I walked there again this past Father’s Day morning, in the rain and under a grey sky with my oldest, dearest friend. By the time we reached the Hillhead, there was no rain and the sky bright and blue. As if someone had ordered it, the cars stopped whizzing by. Save for the birds, all fell silent. Inexplicably, at first, I was compelled to reach for my phone to begin recording the silence. I even told my friend to be quiet, not knowing why. Within seconds, it made sense, as the church bell began ringing out from the village below. I could barely breathe.
Now you may say it was just a coincidence, but I like to think the earth paused to let Heaney’s Midnight Anvil – “the one with the sweeter sound” – ring out twelve more times for my best friend, for me, and for our dead husbands, the men who loved us so well and for so long.
From the other side of the Door Into The Dark on Father’s Day 2015.