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  • Adjusting...

    Most (but not yet all) of the financial and practical matters following my Mum's death are now dealt with.  I am negotiating with siblings when we might inter her ashes.  Although the first 'first' is now not so far away (her birthday, in August) life is filling up with normality.

    And then there are the off guard moments when I find myself thinking, 'ooh, I must remmeber to tell Mum that...' or 'that will really annoy Mum...' (I have to experience the, 'I must ask Mum about...') and of course I can't and it won't.  And I know that.  And yet.

    And as adjustment continues, and my 'unguarded' slowly catches up with my 'conscious knowledge', life is as diverse as ever, mixing exciting and positive, with challenging or disappointing.

    Here, there are green shoots and hopeful possibilties, which is encouraging and reassuring. A different kind of ongoing adjustment is needed to adapt to an ever changing context.

    There's nothing novel about any of this, it's the same for everyone.  For some reason, though, I am especially conscious of the impact of my own ongoing adjustment to a new 'phase' or 'stage' or 'chapter' - or whatever it is - in life.

    For all that my Mum's life has taught and shown me, I am grateful to God,

    And all that lies before me, I entrust to God

    Who, amidst all change and challenge, is the one constant

    Now and always.

     

     

  • She flies through the air with the greatest of ease...

    Yesterday I had severe collywobbles at the thought of doing the zip slide...

    This morning, when I woke up, I had pre-exam nerves at the thought of it...

    And then came a real sense of peace, partly it has to be said from imagining all the women who've crossed the great divide into eternity standing at the far side of the Clyde cheering me on... a non-religious 'great cloud of witnesses' in pink tee-shirts.

    I recalled the abject fear of diagnosis, and of course anything I felt today was as nothing in comparison.

    And it was wonderful, not a single 'jelly leg' moment, no hesitation when the time came to go, just look up, look around and wheeeee! Although the camera didn't capture it, I waved to the crowds below, and thoroughly enjoyed the panoramic views along the Clyde.

    I was very touched that one friend came to watch me slide, and looked after my glasses (I feared they might tumble into the Clyde otherwise!), and who came with me for celebratory tea and cake afterwards.

    I can honestly say it was THE best fun I've had in a long time, and I would certainly consider doing it again now I know I can do it!

    Best of all, I have raised the better part of £600 in sponsorship to continue to support people affected by breast cancer... not a bad day's work!

  • Counting Down to Zip the Clyde!

    In just over 24 hours this will be me - eek!

    This week I have been very much reminded why I am doing this, as yet another courageous who is part of our GABBies group completed her stage 4 cancer journey and passed into eternal rest. In the same week, two primary ladies completed their active treatment and 'rang the bell' (a tradition that has emerged in the last year or two), and five of us met with healthcare professionals to discuss the new screening standards for Scotland.

    Research, campaigning, support - each has its place, and all need money to enable them to achieve their aims.