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  • Remembering... Stories and Spaces...

    It's no secret that I'm not a great one for place attachment.  Almost every significant building in my life has been demolished or compeletly redesigned.  Places I walked have been buried under housing estates.  Recently I discovered that the church building where I was baptised and ordained is about to be sold - no doubt it will be demolished (it's not a nice building!!).  And so on, and so forth.

    At the same time, I am very aware that for other people buildings and places carry huge signficance.  In this place all the major milestones of their lives were marked.  Here they went to school; there they met their life-partner... so I am always careful not to let my experiences undermine the authentic attachments of others.

    It was a bit of surprise, then, last Sunday when I was spending some time alone in the Gathering Place, taking photos of noticeboards and other random, mundane things, that a memory floated up from my subconscious dating back to 16th September 2010!

    A beautiful sunny day... a Thursday... and a day when, 24 days (I just counted!) after my cancer diagnosis, and the ensuing rush of appointments and tests and goodness knows what, I had a gift of a day to draw breath.  A day in which I went into the hall and span (spun?, not sure of correct form!) myself round and round like a child until I was dizzy. 

    I realised that, for me, this place carries part of my story too - my major life events.  Not in the once beautiful sanctuary, but in the tired, red lino of the hall; not only in the public and wonderful, such as my induction, but in the private and poignant, such as that day in 2010.

    Perhaps it's ironic that the hospital where I was diagnosed is no more... perhaps it is the story of my life that places where my signficant moments exist only in my imperfect memory.

    Today, I will be travelling north to stay in a real live castle, and to conduct a marriage ceremony for a young couple.  One day they will look back and recall that place, that day... one day, too, this place will be part of my story and, mysteriously, I part of its.