Six intense days in Belfast

This blog gets ever more sporadic. This last month has been dominated by the illness and death of my mother in Belfast, so I haven't really been inspired to commit fingers to keyboard.

It's been a weird time. All compressed into just a few weeks. First knowing that, bar a remarkable miracle, her condition was terminal and her time would be short, which led into a time of waiting, visiting, phoning, trying to work, but mostly waiting. Then the final couple of days (we'd flown over the night before she died - an answer to our prayer that the timing would somehow be right) and the funeral and thanksgiving service - arranging, attending. Lots of the wider family around and, as usual when we get together, lots of laughter, this time mixed with sadness. Six intense days in Belfast when Manchester seemed like another existence. Strange... but rich. And God's understanding-bypassing peace somewhere in the mix. It was good to be together with everyone, but as my sister remarked, we shouldn't wait until the next death or wedding before we do it again! Like Joni said: "You don't know what you've got till it's gone." Note to self... make more time for what really matters.