Tag Archives: death


Today’s prompt has left me cogitating: The children I have borne are my greatest gift to the world. I hope bits of me will live on through them. I admire each of them in different ways, and I know their love will live on through their own children.

A very small legacy will be the trees I have planted throughout my life. In every home I have lived in, in Australia, I have planted a lemon tree. Of course there have been hundreds more trees than that too. Others won’t know who planted them, but I will know I have left this planet a better place.

Christopher, my husband, will leave many beautiful paintings behind and they will continue to bring joy to many, so he will never be forgotten.

I have just completed, (yes, again), a YA fantasy fiction. I shall contemplate whether to be brave enough to have it self-published. In the meantime it will go off to an editor for the final polish. Will this be good enough to be remembered? Big question.

The Synopsis:                                                                                                                                             ‘Angels behind the Scenes’ is a fantasy novella written for you, whether you are young or old. Heaven and Earth merge in this gentle tale, allowing you to ponder on the after life. Remember you are not alone. Love and joy are not old-fashioned values, just the necessities of a full life.

Don’t forget about me. Word Prompt by Krista                                                                                Imagine yourself at the end of your life. What sort of legacy will you leave?                                 Describe the lasting effect you want to have on the world after you have gone.


A Glimpse into Death and Dying:

In our culture, talking about death is unusual, yet it is part of everyone’s life. There are other subjects that are taboo, such as: religion, politics and sex. I shall leave those alone today, but would like to write a little about death.

Visiting a dying friend yesterday made me ponder on differences. J.is dying of cancer and has come to the stage where he is wanting to die. His wife is distraught and wants him to fight it.         J. wants to die at home. Z. wants him to go back to hospital where he’ll get further physiotherapy. All he wants is to give up and die at home. I can see how exhausting it is for Z. but am sad that she can’t accept that J.’s time has come.

This weekend the children will return home for a family conference. Z. wants them to encourage J. to return to hospital. There are services that can be organized to help Z. at home, but they are expensive. They are financially comfortable and this would be possible.

If I put myself in her shoes, would it be selfish to expect my partner to prolong his agony? One can’t step in another’s shoes. I just hope that I have the courage to face such a situation, if it were to happen, more selflessly, and vice versa.

Watching my mother die, I remember how tiring it was. I think it was the uncertainty of not knowing how long it would take, that I found most difficult. I loved her dearly, but didn’t want to see her suffer. I left the room when she talked to the doctor. I respected her decision to take control of how she ended her life, and she had a doctor who respected her wishes. I just wish Z. could find the courage to accept J.’s wishes too, and not fight to the bitter end.

I’m sure there are many of you who have had to deal with death in your own families. Never an easy thing. I’d be glad to hear from you  with your beliefs, experiences, if you want to share.

‘Angels Behind the Scenes’ Post 2

I am well aware this won’t be everyone’s cup of tea, but if it gives just one person a more positive attitude towards death, then I’ll be pleased. It is written for the YA genre, but could equally be relevant for those older folk who want something light and thoughtful.

More Rehabilitation

‘I ask you all to think about what you’d like to achieve, now you are in heaven?’ says Gabriel, who is running this session.

‘Some of you may wish to continue studying. There are many sciences that are in need of research workers. I know some of you have had experience in this area on earth and will wish to continue this work. Good! Some of you will want to start a new study. Many writers amongst you may wish to continue writing. All options are open to you.’

‘Some of you have worked in the arts. We have musicians, actors, painters, sculptors and a myriad of other art forms. You may wish to work alone or work in a group. If you choose any of these pursuits you will have scope to fulfill your dreams here in heaven; or help those on earth as they struggle, when they ask for help. As the law on Earth gives people free will, we must respect that; we only help those who ask for help. By helping others, this will help you with your own development. We watch over people struggling, trying to discover something new, or compose new music. We are there ready to help. Does it surprise you that we continue to learn here in heaven?’ Most of us nod, as this all seems so strange and dream-like.

