The Country Celebrant and The Country Carer

The Country Celebrant and Carer:  Loss Here we go again, preparing to celebrate the family are gathering the presents are bought and wrapped. But under the tree and in my heart there is a hole so small and dark that only I can see it. Sometimes I lose myself for a moment and the hole is diminished but mainly it pulsates with pain and loss. I can smooth the edges with light and warmth I can fill the void with laughter but the cold creeps back and the laughter fades away. Where are you?  Are you safe and sound? Do you look at us from your eyrie? Can you hear our dreams and see our wishes? I would turn back the clock I would rekindle your fire that burnt so bright I would walk a thousand steps to see you again. To hear your words and see your smile to share a hug and be with you again would make my day complete. In the meantime, I will smile and nod and remember you in my heart and look for you in the shared memories that we have.

The Country Celebrant  So here we are, the middle of January already; the United Kingdom has been buffeted by a series of storms that have swelled the rivers until they burst, leaving people with a deluge of mud and silt and detritus to clear away. We have lost icons of the stage and film and on a personal level we have, undoubtedly, lost people who mean the world to us; ordinary people who made no momentous contribution to the world but who shaped us by the very fact that we knew them. I was told the story of a cowman who taught a child to care for calves, to rear those orphaned, by hand - dipping her hand into a bucket of warm milk and allowing the calf to suck her fingers until it got the hang of how to drink.     I remember doing that as a child, I remember the rasp of the tongue on my fingers and the anticipation of a bite.  A calf does not bite, he does not have the teeth to do so. I am preparing for a new journey in my life; I have one son living on the ...