Christine’s Service

Dear followers of Dadirridreaming,

Our family has been so moved by your tributes and good wishes, and would like to share some of the service that we held for our beloved wife, mother and nanna on Wednesday July 9.

The morning before the service, I walked with Mitchell and Casey on the beach. As we reached the northern end, we saw a white faced heron fly from shag rock across the water straight towards us. It landed very close and did not take off as we walked back. As we reached the southern end on the way home, the white breasted sea eagle flew over us, really low.

The family greeted people as they arrived and then we carried Christine’s casket into the chapel. I had been able to paint the plain casket over the weekend and cover her with her favourite red lotus. One blue lotus was painted above her head, as a symbol of the divine feminine.

Stuart, Mitchell and Casey spoke.

 

Here is the text of the tributes.

Stuart first, then eldest son Mitchell,then youngest son Casey,friend Lenore, daughter in law Fiona.

Middle son Toby did the slideshow and the music.

As we were carrying in the casket, we played the Gyuto Monks chanting overlaid on the sounds of the dam and the waves.

 

 

My Darling Chris,

I am under your instructions not to blubber.

First of all, a little history.

Christine Boxall had a pretty tough childhood, and spent much of her early years living with her grandparents in Canowindra. This was to help with her severe asthma.

Boarding school near Bathurst followed, then back to Sydney to finish High School. She then trained as an orthoptist, a kind of physiotherapist for eyes.

Our eyes first met across a crowded room at a party in our late teens almost 50 years ago. A few years later when she had returned from a year in the US working as an Orthoptist in Detroit (during the 1967 riots) and hitch hiking around the US by light plane, we met again and that was that.

We eloped to Queensland in our Mini Moke and spent our wedding night on stretchers wet and muddy under a road bridge near Maryborough. Not the most auspicious start.

Our first son, Mitchell was born almost on our first wedding anniversary. Toby and Casey followed at decent intervals as we started and ran an art gallery at Dural. We built our dream house over several years on 5 acres at Arcadia, surrounded by our vege garden and geese, goats, chickens and ducks.

Chris studied early childhood education and we taught our kids how to get bitten by yabbies in our creek, how to avoid funnel webs in the sandpit, and how to make gunpowder. These are the 3 pillars of balanced childhood education.

She loved being a mum and constantly being there for all of us. As the 3 boys grew up, she decided to start university studies at Macquarie, studying psychology. Of course, being the extraordinary person that she is, that adventure culminated in a degree with first class honours and then a doctorate.

Her final thesis for her PhD was on ‘female mating strategies’ and I looked forward to an easy retirement on the proceeds of the pop psychology book titled ‘What women really want’.

But it was time for another life chapter as we moved to our block at Bingi in 2000.

We camped in our barn, cooked and showered outdoors and built our next home.

There was no yoga teacher like the one we had in Sydney, so there was only one thing to do. Christine trained with IYTA to become a yoga teacher.

Soon she was running 4 classes a week in the yoga barn at Bingi, and there was a waiting list. In this period, she saved my life. We built a restaurant in Moruya with Toby’s help and after many failed attempts to find a chef or restaurateur who shared our dreams, Christine booked me into a ‘how to start a restaurant’ course. The stresses of the next 3 years running ‘the river moruya’ would have killed me without her support and being able to let go in her weekly yoga class.

I was one of many whose lives she enriched through yoga.

Next she studied cranio-sacral therapy. The stories of extraordinary healing that people have shared with me, the way she sent out her own earth essences to people often before they knew they needed them, are what is called a legacy.

And the legacy is called love.

That is what she gave, and that is what she has left us all.

The chance to be in the bubble of love that enveloped the two of us in our last 24 hours together. Christine is an intensely spiritual being, but her beliefs didn’t fit into any tidy box. She visited cathedrals but was disillusioned with organised religion.

She believed (along with many physicists) that everything is vibration. She made vibrational essences at special places and usually gave them away.

She is beautiful, gentle and wise- a poet, a yogi, an intuitive healer, a Doctor of Philosophy, a writer and a wonderful photographer of wildlife and the natural world. Her gentle voice was healing by itself.

