NEIL'S TRIP TO HIS VACATION HOME IN THE HIGH DESERT

After Neil made his decision not to start a relationship with Debbie, he decided he had enough of the city for awhile and left for  his vacation home where he and Sarah went every Mother's Day for 30 years.   Every year it snowed on this particular Sunday in May,  and, that is the main  reason they would go up to the desert to enjoy the last snow of the season.

Neil arrived on Saturday night and sure enough when he awoke the next day snow was falling.   After what happened this morning,   he didn't experience sadness but an exhilaration edging on pure joy.  Everything and everywhere he looked seemed fresh and new to him and it was all because of a bird.  Earlier while drinking his morning coffee,  he had been looking through his binoculars towards a tree in the distance where  he  spotted the bird - the one he dreamed during the night that Sarah would send to him today .   Through the lens he saw the Downey Woodpecker and knew immediately why it was there.   After a few moments he set the binoculars down and reached towards the sky with a jubilant Thank You!    He  finally felt  a sense of peace and release to see where life would take him next.

As he turned to walk back inside he noticed a book lying on a table just inside the door - There was a post it note sticking out and he opened the book to that page where  he saw this message. 

You will lose someone you can’t live without, and your heart will be badly broken, and the bad news is that you never completely get over the loss of your beloved. But this is also the good news. They live forever in your broken heart that doesn’t seal back up. And you come through. It’s like having a broken leg that never heals perfectly – that still hurts when the weather gets cold, but you learn to dance with the limp.
Anne Lamott


Ise Oluwa


Choir tonight..........I needed some healing time, something I knew yesterday when
I messaged Jamie ( and his 1940s RAF moustache) to request we sing Ise Oluwa tonight

Ise Oluwa is an African prayer for water, and it was one of the first songs I learnt in Choir.
Sung  slightly quicker than the above example, I remember our choir wrestling somewhat with the harmony on a winter's night in the village hall.
Jamie, in a fit of insight, told us to sing one last time and as we did so, he turned off the lights so we sang in complete darkness.
Without the restraints of looking at each other, and in the stillness and the dark,
I remember the choir rose to the occasion
And with a great deal of tears in a great number of eyes

We performed the song quite beautifully