I’m praying to you but I don’t know who you are. My grandparents used to pray to God, but now lots of people say there is no such person and anyone who’s religious is just imagining it. And other people say there is, but not the one that Christians call God, the one who had a son called Jesus. They have other names for their god. Whatever, this is what’s on my mind this week.
Not too bad a week on the international horrible things front. New horrible things, anyway. There is always something in the news that you don’t want to see or hear but you do anyway. I suppose that’s how they make sure people are watching their TV news programmes and looking at their websites.
The news people must know something that I don’t. If I was running the BBC or CNN I would be trying to find nice things to tell the world about.
So, the plane crash in Egypt probably was a bomb like everyone thought. At least the victims’ bodies have been flown home now and the families can bury them and get on with their lives. That’s what we did with my Gran a few years ago. It was a bit of a shock when she passed away, and everything was sad and weird for a while, but the feeling passes. I used to go to the cemetery and put flowers on her grave, but after a while I stopped doing that.
Actually, Whoever, I used to stand there looking at her gravestone and talking to her and you. Out loud. I hope you both heard me. I used to put freesias in the little metal vase. Freesias are good for that because for one thing they’re cheap but pretty and smell nice, and for another thing they’re not as delicate as some flowers.
They’re always dead by the time you go back, but I suppose if you put a vase in your back garden the same thing would happen. Cut flowers need to be looked after, like when my Dad buys my Mum some, which he does from time to time.
Nobody’s ever bought me flowers yet, but Mum says there’s plenty of time for that. It’s a funny thing to do, anyway, giving somebody something that isn’t going to last. It’s like chocolates: you eat them and they’re gone, so is that how long their feelings last, the person who gave them to you?
Nothing seems to last, does it? Everybody dies, mobile phones get outdated, laptops start doing funny things because they’re three years old. What used to be your favourite t-shirt gradually loses its colour and the shape goes a bit funny so you get a new one and that’s your favourite then.
I suppose I’ll just have to get used to it. Anyway, thank you for the fact that when one thing finishes another one comes along. I’ve decided I’m going to be an optimist, because that seems like a better way to do things. Thank you for me and everyone I know not being on that plane. I’m sorry for the people who were, of course, so I hope this doesn’t make me sound selfish.
But thank you for looking after me and I hope my Gran is okay. If she’s with you I’m sure she will be. Those people who don’t believe in you, I wonder what they think happened to their Gran when she died.