She collected and germinated seeds from our local trees and started regenerating the red gum forest that once covered dadirri. The red lotus that she planted in our dam was a special favourite of us both.

She loved travelling and adventuring and she was persuasive enough to winkle me out of the paradise we call home.

If you want to know more about who she really was and what she cared about, have a look at her blog- dadirridreaming.

And, if you have strength, have a look at the tributes from her very real friends all over the world. Last Tuesday she told me that her blog now had over 1000 followers.

 

25 years ago she named our property at Bingi, ‘dadirri’.

These are some words by Miriam-Rose Ungunmerr-Bauman (an elder from Arnhem Land) to explain why.

Dadirri.

It is inner, deep listening and quiet, still awareness. Our Aboriginal culture has taught us to be still and to wait. We do not try to hurry things up. We let them follow their natural course—like the seasons. We watch the moon in each of its phases. We wait for the rain to fill our rivers and water the thirsty earth.

 

Dadirri recognises the deep spring that is inside us. We call on it and it calls to us. This is the gift that Australia is thirsting for. It is something like what you call ‘contemplation’.

 

When I experience dadirri, I am made whole again. I can sit on the river bank or walk through the trees; even if someone close to me has passed away, I can find my peace in this silent awareness. There is no need of words. The contemplative way of dadirri spreads over our whole life. It renews us and brings us peace. It makes us feel whole again.”

 

 

We walked on the beach before breakfast last Tuesday and experienced dadirri together.

And we talked about how lucky we are to be in this place with this amazing community.

We went to the farmers market in the afternoon and she was greeted and hugged by so many people.

We talked about how lucky we are to have three wonderful sons and daughters in law, and four grandkids who will one day save the world.

They have all been my rocks for the past week, but I have to especially thank Toby who beat the second ambulance to our place, and helped with the terror of that morning only a week ago. Mitchell and Casey will be speaking soon, and Toby has done the slide show and the music. Thanks guys.

Last Tuesday I said to Christine ‘ I hope you are having the life you want because I am.

I am where I want to be and with the person I want to be with’.

She said ‘me too’.

We didn’t always say those things. We could have just as easily been squabbling over some silly thing- usually about me cooking too much food.

We had 45 extraordinary and beautiful years together.

Who can be sad at that?

 

Mitchell’s tribute

Earth and Air

I want to say a few words about my Mum Christine, who was also a wonderful grandmother – Nanna – to my kids.

Growing up, we lived in a suburb called Arcadia – which says it all, really. As Dad mentioned we fished for yabbies, swam in dams, rode bikes and billycarts and made slingshots and bows. We also drew and painted, made paper planes and batik eggs. With a combination of love, patience and single-minded determination Mum created a rich, vibrant world of open-ended possibility. Mum’s commitment to parenting also reached out into the community. She was a fearless advocate for breastfeeding (before it was mainstream), and a playgroup pioneer.

At school our world expanded: music lessons, bands, sport, and schools many suburbs away. Mum backed us to the hilt, and spent hours every week driving us around. She loved to joke, in a self-deprecating way, that when people met our musical family they would ask her what instrument she played; and she would reply, “I drive the car”. Yet Mum’s creative talents were profound, as you all know. Along with Dad, she created a whole world for us.

In 2001 my son Thomas was born, and Mum became Nanna; then in 2003 my beautiful daughter Scarlet arrived. Mum was there for the birth, welcoming her first granddaughter to the world. I witnessed Mum’s love, patience and devotion in a new way. As my children grew she wove the same magic with them: endless games and jokes, craft and cooking, walks and swims. Scrabble, Monopoly and Rummikub; freshly squeezed juice and Nanna’s rainbow jelly – the pinnacle, for my little kids, of the culinary arts.

Speaking of rainbows, it’s good to see some colour in the crowd today. Mum would have appreciated it. The scarf I’m wearing was a gift from her, found on their adventure in Nepal, and I love it for the energy and strength of the colour. As Mum understood, colour is ethereal – a feeling, an energy – but it’s also concrete and earthly. Colour feels like a link between these domains, between earth and air. Yoga – another of Mum’s passions, and a practice we shared – is the same: both physical and spiritual.

