Visit to a medium

Last week, my daughter  visited a fairly prestigious medium. She wanted some answers, and she also wanted to hear from her father.

I know, I know. It’s not an especially wise thing to do, and I wouldn’t do it myself, but I have to confess to being quite excited to think that she might hear from my late husband (a close friend of hers had visited the same man about her sister, who’d died of cancer, and she was much comforted by what he said).

Anyway, the meeting was not a success. Part of it went a bit like this:
Medium: I think your mum is very anxious about Christmas, and where she’s going  to go.
Daughter: no.
Medium: I’m getting a William  - he’s a William - or perhaps a Bill? Does that mean anything to you?
Daughter: no
Medium: there’s a Sanders, or possibly Sanderson. Did you know anyone with that name?
Daughter: no.
Medium: when you were a child, did your father bring you back a teddy, or perhaps a doll?
Daughter: no.

This man aso told her that she and I were going to “cross swords” within the next fortnight. Well, we have never, ever had a row (well, not since the one occasion when she played knock and run in the village where we lived, and that was a very very long time ago.

We’ve got a week to go before that fortnight  is up, and we’re watching what we say very carefully.

(Btw, her father sent his love, but didn’t want to talk to us. Make of that what you will!)

My funeral

Travelling to a friend's funeral this week set me thinking.

We haven't seen this friend for a year or two, and yet we travelled to her funeral. It was less than two and a half hours' journey; why had we left it so long? And then I thought of all the other people I love but whom I haven't seen for a while. A couple of days ago,  I was speaking to a close friend I haven't seen for about two years, and we both agreed that we would certainly go to each other's funerals.
So why leave it until then? I have resolved to see more of my friends as soon as possible. While we're all still alive.

 As for my own funeral, I'd like to hold it now. While I'm still around to enjoy it. A kind of pre-funeral; putting the fun back into funerals. Why not? I could even start a business....

Remembrance

This music by Mark Blatchly is the very moving piece which St. Paul’s Cathedral Choir used to sing in the Royal Albert Hall on Remembrance Day. My son is the boy on the right in the first row of four, tho it’s hard to recognise him at all, never mind nearly forty years on. I love this piece, and it’s my rather late tribute to the very special day that was last Sunday.

Gone visiting...

Rosemary Gemmell has very kindly hosted me on her blog this Week. I’m sure you’ve all heard quite enough about me already on my blog, but I’m very grateful to Rosemary for inviting me 🙂

Thank you, Rosemary!