Oct 10, 2011
We’re all entitled to our own reaction.
To catastrophe, to unexpected joy, to death.
When people get very involved in the death of someone they didn’t know, I am slightly puzzled. Of course it is their right. But all behaviours meet a need. And I’m a little baffled as to what need is actually being met in these cases.
Anyway, no sermon. Do what meets your needs, and respect that others may meet theirs by not feeling any urge to join you. And that’s fine too.
A small anecdote:
A dozen or so years ago, a close relative by marriage was hit by a speeding police car in Croydon town centre. She died a day or so later from her severe head injuries. A tall, beautiful girl, 17, with her place at Cambridge secured. Devastating.
We drove past the scene a couple of days after it happened (I’m not sure if it was by chance, or that sort of “by chance” that is actually quite intentional.)
A few tragic bundles of flowers were taped to the lamp post across the road from the library. Small, bedraggled cards from schoolfriends. Very moving.
A few days later, we passed by again. This time, a mountain of flowers were there. We never realised she was so popular. I stopped and got out to look at the first one.
“Dear Diana, you will forever be in our hearts”.
And so it went on, right down the pile.
It was early September, 1997. The good people of Croydon had clearly been struggling to know where the “official” flower-laying place was, until this little scattering of children’s tributes appeared.
Alice gave them that, at least.