Monthly Archives: December 2011

I cannot say

I heard earlier today of the tragic death of a wonderful young man.  It put me in mind of another terrible loss some years ago.  These lines are for Rich Taylor and Mike Blakey – also for anyone of you who is grieving at this time.


I cannot say


He took you so early.

You were so full of life.


I cannot say


He took you so early

With so much left to do.


Why do the good ones

Get pulled from this Earth

When their presence here makes it better?

Why do the bright ones

Burn fast and burn out

Leaving us wondering, wondering, wondering




I cannot say why

The radiant ones die

So young

So strong

With so much yet to give

So long left to live


But this I do know

Will know

And will show



Will not waste a day

As I walk on my way

Remembering you

As you would have us do


And to live

Each day to the full

Never knowing when

Or why

It may be

Our turn

My turn

To die.

An Open Letter to God

Hello Lord,

Well, that in itself is an interesting way to start.  I choose to address you as Lord, rather than Father, God or Jesus as I sometimes do.  Lord implies that I see you as a Person of power, of authority, and also to be revered.  This makes the level of honesty I wish to embrace a little tricky.  In fact, lets start again…

Dear Father God,

Well, as you know, I have had a couple of bits of bad news recently.  Not only is there a chance that I will not have a my contract renewed this coming April, but now Denise is back in hospital.  The interesting thing is that I am not as floored as I thought I would be.  I think I may be in denial about the job thing, especially as I do not yet know which way this is going to fall, and perhaps I have developed a kind of immunity to the fluctuation in my sister’s health.

There is a chance that is the case.  However, I could equally just be in that lag period and the reality of these situations is about to catch me up.  Knowing myself as I do, I fear it is going to hit me with an almighty thump sometime soon, and the results will not be pretty.

In fact, I am wanting to feel something about this.  I am not saying that I particularly want to be anxious and/or angry, but this odd detachment and not knowing quite how I am is disconcerting.  If I were shaking my fists at you and yelling, I would know myself.  If I were dissolving into floods of tears, I would know myself there too.  But this?  This I do not know.

As I type, waves of that kind of nausea you get in your chest and stomach prior to an interview or exam, for example, are coming and going.  This is the main sign that I am not as immune to all of this as I would like to believe.  It is also a sign that my detachment is not a result of me drifting on some kind of happy cloud of faith and trust.  In fact, we are barely on speaking terms at present, you and I.

No-one could deny that this ‘letter to you’ is really a cry out to my friends on the web.  The fact that I am addressing it to you is testament to the fact that I think I should be talking honestly with you about this, but that I am not really.  Perhaps I don’t really want to.  Perhaps the stuff that is going on under the surface, that you are likely to know, is too unpalatable to face.



Update:  D out of hospital. YAY!!! Looks like it was a bug, and not the usual inexplicable sickness thing.  😀

Also, have decided to see the job situ as an opportunity to explore some ideas I have.  May not need to come to anything, as the funding may come thru, but if I do have to leave I could well have a feasible contingency plan.  Opportunity comes in many disguises.

Thanks to all of you for your kind words and prayers.  You totally rock!