‘The option to help humans do what they set out to achieve; or to protect them from harm, are both valid. You will all be called upon to help humans from time to time. As you can now telepathize you will know when you are being called to help.’

Gabriel continues, ‘this leads us to those of you who would like to work in the healing profession. Some souls, who left Earth in a violent or unpleasant way, are in a hospital here in heaven. We need nurses and carers to tend these broken souls, so that they can feel loved again and become whole. I’m sure there are some of you who would enjoy helping here. Remember, as you help others, you are helping yourself.’

‘Are there any questions?’

A murmur goes around the room.

‘Does everyone have to do something?’                                                                                      ‘Good question! The answer is no. But because it is more satisfying to do something, whether that be helping others, or pursuing your own interests; most people find a full life more rewarding.’

‘As we don’t have a need for businesses here in heaven, there are businessmen and women and bankers who will want to discover ways of helping those on Earth. Your skills are always in high demand. Or, you may choose to develop new skills, widening your interests here in heaven.’

‘I can hear those of you in the hospitality areas saying,’‘What about us?’                                     ‘You too have the same options.

Yes, IT technicians are always being called for. There are endless possibilities and careers, just as there are people on Earth. Police, fire, ambulance; all of the emergency services are forever calling for help.’

‘I have a question,’ an old lady asks. ‘When someone asks for help, how do we know who should respond?’                                                                                                                      ‘Another good question, thank you Jess.’ Gabriel continues,‘You are linked telepathically to a small group on Earth. Because there are more of us in heaven than people on Earth, we limit ourselves to small groups, so we share our group with our close ones here,’ continues Gabriel, ‘That allows us free time and we’re able to be kept informed about our charges’ progress on Earth.’

‘Have you all had a chance to think of what you’d like to do?’ ‘Who would like to work here in heaven, working to help rehabilitate the forlorn in hospital?’                                                         ‘Yes Fleur, I think that would be a very good place for you to start, considering your extensive experience of hospitals.’ I beam, as that is just what I am thinking. This is so new, having people able to read my thoughts.

‘To begin with, I shall assign Martina to help you find your feet.’ Martina, a short, round angel with a gentle smiling face appears. Rather than wait to hear what everyone else is doing, we leave.

My first assignment                                                                                                                       We glide with a puff of wind through our hair to arrive at the hospital. Martina now looks at me seriously. ‘You may find this challenging’, her thoughts transfer, ‘but don’t be scared!’ I wonder what lies ahead.

‘We shall be working with Neil who murdered his son, Lucas, and as a consequence of threatening the police with a knife, he was shot.’                                                                         ‘Holy cow!’ escapes my lips.                                                                                                       Martina smiles before going on.

‘Neil is finding it very difficult to forgive himself. We are here to help him understand, what is done, is done. There is no judgement, and no going back. Now he must forgive himself, before he can ask his son’s forgiveness.’

‘How did he kill Lucas?’ I asked in all innocence.                                                                           ‘Neil has had mental health issues and his violence was well documented. Mary, the mother, had taken out a court order to keep her ex-partner away from Lucas; but because the boy loved his father and didn’t believe he would ever hurt him, it happened.’

‘Lucas wanted his father to come to cricket practice, so he could be like the other boys. He pestered his mother to let him come. Mary gave in as she believed Neil would behave himself in public.’

‘Neil, who had been living rough must have been building up to this. At the end of the match he swung the cricket bat at Lucas’s head and cracked his skull and then stabbed him, in front of everyone. Mary cradled Lucas while the chaos continued around them. The police arrived quickly to attend to this dangerous situation. Capsicum spray was used, which didn’t deter Neil. He chased the policeman with a knife, and the policeman shot him in self defense.’

‘Thanks for telling me this before we go in Martina. Is he safe now?’                                           ‘Yes Fleur, we are quite safe. Neil is full of remorse and we are just here to support him until he can find the resolve to forgive himself. He has been able to shed his mental illness and now his soul is in need of rest and refreshment,’ says Martina.

‘Can we do something enjoyable together, to take his mind off things?’                                ‘You’re getting the hang of this very quickly,’ Martina responds.