Mum was a true mystic – a seeker and a student of the spiritual life. Yet she never withdrew from the world around her. On the contrary, she approached the world with wonder, joy, and love. Her photography reflects this quiet attentiveness; an endless unfolding of beauty. Like the birds in her photos, Mum moved between the earth and the air, seeking out the profound beauty that we can too easily miss.

And we will miss her badly, and she went so quickly we can barely comprehend it. It will take a while to come to grips with it. But eventually, if we can be still for a moment, be attentive, and get a glimpse of that sacred beauty, we will be honouring her memory.

 

Casey’s Tribute

Mum was a student and a teacher.

She both asked and answered.

She believed in belief.

She was positive about being positive.

 

Mum was always looking, always seeking. Not just something new, but something true, and something that resonated with her.

 

For Mum, there was no paradox in being a member of the Skeptics Assocation, and a creator of vibrational essences. She asked questions, investigated, and found answers that helped her and those around her.

 

Mum loved learning. She was a lifelong student and teacher. Everything that she learned, she used in her life, and always to help those around her. She studied early childhood education, started play groups, and helped us learn about the world. As a result, I have memories of a childhood full of home-made play-doh, painted eggs, and papier mache. And tie-dying, so much tie-dying.

 

In all her studies – psychology, counseling, yoga and more – you can see her quest to understand more about herself, consciousness, and how to be in the world. I’m sure there are many of you here who have benefited from what she learned. And some of you also I know have been taught by her, passing on her wisdom.

 

Mum believed in belief. That the mind and soul had power, and that power could be focused by faith. Mum put her beliefs into practice, whether they be pragmatic or esoteric. Protecting the local bushland. Supporting political causes in pursuit of social justice and the environment. Running her yoga retreats that touched people so deeply. She also threw her faith behind Dad’s missions, and I know that his dreams – which she shared – are all more real because of it.

 

Mum was positive about being positive. She taught me the power of positive thinking, the ability to look on the bright side. Like everyone, she had her fair share of challenges, but she decided that the way through was to take comfort in what is good; to nurture it; to build a ball of happiness to protect you and carry you through the world.

 

Seeing my Mum as a grandma, Nana, let me see what a great mother she had been to us. When talking to her about raising children, she took no credit, and said that children are just who they are: that they are arrows, shot from your bow. Even if that’s right, it’s not the whole story. There’s more than just the energy given to the arrow. There’s the direction. It was Mum who chose the wood, fletched it with feathers. It was her hand on the bowstring, who made sure that we flew far, and true.

 

Christine’s words from the blog read by her friend Lenore

 

This next piece, inspired by a morning walk to the beach, demonstrates her thoughts about nature and life as energies and vibrations. This was as part of a broader discussion of Yoga Nidra, something Christine practiced and taught.

Cool mornings during the week meant dew drops on plants, and that delicious feeling that the seasons are changing. April is heavenly here, when the sea is warm and quiet,  mornings and evenings refreshingly cool, the whole landscape sighing contentedly. This morning the nor-easter was back, whipping up the waves, blowing hot and dry over the bushland. But we know change is coming, we saw it in the dewdrops.

Moisture in the air is just One, yet on these leaves it forms into tiny luminous drops, each one appearing separate from the others. So like us, who imagine we are separate from each other, and from nature, when we are actually all One. Can you change your point of view, even for a moment, to feel the One who is aware through you?

All living things change, coming and going through their cycles, yet the life within them is always the same life, never changing, simply transforming joyfully from one state to the next.  The same life illuminating the artichoke flower also illuminates us, as we are coming and going with the rest of Nature. That life, the Divine, or the Self, never changes, is always perfect, untouched, patiently and tenderly waiting for us to realise there is no need for our suffering, for we are truly that vast spacious luminous joyful awareness in which everything is coming and going.

Sunlight on water,  imagine that light within yourself, light of life shining brightly! Light is energy, information, life itself.

Fill your energy centres with sparkling light, purify and balance them, seeing each chakra spinning clear, symmetrical, bright. Feel the light flowing through your whole energy field so that you are tingling, vibrant, alive.

