Salbo's Funeral Day

 Today, the 20th of January 2021 is the day we send My Sister Sally (Stella) on her final journey. She was much loved by all who knew her as the friendly, kindly, animal/bird loving individual that she was. She had experienced many worries and troubles durng the last ten years of her life when medical conditions forced her to give up work and then BATTLE with the DWP to receive the help she was most certainly entitled to after working virtually every day of her life since leaving school in 1970.

She was made to feel like an imposter/fraudster/scrounger and any other name they could think of at the time which sent her into a spiral of depression which she only 'just' managed to pull herself out of by the time she reached retirement age. Thankfully, she 'was' entitled to a good pension and with other benefits now offered to her she started to really rebuild her life again, until Murpheys Law thrust a dagger into her heart with a diagnosis of Cancer which took hold very quickly - too quickly it seems.

Now, she's at peace with all of those family and friends who've gone before her and we expect her to be caring for others even up there in the 'good place' :-)

Thinking of you every day Salbo as you take that 'Final Journey'. 

This Poem by Ven Bunce seems appropriate somehow;

 

Journey.

A light came screaming

through the door of solid oak.

The brass bolts and hinges still all fixed.

A thousand fit, strong strangers

had been beating at that door.

But it never gave an inch that you could tell.

 

Flames were thrown.

The axe was wielded.

All in vein it seems.

Just then, a light came screaming.

I felt I must be dreaming,

as it filtered through

and lightened up my mind.

 

Crystals were vibrating

to a sound of pure vision.

A rainbow chased a diamond o’er the floor.

A shimmering mist was growing.

A blue light now was showing

the diamond and the rainbow at the door.

 

They were both warm and friendly

as they offered me their trust.

They would guide me through

where angels fear to tread.

The Reaper started smiling

as only he knows how.

The light of life had entered

where nothing else would go.

It started then to put on such a show.

 

The Diamond played the lead

and the Crystals played the score.

The Rainbow coloured in reality.

The blue mist of love

filled the Reapers heart with joy.

Made him smile as he saw it all unfold.

 

The light of life shone on me

through a door of solid oak.

My protector, for so many years.

I imagined that the reaper had a heart so cold.

But now I know he truly has a heart of gold.

 

As I pull the brass bolts,

and push the door back wide,

a thousand fit strong strangers smile and say.

“We’ve been knocking here a lifetime,

just to brighten up your life”.

“Come with us, and we will make your day”

 

The smiles, I’ve imagined

in their thousands at the door.

But now I’ve seen the light show

I will surely know the score.

 

The diamond and the rainbow

keep these strangers mesmerised.

As I walk right past,

I smile, and agree.

The beautiful vibrations

of the crystals quell the fear.

The blue mist leads the way so I can see.

 

Now I’m going home to greet,

all those who’ve always loved me.

But left me, oh so soon behind the door.

The glory of the pure light,

has offered me its sanctum.

Where I shall live

and love

forever more.

 

God Bless Salbo .......

 

  

 

 

 

R.I.P Sally/Salbo' ..........

 On the Morning of December the 31st 2020, the worst year in Living memory took it's final revenge by closing the doors on my younger Sister Stella, also known as Sally and Salbo'.

She was diagnosed a month ago with liver and stomach cancer after having X-rays for a Hernia but was given a fairly good prognosis which told her it was 'Incurable But Manageable', so when she was admitted to hospital she was fully expecting to be treated and sent back home in the new year. Sadly, things went south and she unexpectedly lost her fight.

We are ALL Shocked! as it's such a waste of a lovely Soul.


Memories, Like Autumn Leaves.

When we are young, our memory is being fed with all very new sights, sounds and emotions. Everything is young, tender and vulnerable. Just like the young buds on a tree in spring.

As we get older and start to grow through the summer of our life, our memories are filled to over-flowing. They’re vibrant, clear and passionate. Just like the flora and fruits of our maturing summer plumage on our tree.

Late summer, and the fruit ripens and starts to fall to ground. Just like our memories. Starting to fade now with every passing minute of the day.

Late autumn and those fresh, vibrant, bright green leaves have turned brown, golden, red and yellow. They are falling dead from our tree. Our memories, disappearing as if they’d never existed in the first place.

Summer holidays, birthdays and happy days. Sad days and violent days, crumbling into dust as mother nature takes back what’s ‘Hers’ in the first place.

Winter arrives, and there are still just a very few leaves clinging on to the sparse, withered branches that gave them so much life earlier in the year. But come the frost, the snow, the rain and the wind to eventually ‘flush’ them from all existence. Just like our memories.

People may think writing down our memories as being a futile gesture at self recognition. I find, as each day passes, memories that were so crisp just a few short years ago, are now ‘gone’. Never to be retrieved from the hard drive of my life. So….I’m writing them down in a futile attempt that they can cling onto the withering branches of life for a little while longer.

The memories? They’re mine, all mine. They’re mine to share with my family, friends and any strangers that care to look up and see them. They may be old, discoloured and brittle right now. But once they were just young vulnerable buds, being nurtured by mother nature.

Herself a ‘free spirit’ of which we are all a part.

'Memories Like Autumn Leaves' is from a book of the same name which is FREE! at the website of Ven Bunce - 

http://venbunce.com