We enter a bright yellow ward with blue furniture. White fluffy bed covers for comfort rather than warmth covered the beds. Neil is sitting in a rocking chair reading.  Martina introduces us and suggests we might like to go swimming in the river. His face brightens as he nods in agreement.                                                                                                                                        ‘No need for togs.’                                                                                                                               As we immerse ourselves, the strangest thing happens; even though the water feels like water, we don’t get wet. Relaxing in the water we feel the healing properties infuse our bodies.       ‘Wow! If only I could tell my family about this. I shall have to ask Timothy if he’s been here.’

As Neil cries, his tears become rainbow coloured gems falling into the clear water. Tension releases and he’s able to talk to us sitting on an old log, while we dangle our legs in the water.  ‘I can’t believe how different I feel,’ says Neil. ‘This is like a miracle river with incredible healing powers.’

After Neil and I exchange our stories, Martina shares hers. She arrived many decades ago and isn’t in a hurry to be reborn on Earth. She loves being at ONE, though the time will come when she will choose to return to another life. She explains some more about living in Heaven.

‘Here we have no hierarchy. There are no religions, as there are on Earth. Love is sufficient. We are all equal; no one belongs to or has power over another. We are empowered to help others and as there is no commerce or money and love is not a physical thing, temptation is limited.

Good is stronger than evil and once we adapt to being in Heaven, negatives dissolve. It is wondrous watching the auras return to their true brilliance, once people have adjusted to their new surroundings.’ Martina glances about her; ‘I can see a difference in both of you after your swim!’                                                                                                                                                ‘You better believe it,’ says Neil. ‘I reckon I’m about ready to see Lucas!’ I glanced at Martina, who is smiling.                                                                                                                                 ‘Yes, I think you are Neil. Try out your telepathy. It is a perfect time to meet and have a swim together.’

Quick as a flash, Lucas appears. ‘Wow, how quick is that?’ says Neil. He introduces us and then Neil and Lucas dive into the swirling water and swim out to an island in the middle. There they sit in deep conversation.

Martina and I remain on the log observing them from a distance; things look to be going well as Lucas hugs his Dad.

‘How long does Rehab take Martina?’ I ask.                                                                                 ‘That’s hard to say: for you, because you are adjusting quickly, probably a couple of days. It may take Neil longer, as he has much to come to terms with, though it looks to be going well for him.’                                                                                                                                                ‘I think Lucas has forgiven his father’, I venture, ‘do you think he’ll stay and help his father adjust?’

‘That’s quite likely. We will stay in the background to give them backup; our love will allow them to feel true acceptance, which is the first step.’                                                                      ‘I’m glad you are here with me Martina, otherwise I’d be feeling out of my depth!’ Martina grins.

‘Tomorrow there is an art therapy group I think you’ll all enjoy,’ Martina suggests, when we are all back together. ‘I shall meet you here in the morning and we’ll go together. Whilst you are in rehabilitation you need your sleep. When you are completely recovered, sleep is an option, not a necessity.’

I liked the sound of that, although sleep has been a big part of my life; it will take some adjustment to give it up completely.

Next day we meet as arranged, the four of us hold hands so that Martina can direct us to the Art Therapy Centre. Here again is another beautiful building that is situated around a garden courtyard where sculptors are busy carving and creating. Inside we join the other participants. There are weavers, potters and painters, each group sharing different studios. Skylights fill the studios with light.

Another circle with zapping precedes the workshop. I am getting used to this now. We are given options as to where we’d like to work. Neil and I choose the pottery studio. Lucas and Martina elect to express their feelings in paint. The bustle of activity settles as we all become absorbed in our own projects. After wedging my clay telepathically, I begin a coil project. The sculpture starts forming as a womb and gradually grows into a huge pot. Absorbed in telepathic concentration the room hums with quiet activity. The thought of food and drink does not cross our minds. It means we can get far more done as we have less to distract us.