Draw the pure light into your heart, invite healing in your body and mind, see it flash through you seeking out and restoring any needy areas. Ask the light what it is you need to know now, in this moment, sit quietly and listen to the still small voice of your Self, the Self who knows all. Oh, celebration of light, how grateful we are!

 

 

 

The service finished with Fiona reading this poem, which was also the main content of the service sheet

 

I am the sunlit sea

waves curling and rolling

against the shore

I am the smooth wet sand

yielding to the foot

yet solid and supporting

I am the cool breeze

puffing softly on the cheek

playfully bunting small clouds

I am the effulgent sun

radiant in the morning sky

shafting through sea and air

I am the plover family

four birds shrieking in unison

directions for the flight

I am the adventuring crab

leaving a neat embroidered trail

right to the door of my new hole

I am the welcoming space

making way for all

to find its place with in me.

One of the people who had been outside during the service (we could only fit 200 inside) told me that the whole time that the service was in progress, that the sea eagle had hovered far overhead.

When I arrived home for the wake, a neighbour rushed up to me and said

‘did you see it, did you see it?’

‘When the cars left the chapel the sea eagle swooped down and led us out, and up the road’.

Take Care of your Heart

Tumultuous Flower

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71 thoughts on “Christine’s Service

  1. I weep for the joy and the sorrow and the sharing and the fear of how life will be without her for all of you.
    I know about this: my beloved husband died when he was 68, leaving me alone in the world at 62 and no idea of what to do. So I wrote a book. Christine would have read it one day, I know …
    Meanwhile, the whole family can be assured that she was wonderful and happy and clever, and, most of all, truly appreciated by every one of us, her followers here.

  2. Thank you for sharing this sad moment with us which was also a celebration of her life. She was truly an amazing person and so much more than what I was learning of her on her blog. My condolences to you all again and God bless.

  3. Thank you for sharing this service with us. I thought of you all today … often. That sea eagle! (Christine had a hand in that). The coffin was beautifully done. That had to be incredibly hard to do (emotionally). I will miss Christine’s inspiration, here. I always delighted to see a new post from her. Be gentle with yourself.

  4. It was a true honor to share some time (and photographs) with Christine! She was truly an insightful and caring person; that I understand, even though I am from the United States and never met her personally! Now, she is in her Dadirri, and silence is golden. What is golden is eternal and always of that pulsating spring!

  5. Thank you for sharing this sad, but also wonderful celebration of Christine’s life. On Tuesday (your Wednesday), when I was walking on the beach and in the nature reserve close by, taking pictures of birds for my blog post, she came to my mind very strongly. In the most beautiful way. I send you warm thoughts of strength and love. Helen (Tiny)

  6. Thank you, thank you, beloved family of Christine for sharing her beautiful service. Her words, your words, the flowers, the birds, all add beauty to her lovely life.

  7. I am richer for having known Christine, and of you Stuart and your family, through Christine’s dadirridreaming. My thoughts have been with you all week, and were again on Wednesday. Thank you for sharing.

  8. I should not be surprised that dear Christine’s family would be so generous as to share such a large piece of her service with us. We of the 1,000 blog followers really did care for her–she gave each one who engaged such personal attention. My mind has returned to the news of last Tuesday so often throughout this week and it touches me deeply to have this moment to reflect upon her life with new eyes. You’ve provided an even bigger picture of her expansive heart, and I am so impressed by the many ways she touched–and continues to touch, people all over the world. Every time I enjoy the beauty of nature and in particular see the lotus blossoms in my very modest pond, I know I will think of her with fond remembrance. We talked from time to time about those flowers! What a beautiful service filled with love and tenderness. I look forward to the slide show and again, thank you for including us. Namaste. ox

  9. The sea eagle, her beloved family, her friends, and us, her cyber mates – we all were gathered about her that day, drawn by her spirit, from which we all absorbed something special. Thank you Stuart, Boys … it has been a privilege to have shared this farewell with you all – a most special family.

