At last,

my sister has her headstone.  She commenced her eternal slumber in the peaceful, soft-cradling dark soil of Stoneleigh Churchyard, more than two long years & many months, past; having tragically departed her much-loved life on September 16th, 2006. 

And it has taken this long, to find the perfect piece of soft-hewn slate from a Cornish quarry; & to have it carefully carved into a fitting memorial to her cherished memory.  

 It’s a simple stone.

It reads, thus: 

Sacred to the memory

of

Melissa Anne Bellamy

 Born 7-1-1964

Died 16-9-2006

 

To the left of the inscription is a simple carving of an angel holding a healing herb, in the style of William Morris (her favourite artist). 

In fact Melissa’s name (which literally means ‘Honey Bee’ in ancient Greek) is the alternative epithet of the beautiful Lemon Balm plant – Melissa officinalis - which is a wonderfully antibacterial, mosquito-repelling herb with a sweet, lemon scent, for the relief of both stress (being a mild sedative) - & flatulence, apparently!

But the rather sadly poignant point (apart from the length of time it’s taken to mark her lonely grave) is that despite their wishes, my sister is not mentioned as the “beloved daughter of her mother & father”, as my parents had hoped & requested.  However as her partner insisted on commissioning & erecting the headstone, being her legal next-of-kin, he (who has also sadly chosen to remain eternally silent to her ’sacred memory’, on the stone) had the final authority over the inscription.

As I am the ever-loving but all-too-often eternally (guiltily) absent remaining daughter, I painfully comprehend that my poor parents are politely but quietly devastated by this lack of personal acknowledgement at my sister’s final resting place.  After all; as so many would-be mothers (my sister, included) struggle – apparently fruitlessly - for so many years, the blessing of a successful pregnancy is the ultimate, dared-dreamed-of, absolute joy.  So to then lose that same child before shuffling off this mortal coil oneself, is frankly incomprehensible….

Melissa’s birth was a similarly sought-after, struggled-for, so-very-special occasion.  Thus her subsequent, devastating diagnosis of Type One Diabetes at the tender age of four (when I was just a squalling, swaddling, ignorant little infant) only brought this close-knit, fearful family even closer together.

And now, we are all tragically torn asunder: not just all-too-soon in Life; but even - so very sadly - by the simple power of the unwritten word.

As soon as Tony & I can afford to do so we will ourselves commission in Melissa’s memory a lovely, slate-hewn Celtic monument taken from the texts which most enthused her; here on the ffarm she loved.  Mum & Dad can choose their own heartfelt words for the inscription.  You see, Lissa was a truly unique, inspirational individual: a lovely lady; a soulmate sister; & a warm, unforgettable friend.  So when it comes to the day that we can do this for her – & for our family – assuredly, we will.

Not only this.  I’m quietly, but dedicatedy, using every second of whatever rare spare time I possess to research an alternative to the deadly-seductive sweetness, of pure sugar so that we can improve our recipes for our many gelato-loving but sadly Diabetic friends & relatives….with the first flavour to be launched (& all proceeds to Diabetes UK, of course) being a lovely, light, refreshing Lemon Balm Gelato in honour of the smile of my sister’s summerlike radiance.  And what more fitting name – what better tribute – than, purely, Melissa…?  

I want to capture that beautiful spirit: alive in every zesty, refreshing mouthful; her laughter, on our lips…..

Cysgu yn dawel, o chwaer, o gariad…. 

She'd have loved this.

 Listen carefully:  the effervescent, ever-present spirit of Melissa, cannot fail to fill you with wistful joy…..

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=YpApgfdDqZA&feature=related

…..Nicola Benedetti’s exquisitely soulful interpretation, in music & landscapes, of Ralph Vaughan Williams’ utterly beautiful “The Lark Ascending”.  Incidentally if you find (as I frustratingly have) this link doesn’t always work, when you get into YouTube type in “Nicola Benedetti The Lark”, look for the 04:42 version; & prepare to be transfixed….

P.S.  Melissa always had such a cheeky sense of humour….which certainly showed through as I tapped out this tribute.  Of which, more….

I recently wrote, reflectively, to a dear friend in Devon who sadly lost her mother during the unforgiving chill of these soulless Winter days.  Through her own personal grief she nevertheless arranged for her Mum the most perfect, evocative funeral; & shared this poignant day with us.  Simple, profound beauty; exquisitely, dignified detail; & a touchingly gentle, yet final, farewell….which caused so many of us weep heartfelt tears (RIP, Morna).  

My friend in turn says she was so very touched by my own words about my memories of Melissa; & couldn’t help but chuckle about how she typically enjoyed the “last laugh” when the CD playing Vaughan Williams’ fittingly tremulous tribute, had extraordinarily skipped like a merry schoolgirl.

And tonight, ’twas ever thus….for as my tired fingures typed the words, “Lark Ascending” (which of course I checked, as I went along) literally, a split second prior to publication, they again caught my eye; & somehow, the letters had painstakingly rearranged themselves to read, “The Lark Arse-Ending“.  William Morris Angel or not; Otherworld or nay; even the Wild Road, perhaps….rest assured my wickedly humorous sister Melissa is certainly enjoying a good old chuckle at our expense, whatever & wherever.

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