The promising start of a bright sunny day has given way to sporadic rain and grey skies. Given how wet the last few weeks have been I'm not downhearted. Spring is inching its way into fill the void of a mild but wet winter. Standing on the cusp of that change I reflect on what was.
What was was a brutal autumn term of too much change, expectation and confusion. Getting further on it has become easier. Yes there are days like Tuesday when I vent inappropriately and days too when I mourn my dead in ways that have not gone down well with everyone. The problem with death and funerals is all we hear is half truths and outrageous glory. That which I wrote in the week still stands. I'm not in the business of writing eulogies. This blog is dedicated in part to exposing the brutal reality of the mental health world.
My weekend has been one of recuperating. The last week was not easy. But what week is when one is in pain? The quiet weekend which ensued included a lovely gathering with friends in The Waggoners yesterday afternoon, an England victory over Wales in the rugby, a Lao curry featuring prawns, potatoes and dill. Now on my second opera of the day, Handel's Arminio accompanies me as I write. Earlier I had a pint in The White Horse in Welwyn.
Around 4 pm I will put a joint of gammon studded with cloves in the oven for a slow roast and an enticing supper.
Come this time next week I will be down at the seaside. A long deserved break will see me headed for the coast. Dad will turn 83 that week and we must celebrate. Before that however I must attend a funeral. Not for my friend Nigel, that will be in due course, but for my neighbour Sheila who lost her brave and courageous battle with cancer a couple of weeks ago.
Going into the new working week good luck and stay safe. Until next time.
I Heard a Voice.
No comments:
Post a Comment