I glance over at Neil. He is immersed in a group of entwined figures forming one shape. They are each stuffed with paper, so that the clay won’t explode when it’s fired. It looks a very loving group and his aura had brightened showing his sense of peace and satisfaction.

When we finish our labour of love, we meet to share what we have done. Fascinating stories continue to emerge; people open up, releasing their tales. It is as if the work we’ve created contains our story and it retains the pain and joy. My womb shaped sculpture contains my unborn babies and the cancer.

Lucas paints his cricket team winning the state prize. His use of yellow, his favourite colour, shows his positive attitude and joy of life in his painting, though his yearning to be there is palpable. His forgiveness of his father is remarkable and it is heart warming to see his Dad accepting Lucas’s forgiveness. They’ve both come a long way.

Neil then explains his intricate work. Lucas is moved to hear his father’s loving words and to see his pain and torment absorbed in the sculpture. Again many tears are shed, but they are tears of gratitude and acceptance as much as of sorrow.

Martina painted her ‘garden of plenty’, as she calls it. Well- being with harmonious colours radiate from the paper, as they do from her. Just to look at her work makes me feel joyful.

Returning to Rehab for another restful night, we agree to meet the next day at the same spot. Martina has another surprise in store for us.

Dreams in Heaven are abundant. I chat to some of the other new comers in my wing. They, too, experience happy, positive, dreams. Mine are so enjoyable I don’t want to wake up. I have been flying with the butterflies in Martina’s painting! I feel so weightless.

Today another new experience awaits; I am beginning to understand how helping others helps me. Martina is glowing as we hold hands for our next destination.

A colonnade of elegant white marble arches surround the building standing before us. Vigorous vegetation with a heavenly perfume wafts from the garden beds. There are a lot of beings here. I wonder if we are all here for the same purpose. Inside to the left, there is an orchestra tuning up. We are each given sheet music and asked to go into the practice hall.

The conductor begins, ‘Today we are forming a choir. Singing together will bring total unification and healing.’                                                                                                                       ‘I shall teach you how to draw in the golden light before we start.’ Neil looks over dubiously. Martina gives him a reassuring smile.

We’ll start with some simple exercises and then begin with some songs. The more we sing, the better we’ll sound. Our aim, by the end of the week, is to sing the Handel that is on our sheet music. I know you are thinking that this looks really hard. Gradually we will learn the parts, so that you will all sing in glorious harmony.

After a full day our conductor says,’ Well done! I shall see you back here tomorrow, you are getting better and better!’                                                                                                              Now it is time for a relaxing swim. It is a popular choice as we all end up swimming in the river. Playfully we splash one another and the noise level rises. Even though we don’t get wet, the gentle sensation of water splashing is fun, without the annoyance of it getting in our eyes.

Tension is released as we enjoy splashing each other. Laughter must be heard throughout the valley. I think of Timothy, and he arrives on cue! Wow, this will take some getting used to. I introduce him to Lucas and Neil, as he already knows Martina. We play together like little children; and feel exhilarated, yet are soon ready for rest at the end of the day.

Choir practice is a daily treat for the rest of the week. As we improve quickly, it is decided to have a concert in the grand hall at the weekend. The whole building reverberates with the orchestra tuning up.

Friends and relations and more arrive to hear us. We are feeling confident that the extraordinary sound will move them too. We sing ‘The Messiah’ in full. I sing soprano, and the music lifts my spirit up into the vaulted ceiling. I don’t want to stop.

Our ethereal bodies absorb the sound and the whole building resounds with joy. Neil is singing bass and loving it. Lucas sings alto. This week of singing changes us as a group; our auras now shine like the angels about us. We are ONE at last! Graduation day has come. Rehabilitation over; now we are ready for serious work.

Visiting Earth

Neil and Lucas are drawn to help Mary, Luke’s Mum. She is alone now and misses him terribly; so his decision is made easy. Neil remains as a backup for Luke, and hopes that he can regain Mary’s trust. He must prove himself and show his recovered self.

