A new perspective

I have had a number of sessions with a counsellor.  She rarely speaks.  She just sits and listens, only occasionally asking pointed questions.  I spend the time recounting tales of how I felt when my father died, how I missed his funeral, when I visited his grave.  I expect I will always feel guilty for not being there.

However, since my father in law has died, I have a new enthusiasm for life: I have my husband and his family to look after.  I have a future to focus on – a living family that need me.  I told my counsellor that I found it odd that with the death of one good man, I could drop into despair while with the death of another good man, I remembered my strength.   My husband doesn’t need my strength – he just needs me to be there for him.   Believe me, I am.

I’ve discovered, quite by accident, a metaphor.  One of the few things I’ve enjoyed all along is taking photographs.  I like seeing things from new perspectives and showing my perspective to anyone who would like to see.  I try new angles.  I look at colours.

Foxy

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