Epiphany at Salisbury

Readers of my other blog will know that this week has also been peppered with visitors from home - always something of a double-edged sword, because invariably we (okay, 'I') end up talking abot Mikko, and often I end up in uncontrollable tears and feelign like a goose the next day. So I was wary of that. Especially this week, of all weeks.

As part of our adventures, after visiting stonehenge I took Rod and Lissy to Salisbury cathedral, to see the Magna Carta (the political geek in me stands in awe of how much this document shaped England for centuries to come, and just how much we owe William Marshall and is peers, for their contribution to democracy. But I digress).

I will always remember Mikko's delight at discovering the born traveller - the "citizen of the world" - within me. I know now for myself how exciting it is, showing people around and seeing their faces light up, knowing that I looked exactly the same when I first saw the same things. And I understand that look he used to give me, because now I 'pass it forward' too.

Anyway, I had a moment of a very different sort in Salisbury Cathedral.

Despite being 'no longer particularly christian', Mikko always used to light candles for people in cathedrals - all over europe, in memory.

So I light one for him - wherever I go. So I'm headed up to the chapel behind the altar, usually 'the lady chapel', trying to make sure Rod neither sees nor hears me crying. Suddenly I realise that the particular shriney thing before me is actually a memorial for prisoners of conscience... So of course that got me thinking about all discussions we all used to have about human rights and giving something back.

It reminded me that all the Mandelas and Bettancourts and other people who aren't allowed to say what they think have, at times, had to rely on nothing more than love and warm memories to get through much tougher times than anything I have to face. And that helped. A lot. So now I don't feel nearly so lonely this week.