I feel torn between my friend in hospital, with whom I’ve spent so much time, and my family. Timothy and I decide to visit the hospital for my first experience of helping humans. Annie’s plight is dire and her calls for help are powerful. Timothy used to come to help me before I left my body. Now he will show me how I can help heal and ease Annie’s fear of death.

Annie’s insistent call ceases when we arrive; she senses our arrival. She has been in and out of hospital for six months, having a series of treatments that have weakened her body and her spirit.

Timothy explains the procedure. We sit either side of her bed and by linking thoughts; we surround Annie in a glorious pink healing light.

This ‘light treatment’ will lift her spirit so that she can face her ongoing treatment and remain positive. It is essential to saturate her body with pink light, helping Annie to fight the cancer. Time is a strange thing; we could sit for hours and it would seem like a second.

As we watch Annie’s illness go in and out of remission, we are there to support her. When she absorbs the light her breathing calms. As she snoozes we leave, knowing she’ll have a relaxed sleep.

We then go to visit my family. My mother is still grieving over my untimely departure, or death, as she thinks of it. Seeing her makes my heart swell with love and pride. My mother has been my strength throughout my illness. Here she is sitting having a cup of tea, quietly sobbing. Timothy and I sit at the kitchen table with her. We surround her with a brilliant white light; she stops crying and her face relaxes, breaking through her sorrow. We smile at one another. Joy is returning to her broken heart.

The doorbell rings. Mum goes to see who is there.                                                                   ‘Come in June!’ Mum’s old friend is obviously upset.                                                                       ‘Sit down and have a cuppa, I’ll pop the kettle on. I was just going to make a fresh cup.’                 ‘I shouldn’t be worrying you, Bea, at such a time,’ says June Bunting.                                  ‘Nonsense June, I was just thinking of inviting you over, you’ll help to take my mind off my own thoughts. Come in and tell me what is bothering you? You look upset.’                                         ‘I just want to ask you what you think of this?’ June says.                                                           ‘Cathy has been spending a lot of time in her room since Fleur died. She’s been really quiet and I just thought she’s missing Fleur. But yesterday, I went into her bedroom and saw her crying her eyes out. She said, ‘Of course I miss Fleur, but it ‘s more than that. I’ve been getting lots of nasty texts and messages on the computer. Fleur isn’t here to talk to, I just feel so desperately sad and lonely.’

‘I’m at my wits end! I don’t know what to do!’ June expounds. ‘Often I’m at work and I’m not there to give her the support she’s needing. Could I suggests she comes and talks to you when I’m not there?’                                                                                                                                   ‘Of course June, I’d love her to, if she feels she’d like to. Does she know who is sending the messages?’                                                                                                                                        ‘No, she can’t think who would be so nasty. They are saying she is a slut and other horrible, untrue things. There are even death threats! I went to the school this morning, but they weren’t much help. They did say they’d look into it.’ June broke down in tears. Her silent prayer is screaming for our help!

While Bea comforts June, Timothy and I do our thing. The light in the room radiates calm and love. The timing is perfect for our visit. As the women calm down and drink their tea, Timothy and I telepathise.                                                                                                                            ‘Who is doing this to Cathy? What can we do about it?’ We must visit Cathy tonight and see if we can pick up any clues. Maybe we need some advice from ‘upstairs’?

We leave June and Bea, as we need a quick trip ‘home’ before visiting Cathy tonight. At least travelling is a breeze.



Reblog of Angels Behind the Scenes: A taste

Angels behind the scenes. Barbara Pyett © 2015

Being whooshed through a tunnel of brilliant light, I am excited. The air is blissful and resonates with the sounds of singing. My body feels light and translucent. I can run and walk without pain. Having regained my senses I realize that this must be heaven.

Children are running around playing. I recognize a few faces. There is my friend Timothy. He looks happy and runs towards me and gives me a big hug; our bodies melt into our nothingness.

‘You won’t believe what it’s like living here Fleur! Look, here comes Gabriel to take you to your initiation, we’ll catch up later.’                                                                                                    Gabriel, a tall, elegant angel takes my hand, ‘There is a procedure to follow, and then you can celebrate with your friends and family.’ Gabriel telepathizes.