  10. Thank you Stuart for sharing this beautiful service with us, I know it was exactly as Christine would want. You and your children are so brave and generous with this gift, just as she herself would be. Christine visited me at 2.30 am on Wednesday, and many times since, I believe to say goodbye. I will always carry her with me as will many, many others, we are blessed to have been touched by her gentle soul.
    I am still struggling to believe what’s happened, determined to finish with the tears and only smile at the memories I have of being in her company.
    Bless you.

  11. Thank you for sharing so much of yourselves, and of Christine. That’s what life is all about- the sharing- isn’t it?
    I had to go away and make coffee and put the washing on- practical things, before I could come back and add my thoughts. The void in your lives is unspeakable, especially for those adored grandchildren. But for you, Stuart, and your grown up family, she will always be there in your hearts. And in ours. God bless!

  12. Thank you for sharing these very special moments with Christine’s blogging community. I had tears in my eyes as I read your beautiful words about your precious time together. Christine was a very special person and I am grateful to have known her through her blog, and through her generous spirit I have come to know her family.

  13. Dear Stuart,
    Thank you for sharing the beautiful service moment with us, and thank you so much for including us. I believe Christine will continue to guide us like the sea eagle… and inspire us like the white faced heron fly from shag rock. Love, Amy

  14. What a privilege to be present with you as you share these tributes to our dear member of the blogging community whom we miss terribly.
    I especially like reading Christine’s words about light and life from the blog that Lenore read and will keep them in my heart and mind.
    I cannot imagine the hole in all your lives. The lotus on the casket are so beautiful, like Christine.
    I went back and found more than seven pages of comments that Christine wrote to me on my blog since 2011. I am going to print them out, reread them and be encouraged because every single one is a note of positivity, encouragement, appreciation for beauty, life and filled with love. Thinking of you and your family and all those who loved Christine.

  15. Dear Stuart and Christine’s family, thank you so much for sharing these very special and precious photos here. The casket is beyond beautiful; a true labour of love. You have been very much on my mind since I read the news of Christine’s passing. I wish you all strength and courage to bear your extreme loss. Hugs from Sylvia.

  16. thank you Christine’s family for including us in this very moving funeral and final farewell- your words were almost too painful to read but now I know she was so much more than even the sensitive, clever, kind, blogging friend I was familiar with. May she rest in the peace of Dadirri

  17. Many thanks to you and yours for sharing this day with us. You have opened my eyes to the depth of the experiences that still await me in Christine’s blog, for I have not looked beyond the last few months of wonderful words and photos and kind comments. I was not surprised to learn she experienced the One. ❤

  18. I am so sorry for your loss. (These words seem so trite…but truer words escape me.) I have never met Christine in person, only followed her blog. Yet I love her. Over the past 2-3 years, I have delighted in her posts. Her photos, her words, the connections she made to the words and experiences of others,…all moved me. She was so open to the Divine in all its myriad appearances, and I so appreciate that she shared this with me, via her posts. I will truly miss her. (I hope her blog remains up for a long time…I find myself revisiting her pages, soaking in her reflections.) I will hold all of you in my heart.

  19. Life and death and all that goes between still confuses me. All that I do know is that I seek…answers. Perhaps that [along with Christine’s way of connecting me with home] is why I felt as if her hand had reached across the water to grace mine with her gift of curiosity. This tribute to her is one I feel she will be dancing with joy at. It saddens me that such a soul would be taken from family and friends so suddenly. Since Christine’s passing I have pondered life and death. I have wondered why it is that so many of our brightest lights leave us so early. Perhaps they burn so brightly that their light and strength can not be sustained. Somehow I feel that Christine is like the stars that we still see light years after they have left us. Thank you for including us in your tribute, for allowing us to take part in your journey…for giving us a way to say goodbye.

  20. Dear Stuart, thank you so much for sharing with us what must be such a sad time. I lost my sister in January this year and am still in shock as to how and why it had to happen to her. Your losing of Christine has brought it so strongly back into my mind again. I would like to think that Christine is free and part of the ‘whole’, part of the energy that makes up everything in nature, and all the things she loved. I’m so glad I met her, even if only by way of our blogging. Love to you all.

