#AprilPrompts Day 16 – Hospital

This post was a difficult one for me to write. It’s a very condensed version of the last hour I spent with my mother. She passed away on 23rd April 2004.


Day 16 - Hospital

Day 16 – Hospital

I sat by the bed and held her hand. She writhed in pain in her drug-induced coma; soft moans escaped her dry lips, piercing me through the heart like poison-tipped arrows.

I spoke words of comfort and love, not knowing if she could hear me, but hoping just the same. Wishing my voice would penetrate through the pain so she knew I was there and wasn’t alone; praying she could feel my hand and derive some solace from it.

Her soft moans became agonised cries and I called for a nurse. Responding quickly, the uniformed angel explained the morphine wasn’t enough and a heroin/morphine mix would have to be administered. She bustled away, returning minutes later with a syringe. The contents were injected and the cries ceased.

Fifteen minutes later, her breathing changed, became laboured and I called the nurse again. After one glance, she turned to me, her sad eyes. “I’m sorry, she’s going.”

“Please, call my family?” I asked. She nodded. Somehow I knew they wouldn’t arrive in time.

I sat and cuddled Mum in her hospital room until she stopped breathing.

I felt Dad’s spirit by her bed – he waited for her – and despite my grief, I was glad they were reunited.




#AprilPrompts Day 10 – Loss

This is a very emotive issue, as I know only too well, having lost both my parents to cancer and suffering several miscarriages. I’d like to offer another way of handling this sensitive subject.


Day 10 - Loss

Day 10 – Loss

It’s always sad when you lose someone you love – sad and incredibly painful. We lose ourselves in grief as we lament their passing yet we are really feeling sorry for ourselves and what we have lost.

Our loved ones are now free of pain and disease; they suffer no longer and have gone to a better place – a location where the sun always shines, there is no sickness, they stay forever young and love abounds.

Surely this is something to celebrate rather than mourn.

Should we not rejoice for the lives they lived? Would it not be better to reflect upon the happy memories we shared, to cast our minds back over the many years of mutual love and respect we had?

Recall what your loved one stood for: their morals, their generosity of spirit, the love they gave to you and others, their achievements, their sacrifices, and what made them so special to so many people.

Take delight in a life which, no matter how long or short, was full and satisfying. Feel joy for all the people they touched on the mortal plane. Exalt as they become guardian angels.

And never forget, love doesn’t die on either plane.


The wonderful poem by Mary Elizabeth Frye also embodies this spirit and I feel it’s apt to include it here.

Do Not Stand At My Grave And Weep

Do not stand at my grave and weep
I am not there. I do not sleep.
I am a thousand winds that blow.
I am the diamond glints on snow.
I am the sunlight on ripened grain.
I am the gentle autumn rain.
When you awaken in the morning’s hush
I am the swift uplifting rush
Of quiet birds in circled flight.
I am the soft stars that shine at night.
Do not stand at my grave and cry;
I am not there. I did not die.


Blue #BlogFlash2012

Hi. Today is Day 25 of #BlogFlash2012 and our prompt today is Blue. You might think a colour is quite limiting, yet this one opens many doors. Here is the door it opened for me.



It’s my favourite colour, especially royal blue. Yet, there have been times in my life when blue has had a different meaning altogether.

When you lose someone very dear and you dive mindlessly and uncontrollably into grief, blue is the colour of your days, not in your physical surroundings, but in your head and mood.



It’s like being surrounded by a blue bubble. You go about your daily tasks and speak when spoken to yet your blue bubble is like your comfort zone. It was a protective layer I wrapped myself in until I was ready to face the world again.