Gabriel escorts me. We speed through the air. It is called teleporting, arriving at the speed of thought. Gabriel’s thought this time, not mine.

‘Where are we Gabriel?’

‘You are here to be initiated, to relearn about living in heaven. On Earth you forgot our ways.’

Together we enter a huge white marble building where the splash of fountains echo under  towering arched domes. It is as light inside as it is outside and the temperature remains warm. With ease I look up into the stunning patterned vaults above. White doves coo and fly around us. I feel as if I am in a dream or am I stuck in a fantasy computer game? The air smells as sweet and fresh as freesias. It must be real, I try to pinch myself and question, what is real?

In a large hall we see a lots of people sitting around in a circle.

‘Please sit and join us,’ says a pleasant voice coming from nowhere.

‘You are here to refresh and adapt to heavenly ways.

To begin with I shall ask everyone to hold hands.’

As we do this electric pulses shoot through our hands and bodies.

‘This feeling allows you to remember that we are all ONE; part of a whole, which is LOVE.’ The room fills with a brilliant light, which emanates from all of us sitting in the circle.

‘On Earth you had free will and forgot about being ONE. Competition was part of your culture. You had the choice of being good or evil. Breaking the rules was always a temptation. Your memories of heaven were obliterated, which enabled you to live a life of comparative freedom and make your own choices. Some of you lived full and productive lives, but some of you made bad choices and other lives were affected by illness,’ the unearthly voice continues.

‘Earthly media thrives on bad news where fear, cheating, lying, power struggles, stealing, violence, murder, child abuse and ruthless competition all hit the headlines. Some of you are still filled with negative feelings, such as: anger, fear, hatred, avarice, jealousy, addiction, resentment, inferiority, deceit or simply being egoists living selfish lives. Afflictions may be healed now you are in heaven in our Rehabilitation Centre. You’ll relearn how to adjust to the light where acceptance, positivity, compassion, authenticity, integrity and love are the norm, and you will experience ONENESS.’

‘Telepathy doesn’t allow lying.’

‘How can this be real?’ I hear my neighbour murmur.

‘Oneness may be interrupted by negative Earthly thoughts. If you experience these, the Rehabilitation Centre will support you in your recovery. If you think you need help, please leave now with Angelica.’

I stand up with a large number of people to leave. My resentment of the way I was torn from my family still overwhelms me. Those of us leaving have auras tinged with different colours. Those who remain sit in a glorious golden light.                                                                                ‘I know many of you are wishing to link up with friends and family, you may do so at the end of this session.’


Teleporting is cool! Standing in a long glass fronted building looking out onto parklands and a river, birds of every size are flying, wading or floating on the river. Their calls mixed with children’s’ happy laughter echo about us.

We sit in another circle as we each share our story. I am surprised to find that every life story is moving and equally poignant. Listening, we let our tears flow freely.

Jo sits on the left side of me. He has suffered from violence and mental illness. He cries when he recounts the harm he has suffered and the harm and distress he has caused his family. The energy from the circle helps release his anxiety.

Maggie, on my right has been addicted to gambling and committed suicide leaving her children without a home, or a parent.

What a lot for her to come to terms with!

My problems seemed insignificant when I listened to so many woeful stories. These extracts make me realize how lucky I’ve been, coming from a loving family. I share my own experience of dying from cancer and the sorrow I feel leaving my family: not being able to finish my studies, to grow up and have a career and family of my own.

When we finish, we hold hands and are zapped with loving energy. Most of us feel wiped out and need sleep before we can face seeing our family and friends.

The Rehabilitation Block has beds for us all; where we can sleep soundly to refresh ourselves. Heavenly sleep, how apt!

Another change from our former lives is that food isn’t necessary. Of course a food- a-holic may choose to pretend to eat, by conjuring up visions of food. This is something they will wean themselves of in rehab. The same method applies to Alcoholics and for any other addiction.


