her son, and Lulu her daughter had written to as many of her friends they knew of, and to members of the family to assemble on Saturday at 1 o'clock on Zoom.  To do this they sent us a way of connecting with Zoom just by pressing a button.  For oldies this was perfect.  And, hey presto, there I could see all the old friends that I knew and lots of family members.  Mark said a few timely words about his Mum and showed us lots of photographs of Jessica from early childhood right up to today.  She was always a beautiful woman, and looked marvellous in all the photographs.

Her brother read that moving piece from 1 Corinthians, verse 13 that defines love from the Bible, and a couple of her favourite songs were played whilst Lulu read one of her favourite poems.  Then it was the turn of any friend who might liked to have shared a memory for us all to enjoy.  

I thought an interesting memory I had to share was when I lived with Jessica in 1959.  She was at that time working for MI5 spying on the Russians in London.  I didn't really know what she did since she wasn't allowed to divulge her job in any way, but I did know that she had to seem invisible .  She bought an indiscriminate beige mac, sensible shoes and brown stockings, wore no makeup and sometimes a bobble hat. I hardly knew her.  She came and went at all hours, and many years alter she told me that she had had to sit watching the Russian Embassy from a hotel room opposite, all night.

I think some modern technology is amazing, I am so so glad I was able to be there, to say goodbye is such a wonderful way, to such a wonderful friend.

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Safe Harbour

Old love settles for a quiet harbour,
a place of quiet embracing
rocked in a gentle sea.

Young love is daring, dangerous,
rich in its fullness,
sticky in substance, ripe with seed.

Old love has a slower pace,
enriched with years of touch.
No need to preen and strut the hour.

The rib cage joins,
the bone becomes one bone,
the breath one breath.
Calms waters still seduce.

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With very best wishes, Patricia

Top photograph taken by Kaye Leggett.