Bryan's uncle is dying and it would be a good idea for Bryan to go to see him as soon as possible. His family have been on the phone asking when he can be there, but it's Katy's surgery tomorrow and he can't be in two places at once. Today Katy is a bit withdrawn and snappy and hasn't been sleeping well (so no-one else has been sleeping well) and so I am sure that she understands more about tomorrow's events than she lets on. She knows she's sleeping at the hospital and she knows that she'll go to sleep and when she wakes up her bump will be gone, so what she's concluding about the middle bit I don't know.
My Mum is poorly and I'm worried about her. She is trying to pretend that she's fine but it's clear that she isn't. What's happening to everyone round me? I feel as if I can't look after everyone at the same time but I have to. Things are bad every way I look at the moment.
I don't know what to do if Mum is ill. She has been such a prop to me these last few weeks. In fact always, she's been there. She always has been. She is my best friend in so many ways; if I can be to my girls what my Mum is to me I will feel that I have done alright. She's been wonderful at holding the fort throughout all the rubbish these last few weeks; she's looked after whichever child hasn't been at an appointment, she's looked after both when it's been me. The washing miraculously gets fetched in when I forget (and put out as well, quite often) and the plants in the greenhouse get watered when I've not had a chance.
I have no idea what I would do without her. Since my Dad died suddenly nearly six years ago, just before Elizabeth was born, I am paranoid that other people I love will die unexpectedly too. I always worried about my parents as they are getting older but until Dad's death I assumed that when the end came I would see it coming. Now I have a huge fear of losing people. I have dreams about it, I worry about it and the slightest thing starts off my anxiety.
I worry that if I take my eye off the ball for a few seconds everything will come crashing down. Tomorrow I have to take my eye off the ball as I need to be at the hospital with Katy and focused on her. I might be gone all night.
Lord, I feel so anxious now. Help me. My husband's uncle is gravely ill and not expected to last the weekend, my Mum is poorly, and my youngest daughter is having a general anaesthetic tomorrow for the excision and biopsy of this strange lump that's been confounding the doctors for two months. Over the past months we've been to more doctors and hospital appointments between us than I could count. I'm not sure I can take another thing. I can't handle one more thing going wrong. Please lighten this load a bit, Father God, because I've kept going and kept going and now I feel as if I'm sinking.
I feel as if I have to keep my grip or else I'll be lost. This morning I sat out in the sun first thing with a cup of coffee and tried to gather my thoughts and say hello, how are you to you. The sky was blue, the little blackbird was around somewhere but I couldn't see him, and it was a good five minutes before the children came to find me. That little oasis of peace was lovely.
I didn't really chat with you for long but I smiled at the warmth of the sun on my face and I took a photograph of some flowers next to me and then I pointed the camera up at the sky and photographed the sun. Seconds later it went behind a cloud - and the girls burst out into the garden and the peace was shattered. How symbolic was that? Little did I know that things were going to get worse later.
Every time I get a glimpse of the sun a bloody great cloud blots it out again.
Every time I rally after some disaster has befallen our family, something else comes along. When is it going to end, Lord? Stop it please. I don't know what your game is but I've had enough and I don't want to play any more. Please, please, just stop all this crap from piling up round me. I can't do it any more. I just want to go to bed and pull the curtains on and sleep and sleep and sleep and when I wake up all this will have gone away. Please make it stop, Lord.
In the garden the little blackbird is sitting on the ground basking in the sun. He has his wings outstretched to feel the warmth of the sun and he is just relaxing. He's picked a fairly duff spot to bask in as it's right in front of a flower bed that the numerous local cats seem to love; I hope he doesn't get picked off right in front of me by that ginger tom that hangs around all the time. That would just make my day.
Maybe he trusts you, Father. Maybe that's a little message to me.
Or maybe its just a stupid blackbird.