Meeting up with my great grand parents, great aunts and uncles and my darling grandmother is overwhelming. None of them look as old as I expected. Grandma tells me, ‘I was able to choose to be rejuvenated in rehabilitation, so I could return to a healthy body and leave those old arthritic knees behind. We can all choose whatever age we wish to appear. No plastic surgery necessary in heaven!’

‘No wonder there are so many young looking people.’

‘We all watched over you in hospital.’ Grandma says.

Life in heaven blows my mind, to know that I had all of these people watching over me. My friend, Timothy, appears as soon as I think of him. He says,

‘With telepathy and being able to move so quickly, linking up is easy.’

We sit and talk about our friends left behind and the good times we shared at school.

‘All of my problems are over, no pain and no worries. Acceptance and love have obliterated my sad memories. Though sometimes I do think of what might have been if…’ Timothy looks away, as he hides a wistful expression.

We watch Joe meet up with his father; they look so similar, and the same age. Seeing Maggie’s loving family surround her makes me want to cry. People to care and support them, no matter what they have done in the past, surround the newcomers.

It is time to return to rehabilitation for another session.

‘Off you go, that is where you need to be at the moment. I’ll see you soon!’ Timothy is gone in a blink.

Being one huge family, just a thought away, means that we are always there for each other, this is awesome!

Would you like more?









Knock, Knock, Knocking: reblog

Brenda Ann’s posts share her joy and common sense. This post is about her visit to her father when he nearly died. This reminded me of my own father’s excitement about his next stage of his journey, just before he died. It was comforting to know he was content and his attitude helped the rest of the family. I hope you enjoy Brenda Ann’s post.


pieces of me

heaven door

“This is love: to fly toward a secret sky, to cause a hundred veils to fall each moment. First to let go of life. Finally, to take a step without feet.” Rumi

Life is all about change.  In our day to day world it is easy to forget that fact.  We go about our days thinking the same thoughts, doing the same things, slight variations of a constant stream of sameness.  It brings comfort and lulls us into a false sense of security.  We nestle into our routines and create a nice, comfortable illusion for ourselves.

But then something happens and that illusion is shattered.

Which brings us to last week.  Message received from Mom:  Dad is in the hospital with multiple pulmonary embolisms (emboli?) and while she ensures that everything is fine, I decide to hop a flight anyways, to see for myself. What, me worry?


He is…

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To a friend– freedom: Howl at the moon

Howl at the Moon. ‘Follow your inner moonlight; don’t hide the madness.’ Allen Ginsgerg

Do you follow Ginsberg’s advice– in your writing and/ or in your everyday life? Ben Huberman 

Tony Bowring, art school days in the 1960s.

Tony Bowring, art school days in the 1960s.

To a friend — freedom

Tony left, mercy be.

His worn body, set free,

A slow departure, body rent,

Breathing fraught, with discontent.


Finally he’s risen high,

Where he’s welcomed in the sky.

Rejoicing and much merriment,

Is now where he can be content.


My thoughts go to those left behind,

who miss his cheeky, creative mind.

His smile lighting up a room,

will for a time be left in gloom.


Thankfulness that he no longer lingers,

in that half world where disease fingers.

His joy at being free at last,

from stress and illness is a blast.


Time heals, is something to be learned,

for close ones of the unreturned.

Tony’s life will forever bring,

a smile to those where memories spring.



Forgive me:

IMG_2001Is there a mistake you’ve made that turned out to be a blessing—or otherwise changed your life for the better? Tell us about it. Ben Huberman

Today, I feel a bit self indulgent, when such horrendous things are happening in the Middle East. Forgetting about the troubles in the world for the moment, I’d like to share with you a couple of my many mistakes.

I had been sitting by my Mother’s hospital bed, not knowing how long she had, for the three weeks before she died. Looking on the bright side, she had a single room and the sun shone through the window. As she’d been an army nurse during the WW2 she had a gold card, which meant she had the best of medical services.

