Day 136 - Wednesday's child

 

‘Wednesday’s child is full of woe’.

I was born on a Wednesday. My brother on a Sunday.

Thanks superstition… always blessing us?

I heard an owl again at my brother’s grave. It was daytime but that didn’t stop the owl.

I didn't say the coronation oath. I was listening to it on the radio on the journey down to the cemetery and remained stubbornly silent, thinking how hard it was to find a radio station without news every hour.

The rest of the country seemed to be celebrating again. And once again I felt like crap. And so deeply tired. A kind of tired which seems to saturate and chill my soul, like moss in a cold rain.

Perhaps I would have felt better if I had said the oath?

At the grave I didn't say anything dramatic. I listened.

In the distance, at the cemetery, an owl hooted again. I think it is something to do with those who are grieving being more open to signs, dreams and suchlike. Plus, there is that thing where people listen less to you when you are grieving, so who is going to believe you anyway? It’s just the grief talking, after all. Best ignored.

Like the way people are less inclined to believe the word of children.

This week I also saw two rainbows, at different ends of the sky. It was raining and a little sunny around dusk, and the rainbows were to the Southeast and Northwest. Hopefully a sign of encouragement, like all signs should be. Or that the Almighty really doesn’t have a problem with the LGBT+ community after all, despite the prejudice of some of the Church. We need more LGBT+ believers.

I thought the coronation was muted. I watched it on catchup - but feeling as lousy as I do as I write now. As I say, I think the whole thing made believers look bad – as if we are all part of the establishment. Some of us cannot win.

I will recognise Charles as a king now. And Camilla as a queen.

But nothing is resolved. Grieving people should not be put together. They heap us all together so that everyone feels bad in a group. It is convenient for society.

The Tories got in again where I live. It made me feel a little less kind towards my neighbours. Who are these people who vote Tory? They are rarely proud of it, as if knowing that it is selfish.

So, the story of the country rumbles on and all of our stories rumble on with it. Stories which could use some genuinely good news. And the Almighty rumbles on too. Unchanging. His face like thunder. Like that of an archbishop crowning a king.

‘Wednesday’s child is full of woe’.