One of those weeks...

Blogging seems to be hard this week.  There are so many things going on around me and in the wider sense, around the country, that my mind is pretty frazzled.

This is one of the consequences of having Fibromyalgia and ‘information overload’ – the brain just turns tail and hides somewhere out of reach till it all dies down a bit!  I wish I knew where it hides, then I could go hide with it cos at the moment, the rest of me is still trying to deal with four kids on summer break, interviews for the two men in the house, middle daughter in a flap, teen daughter’s hair dye issues, coughs – the sort that bark all through the house all night, Lego and oh soooo much more!

I have four gallons of wine waiting to be bottled and another seven waiting to be racked, none of which I have the energy for, and in the grand scheme of things, it’s probably not that important.

On Monday, I baked – all day.  We filled eight tins with various muffins, cookies and flapjacks and when I say tins – I mean the tins that your Roses come in for Christmas.

Tuesday, spent trying to recover from Monday, did too much, felt like poo.  Middle son had a call to say that he had an interview on Thursday, so it was all hands on decks to find his certificates and show him how to press his suit.

Wednesday was to be a study day – the morning in the library and then the afternoon with Middle Daughter before hitting the home run to be back in time to host my weekly Healing Circle online.

Thursday – recovering from Wednesday.  Had a migraine and felt sick all day, read nothing, wrote nothing, did nothing – period!

And today, well today I am trying to get to grips with some software but my head is still all muzzy from the week and the weather.  Perhaps I’ll go lie down for a while... but I have to make a shopping list for the weekly shop. 

Dear Husband will be hot footing it home from work tonight to do the regular supermarket run.  Two trolleys, one man, one woman and a list!  We will fight them in the aisles, we will fight them at the checkouts, we will do battle with carrier bags and boxes.  When we reach the hallowed peace of home again, we will do battle with cupboards, fridge and freezers.  We’ll get it all put away just in time to flake out in front of the TV for an hour with luck, before one or both of us fall asleep.

And so we come to the weekend...  is there any wonder this is my first blog post this week?

Goodnight Bill - Rest in Peace

Last night, I found out that a dear and respected friend had lost his fight with the big ‘C’ and shuffled off this mortal coil.  I am therefore asking your indulgence whilst I say a few words about him here.

I am feeling like crap!  I believe in the continuance of the soul after the death of the physical body, I know in my heart that my dear friend’s suffering has ended and that instead of being incarcerated in a wheelchair (as he has spent the last few months), his spirit is free now to soar.  I believe that I will see and hear him again at some point in the future.

Not a Rose for your memory Bill,
but a Scottish thistle.

Yet I am so very sad.

Even more odd perhaps, is that I never met this person in the flesh.  In fact I had only heard his voice on one occasion.  My dear friend Bill was a member of an online community that I run.  We had been friends online for about seven years; working together on several projects, learning from one another along the way.  I attuned Bill to Reiki; I encouraged him to work with his Tarot and with mediumship – something that was rather frowned upon in his home country.

Bill, at least the Bill that I know, is a generous spirit.  I know that he loved his family dearly, although I suspect that he may not have told them that too often – he often told me.  I came to regard Bill not just as a friend, but as the man I wish that my father had been.  He supported me when things were slow on our community and when I became exhausted; he stood in for me to lead our Healing Circle, even though he himself was unwell.  He didn’t like to complain, so we quickly learned a code, instead of asking one another ‘How are you?’ as is considered polite to do, we would skirt around the words, yet still let one another know how we were.  It was an understanding we held with one another – a respect for our feelings.

Bill also had a wicked and naughty sense of humour, always cracked us up in our chatroom, and always called all the women in our community ‘lass’, for which those of us well past the first flush of youth were always eternally grateful! 

We are going to miss you Bill, your absence online is going to leave one heck of a hole in our community, but you will never be forgotten.  Go well on your journey my friend, and come back soon, we will be waiting for you.