This period gave us time to talk, though there were so many things I didn’t say, which I wished I had, afterwards. My Mother, Brenda, didn’t lose her sense of humour. She raised her eye- brows as an obese person passed the door in a hospital gown showing a bare back view as they passed. She had a good report with her doctor, as he wrote me a heart felt letter after she died.

My eldest brother came to share her last hours, whilst Brenda was unconscious, preparing for her departure. My Mother died after we left the hospital. We returned at 2am to a body, no longer my Mother. It is something that has been written about, but until you experience this, it is not something one can prepare oneself for.

Numbness enveloped me. Brenda had been my best friend. We spoke constantly on the telephone between our visits to one another. Now there was a gaping hole. Fortunately for me, I’d married Christopher the year before, so I was not alone, though he was working in Victoria at the time.

Clive and I made the necessary arrangements with the undertaker. Being numb, I allowed them to take over and arrange the flowers etc. The death notice was quickly put together, forgetting the right etiquette: our diseased Father, spouses and children forgotten. We just put my Mother’s five children’s names in reverse order. This was probably trying to keep things simple, forgetting others’ feelings.

The funeral turned out to be a huge affair. Coming from a large family, plus my Mother having worked on many committees, been a people person and befriending many, her influence was widely felt in the town. The Presbyterian Church was over flowing. When I saw the coffin I cringed. The flowers on the coffin were salmon pink gladioli with some other flowers. Gladioli were the one flower my Mother hated. She’d been forced to carry them at her own wedding and she complained how heavy and stiff they were.

Brenda had done the flowers at the church for years and did flowers for others’ funerals/ weddings, and here I was having neglected to arrange them for her funeral. I felt ashamed of myself.

Christopher and I returned to Victoria the next day only to be rung the following day to hear that his Father had died. We returned to Devonport to arrange for Eric’s funeral. This time I was able to do the flowers myself, cutting them from my Mother’s garden. Arranging a wreath for his coffin was done with much love. If only I’d been thinking straight and been able to do this for my Mother. It felt so therapeutic arranging those flowers and they did look beautiful.




Rudyard Kipling: ‘His Apologies’ 1932

For anyone suffering the loss of a dog; especially ooohitsalyx who wrote on her blog about losing her dear dog. This poem is unapologetically emotive. It’s good to cry!

His Apologies kipling

Master, this is Thy servant. He is rising eight weeks old.

He is mainly Head and Tummy. His legs are uncontrolled.

But Thou hast forgiven his ugliness, and settled him on Thy knee…

Art Thou content with Thy Servant? He is very comfy with Thee.


Masteer, behold a sinner! He hath committed a wrong.

He hath defiled Thy Premises through being kept in too long.

Wherefore his nose has been rubbed in the dirt, and his self -respect has been bruised.

Master, pardon Thy sinner, and see he is properly loosed.


Master-again Thy Sinner! This that was once Thy Shoe,

He has found and taken and carried aside, as fitting matter to chew.

Now there is neither blacking not tongue, and the Housemaid has us in tow.

Master, remember Thy Servant is young, and tell her to let him go!


Master, extol Thy servant, he has met a most Worthy Foe!

There has been fighting all over the shop – and into the Shop also!

Till cruel umbrellas parted the strife (or I might have been chok-ing him yet).

But Thy Servant has had the Time of his Life – and now shall we call on the vet?


Master, behold Thy Servant! Strange children came to play.

And because they fought to caress him, Thy Servant wentedst away.

But now that the Little Beasts have gone, he has returned to see

(Brushed -with his Sunday collar on) what they left over from tea.


Master, pity Thy Servant! He is deaf and three parts blind.

He cannot catch Thy Commandments. He cannot read Thy Mind.

Oh, leave him not to his loneliness; nor make him that kitten’s scorn.

He hath had none other God than Thee since the year that he was born.


Lord, look down on Thy Servant! Bad things have come to pass.

There is no heat in the midday sun, nor health in the wayside grass.

His bones are full of an old disease – his torments run and increase.

Lord, make haste with Thy Lightnings and grant him a quick release!