Grief, reiki and a flower-strewn path

Al was the first true love of my life. With him, I had found total contentment and our closeness only deepened over the years. I was already 44 when we found each other and I imagined that we would grow old together. He wasn’t meant to die after just 12 years. How could I now survive alone? How could I live with the agonising memories of failed medical interventions, his suffering and rapid decline in the previous few weeks, at home and in a hospital ward? A decline that had left me helpless, that I could do nothing to halt.

I felt numb, unreal, torn between agony and the memory of that bliss as he slipped away, the sense of gratitude for the joy and love that we’d shared.

The evening after his death, the first day of June, 2007, my dear friend and support, Patrizia, drove over to give me reiki. As I lay on the sofa and she channelled healing energy into my shattered soul, I saw the terror and despair of the immediate past like a black tunnel behind me and heard the simple message, ‘Don’t look back’. Ahead of me was a path lined on each side by rich, colourful flowers. As I walked along it, more flowers kept appearing before every step, like an offering of hope, a reassurance that my future would be nurtured.