  21. I was brought to this post anew by a visit to Pommepal (Pauline)’s blog and I don’t know if the video was present when I first read this. I have just enjoyed a wonderful 7 minutes 45 of Christine and I would like to thank Toby, and send hugs to Stuart. 🙂

    • Toby has only recently added the slide show.
      Thank you for the hugs.
      I go out into the busy world, and come home to silence. Sometimes it is good, other times difficult.

      • I wish it could be different, Stuart!
        Soon I will be in Paris for our Silver Wedding. I’m really excited to be making this trip, but a little part of me knows that I will be walking in Christine’s footsteps. I wish I could find some comfort for you.

      • Dearest Stuart!! I have found you, you are mullimburra? My consciousness is deeply aware…..I have loved you through Christine’s sharings of your lives; To know you were painting always added joy to my immediate moment. There is a strong presence of oneness here…..on my part, it is so unique to experience such deep grief within when my family and friends have no clue to the deep impact of one so geographically far away and yet so deep within. Peace and love, as Souljourner at-Large I am always holding you in my heart.

        • yes napkinwriter, perhaps one day I will start putting something on my blog, but don’t hold your breath.
          If you would like to email me it’s stuartwhitelaw at gmail dot com.

  22. Restlessjo mentioned that the video was now up…Toby what a beautiful tribute to your Mum. You did her proud. Please tell Stuart that my thoughts are still with him and with all of you. And thank you for allowing us those wonderful 7 minutes and 45 seconds of Christine. Thank you.

  23. “Learning how to rest in openhearted basic goodness is a life-long process.” Pema Chodran. My love and compassion is with you Stuart and family. I am in shock that dear Christine has passed. We have been the best of companions, sharing our thoughts, feelings and experiences via our blogs. I am totally enriched knowing Christine, and Australia through Christine; My intention mandala included a picture of Christine on it and the vision of a visit one day. Christine will have to teach me how this is not loss.

      • I think my comment to you Stuart, disappeared? I said something about how happy I am to find you, as mullimburra. How you are carried in my heart and how I grieve deeply for Christine, one so far away, yet so deep within my heart. I have loved you through Christine’s sharings of your lives together. It always added joy to my moment when I knew you were painting. Let’s see if this comment sticks. Other than futile words, I hold a sacred, sound silence for you.

  24. I waited long and deep to see if any words to express my sorrow at your loss would form. None that were fitting rose to the surface. I must thank you for sharing the moving images and written testimonies from the service. Despite my own family issues your loss has been prominent in my thoughts. I shall miss Christine’s carefully chosen comments and the warmth that was clearly present behind them. I hope you will all find peace and solace over the months and years to come.

  25. Christine visited me tonight! Cleaning my creativity room to ready it for a Reiki and SoulCollage® client’s visit tomorrow, I found my two essence bottles I received from Christine (Ancestor Peace and Space). I did not know where they were. There is not much left. Christine loved hearing how each one positively impacted my life for good and we talked of them a few times. I will blog stories anew on them to let you in on it too, Stuart. Are there any left for sale that Christine formed? I would be interested in purchasing some and I’ll give you mailing address, you give me cost?:

    • Hi Napkinwriter,
      I will get to the store of essences sometime. I am not sure what is there already made up.
      The mother essences are all there but she was the one who knew how to make the dose bottles.
      Can you send me an email in a few weeks to remind me?
      stuartwhitelaw ( at) gmail dot com.

      • Yes, Stuart, I replied on my gmail to this. Whenever it is something in your day you feel you may do…..there is no time, weeks or months is ok. You and your family are lifted up in my thoughts and prayers. I have started rereading the Yoga Nidra book Christine recommended to me. Gives me someplace to put my mind and feelings.

