i was brought up catholic. i'm not any more. but it always surprises me how many people around me are catholic.
i'm not catholic any more. but i still light candles.
whenever we're away from home and go into a church or cathedral, i find the candles. i light one and i pray for the dead and for the living. i pray, even though i don't believe any more there is anyone to pray to. it's almost genetic. something i just can't fight.
if i'm honest, i'm not convinced i want to.
i've not lit candles at home for a long long time. i went through the obligatory candle phase at university, and during the years of denial where i worked in a university and hung out exclusively with students. but since i got a place of my own it's just not been something i've done.
but since we lost the baby, i've been lighting candles. the evenings i feel particularly low, i light a black candle. i'm aware of it burning as i go about my evening.
yesterday, in York, we went into the Minster. i lit a candle and thought of the baby. thought about all of those out there who have lost their children. there are too, too many of us.