No... it wasn't murder !
It was a metaphorical death, followed by a rebirth.
(pic borrowed with apologies)
When I emigrated, I decided I'd play a game as my coping mechanism. It helped me enormously. I'd lost two of my best friends to cancer over the years in SA; dear Rose and then darling Mollerita.
My husband had lost a best friend, Phil, from a stroke and we had both lost various friends and colleagues from illness or accidental death. And, yes, some folk we knew had moved to the after life by more brutal means.
It was easy for me to pretend that I had died and that in moving from Africa, I was going to an after life. I didn't share my 'game' with anyone. They'd have thought I was well on the way to being deranged and would have run after me with a butterfly net to capture me and forcibly strap me into a white jacket.
My game was my own personal game. At times when I was shocked, numb, lost (yes, even with a GPS), confused, scared, sad or mad, I'd do the rebirth game.
In my game it's like Alice
stepping through the looking glass.
I enter a passageway, and on the other side I find >>>>>
>>>> a wondrous place with hills, trees, flowers, water, birds and beauty, and I say out loud to myself (when no one is in earshot) ' Gosh, they have trees here too...'
And that was the way I coped when I was all alone and far far away from my family, my roots, my life. This was my teeny new after -life island and I was going to rejoice and celebrate my after- life come hell or high water !
Not to sound cliched,
I found metaphorical
Silver linings a plenty !
tip: if lonely take a camera along for company. It captures the evanescent beauty of that blip in the moment of time which envelops one. It permits one the opportunity to share the pics with one's loved ones back home via email, and reminds one to be grateful for the opportunity to experience a new chapter, beauty combined with character-building challenges...
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