  26. Thank you for sharing these moments, Stuart, and also to Toby for the beautiful slideshow. Some of the later images I remember from her blog, including the unexpected selfie while underwater. what a delightful moment that was. my heartfelt condolences to you and your family.
    Chris

  27. Hello again, Stuart.
    Time slips past. I walked my ‘walk for Christine’ again this morning, after t’ai chi, just as I did the morning I first read your post. The season is moving on and everything looks different. I took a few more photos and thought of you both, and thought that I would return here to see how you are doing?
    Hugs, my friend. 🙂

    • Thanks for returning Jo.
      Yes, time is slipping past. As it happens, yesterday marked 49 days since Christine died. This is an important day in the Buddhist tradition that she followed for a time. It marks the time when the soul leaves the earthly realm and enters another. Maybe reincarnation, maybe somewhere else- another dimension?
      A friend who led the small group that included Christine suggested that she and I do a ceremony by the banks of the Moruya river. She sang the vajrayana chant while we sat on the granite rocks in the afternoon sun, watched by two pelicans. I found it incredibly moving.
      I returned home and wrote her name on a piece of art paper, and took it to the beach.
      As the sun set I sat on a small spur of rock with the waves crashing around me and burnt the piece of paper.
      It was a big day.
      So, your walk was very timely, and shows your connection.
      All is the same here- yet very different. We have just had big rains that overflowed the dams and busted the lagoon out to sea. The kangaroos and wallabies are enjoying some new grass.
      Spring is approaching.
      New life, new beginnings.

  28. Dear Stuart,
    Even though I had an unusual for me day of appointments yesterday, Christine was also with me in a constant way yesterday, for what reason I knew not. So your note is especially touching. I keep reading my Yoga Nidra book, and processing some of it in reference to this time now of Christine being not present and yet present. I share my quiet vibrations of love and Reiki with you today, Stuart.
    Like you say, so much the same, yet not the same.

  29. mia cara, dolce Cristina, sono di ritorno da un lungo viaggio delle vacanze e il promo pensiero, ritornando sul web è stato quello di passare a saluatrti, ora, so che da lassù le mie parole di affetto ti arrivano chiare, senza bisogno di tradurle dall’italiano, come facevo sempre, perché col cuore te le trasmetto e da lassù in mezzo agli angeli mi ascolti.Mi ha molto commosso l’omaggio dei tuoi cari e tutto l’amore che traspariva da ogni loro gesto, questo amore ti accompagnerà sempre e tu sarai sempre con loro.
    Grazie per il tempo sereno che abbiamo condiviso, tornerò a salutarti nei post che non ho avuto modo di conoscere, e mi sembrerà ancora di esserti vicina.
    ti voglio bene
    AnnaLisa

  30. I slip back to your blog sometimes to see if you are posting, but I don’t suspect you have the heart for it, Stuart. Christine often shared your drawings and I hope you are still finding comfort in artwork, and in your loving family. Meg brought me here again today, because I saw Toby’s ‘head’ on her blog. Hugs to you all 🙂

    • Dear Annalisa,
      Thank you for your beautiful thoughts. It is 28 months since she left and it is getting a bit easier. I was with a buddhist friend yesterday, and she thinks that it is better to let them go, and not wanting them to still be here. As you say, love to you wherever you are.
      And love to you too Annalisa, wherever you are
      Stuart

      • Stuart carissimo,
        non mi aspettavo risposte e sono rimasta sorpresa e commossa! Vi ringrazio moltissimo delle troppo gentili parole! Volevo dire il mio pensiero riguardo alle parole del vostro amico buddhista ( di questa religione condivido moltissimo! )ma in questo caso la religione cristiano-cattolica cui appartengo ha pensieri diversi sulla presenza delle persone care che possono restare anoi vicine, non per essere da noi trattenute, ma sono loro stesse con il loro anore a volerlo fare, e forse non ci abbandoneranno mai nel nostro percorso vitale, sono gli Angeli, i nostri Angeli, non so bene se esistano o cosa siano, li immagino forme di lice create dal nostro amore e da loro sempre riceviamo conforto e speranza.Devo anche dire che proprio nei giorni in cui è mancata la cara Crhistine, stavo preparando un post proprio sugli Angeli nell’Arte e nel pensiero teologico, che a lei ho dedicato dopo aver saputo la tremenda notizia, Se questo può farvi piacere includo il link, scusandomi se mi sono troppo dilungata.Auguro le più belle cose per voi e la vostra meravigliosa famiglia
        Annalisa
        https://ventisqueras.wordpress.com/2014/07/03/angeli-2-omaggio-allamica-christine/

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