Mummy always gives us hugs and cuddles. She does everything for us. But sometimes Mummy hugs me because she needs one. I am not able to physically hug her, but I am there for her to hold, to comfort her.We went to a “Celebrate Craig Coman” – someone important in Mummy’s life and someone I have met. There were its of people there talking about this special person.
When it was Mummy’s turn to write the condolence book, I knew she was upset.And stayed by her side. I’m here, Mummy. Then she lifted me up and hugged me really tight. I think she used me as a shield against the sadness that was sweeping through the room as people shared stories about this lovely man.He touched many people’s lives. And last year when he wrote to Mummy for her birthday, he asked about our blog. He nerve forgets things about people. He wanted the url so he could read it. I hope Craig did because he would have seen how Mummy has changed – since she first met him.
May’s comment: We celebrated Craig Coman today – an osteopath, a life coach extraordinaire, whom I met at Chelsea Natural Health. Craig passed away at the end of December last year, at age 51 of an inoperable brain tumour. It’s been a little while now, so thought it was going to be easy but it was still very, very sad. He helped to change so many lives, how he was always there, a go-to person and equally annoying because he wouldn’t give us answers on how to live our lives. He made us find the answers ourselves. And we loved him for doing just that.
Darcy had been with me to our last few sessions before he left to return to Australia/New Zealand. We kept in touch via Skype. But when he became ill, he didn’t want anyone to know. So when his colleagues announced His passing in Janaury, it came as shock. I thought it was a prank. How can someone who is so full of positive vibe, who only helped others be struck down at so young an age. Death is not discerning.
At the “celebration” of Craig’s life, I was particularly glad my little furry friend was there. She was there for me to hold on tight when it just seemed too unbearably sad.
Miss you, Craig. Are you really gone?