R's rue

  from Going Gently https://ift.tt/3sReQf9

 The muddy water. I’m wading through it. Metaphor. I know, it’s life. Each day I feel the need to walk down to the pond and meditate. Let the summer sun take me away. Be one with the mosquitoes and bees. Take a swim in that water with the fish right beside me. Be one with the land. Let God’s creation envelope me in a hug. One I’ve denied myself for far too long. Maybe as we children, we have it right. Too much thinking, not enough doing. Jump, don’t hesitate. Not everything with bite unless we try. When I say we, I mean me. I’ve put off writing, beyond what I’ve gotten comfortable with, and that’s not when you grow. I want lots of things, but I’ve not put in the work. Anything worth doing takes effort, even if that is to remind myself to breathe and hydrate. I’m reading others’ words.  I need to read my own. That means I must write them. What’s the good with talent, if you don’t use it. It goes wasted.  I have always worried, and God has always said:  Go!  I won...

  Ben and his family Ben and I were interviewed for the same job at the hospice on the same day.  I was convinced he would get the job over me as he had worked there already, was responsible for research between the University and the hospice and had taught student nurses as a lecturer in my ex husband’s School of Nursing. I was desperate for the job and was retired and felt old. Getting the job meant that I could finally afford the mortgage on the cottage As it turned out we both got the job And Ben turned out to be a dear and loyal friend . In the last two years, he, fellow nurse Ruth and I have been part of the same messenger group as well as work colleagues. We are planning a reunion in his new home next year. We “talk” out of work more than we do in, and the banter was a lifeline during lockdown  That group will continue to flourish, I am sure,  as it’s a site for banter, childish innuendo and gossip. Ben, as the only straight man, is inordinately ...