Goodbyes...

My Mum's best friend, Margaret, lost her husband last week. David had been ill for many years but fought it well. He lost his battle at 72. He was funny bugger, his views made me chuckle, mainly I disagreed (usually in disbelief given my fairly live and let live outlook) and I think he liked that. So we said goodbye in a lovely service in the only real church I know. Not that I'm a church goer of course, although I think that's probably fairly obvious, I did was forced to go to church when I was at school. I'm a non-believer but I quite like churches and graveyards. The building work is fabulous, craftmanship at it's best. I can't convince myself to have any faith though*.

Margaret asked my Mum to help her do the flowers. I've never seen someone with such strength. I know we all deal with grief differently, but if there's an example of dignity and strength that should be followed, then I would be happy if I find even a fraction of that strength to deal with the things life throws at us. So these are the flowers that my Mum helped Margaret with and they're beautiful, just as I knew they would be. x

Am more tired than a tired bear in tired land.

*I'm pretty sure I'm going downstairs anyway!

176 sleeps!