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[personal profile] mrstotten
I have a whole load of advents to come, trust me they are coming :) In the meantime, have this. My entry for [livejournal.com profile] therealljidol Week 6 - Not of this world. for anyone who commented on my last entry, I will be replying to comments this weekend. Being stranded up north and then in my mothers has taken it's toll the last two weeks, but I do appreciate every single comment and kind word.



My husband’s aunt loves photographs, any and all types. Whether they are birthday, Christmas, or holiday pictures as soon as you see her after a main event, she demands to see them.

Once in her possession she sits with them, flicking through them so fast you don’t even have to worry about the oily marks her fingers will leave because she never lingers long enough on one particular picture to mark it. That is until about halfway through the pack she shouts “There it is,” like her own personal Eureka and then she is thrusting the picture at your face, fingers definitely leaving marks this time, which is vaguely annoying as it is that one you really like with your son smiling, a real smile, not the fake ‘let’s say cheese’ smiles you sometimes get, but one of those moments you have managed to capture where he is truly delighted with the world he lives in.

You may wonder why she is so excited, and may think it is because she also loves that look of unadulterated pleasure on my sons face, but no. For her my son may as well not even be in the picture. No she is pointing the small shiny orb like blur on the top left of the picture, the orb for anyone not familiar with the theory is supposed to represent the spirit of the loved ones that we have lost. They are apparently a physical manifestation of the spirits around us. Now the question is do I believe this?

Well on one hand no, I really don’t believe that every orb in every picture is a spirit, if I would I’d be freaked out to hell because there are hundreds of them in the pictures I have taken over the years. Yes I will admit that I found it slightly freaky that on the pictures from the ancient Egyptian room in the Vatican Museum, there are no less than seven floating orbs (the most I’ve ever seen in one picture) but I also believe a lot in the dust particle theory that states that they are just dust, clouding the lens.

But on the other hand, I do truly believe that those we have loved, never truly leave us. When my son was two years old, he pointed at a picture of my husband’s grandmother, someone who died seven years before even I had met my husband and said loudly and clearly Nan, this was not just a reference to a grandmother, but my husband’s grandmothers name, or at least the name her family and friends knew her as, before this we had never mentioned Nan to him and when asked how he knew her, he simply said ‘she told me’. There have also been times when I have felt the weight of the world on my shoulders. Nights when I have wondered how I was going to wake up the next morning before a sudden sense of peace or revitalisation rushes through me and I feel better. In my heart I truly believe that this is the energy of those that have loved me, pushing me on those days where I just need a little push.

My mother always loved the song The Living years by Mike and the Mechanics, and my own favourite part was always.

I wasn’t there that morning, when my father passed away, I didn’t get to tell him, all the things I had to say. I think I caught his spirit later that same year, I’m sure I heard his echoes in my babies newborn tears.


To me this sums up everything I believe about those we have loved and lost. They aren’t just spectral balls to be found in a picture by the lucky snap of the camera. They are with us, surrounding us always with love and support; they are that little voice in your head that guides you to do something nice. The small respite of peace during a busy day. The beautiful sunset that makes you wish your brain had a built in camera. They are in every thought deed and word that makes up your life and they can be found in the bright smile from your mother, the loud laughter of your sister, the sweet innocence of your child and sometimes even in the small kindnesses of strangers.

Although they are not truly part of this world, in some ways are more firmly entrenched in it than we are, and they wait with us, lovingly, patiently, until it is our own time to come home.

You think the dead we loved ever truly leave us? You think that we don’t recall them more clearly than ever in times of great trouble? Your father is alive in you, Harry, and shows himself plainly when you have need of him. – Albus Dumbledore

This has been my entry for [livejournal.com profile] therealljidol commwnts are loved and if you would like to vote for me please click HERE

January 2019

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