Thanks for taking some time out of your Bank Holiday Monday to pop in.
One of the TV demos on Saturday was stamping on the New Northern Lights parchment with the new Flutterby Carpe Diem Girl and my all time fave, the Fly Away Boy.…
And today, I have to say, I couldn’t think of a more appropriate piece of artwork to express what I am feeling.
Gratitude in spadefuls.
Let me take you to Rye, where we went yesterday evening,
to see the brilliant Eric Bibb in the church.
His soul music is beautiful; I have left you a little taster below –
to enrich your day.
Back to the artwork….
We were in the queue, waiting to go into the church/concert,
and we started talking to the couple behind us.
It was evident immediately that the guy – who looked about our age – had had throat cancer, and every time he spoke, he had to put pressure on his throat.
But you never met a more upbeat and positive bloke.
His wife too. Lovely kind smile.
He and Dave hit it off immediately, comparing music notes,
who they’d seen live, who they liked. Even the most obscure musicians were on both their playlists.
We sat together in the church, and the evening of wonderful music was made all the richer for meeting these strangers.
I asked him whether it hurt to speak, no he said, and they talked openly about the surgery, about how it came about just 18 months ago.
But CARPE DIEM was all I heard through his words.
Every day is a gift from God as far as this guy was concerned,
and he isn’t wasting many of them – if any!
You should have heard the trips they’ve been on,
and what they have been up to!
“Always something on the calendar,” she laughed.
I suppose when you have a tussle with Death like that,
it makes you re-evaluate things.
When we left the Church, all warm and happy, we popped into the little cinema to use the loo. There was a young girl on the floor in the tiny area between the mens and womens toilets, clearly having a fit.
While Dave ran for help, I dropped to the floor, got her on her side and cradled her head in my hands to stop her hitting her head on the doorframe whilst she was convulsing violently. I just intuitively knew to protect her head, and went with her movements as best I could. She slammed my hand into the wooden corner several times, and I just kept thinking “hold her head, don’t let go, hold her head”.
Slowly, gradually, her body slowed down, that insane strength left, and she relaxed out of the seizure. She was soaking with sweat and absolutely wiped out when she came round. One of her friends took over, told us it happens a lot and that we didn’t need an ambulance.
I had to trust him, and we moved on.
But my God, I thought.
I don’t know I’m born.
The man with the throat cancer who is living life to the full,
the girl with the seizures.
If I EVER EVER moan about ANYTHING,
give me a nudge, will you?
My hand is stiff and swollen from the exercise last night,
but I am so so so glad I walked in when I did,
and was able to be of assistance.
I got to walk away. That young kid gets to do that again today.
Love & Hugs,