Gentle Giant Pat.❤️

Pat was a resident in the High Support Hostel where I worked for a time. Tall silent gent and apart from 'Thank you' whenever I served his meals, he spoke no word. Pat was well accustomed to being ignored and overlooked, he knew no warmth from staff, in fact they were wary of him. 

Pat struck out at a fellow client one time who pestered him for a cigarette yet again, and so he was deemed dangerous. He spoke no word in his own defence, he didn’t expect to be listened to and he was probably right! Pat was fragile, beautiful, and deeply hurt by uncaring unaware folk up and down the long years.

With the passage of time, Pat began to trust me, we never had any long conversations but we were happy to be in each other’s company. When the High Support Hostel closed, Pat got his very own apartment, he had carers but he lived independently. I got to witness his delightful smile for the first time ever, gentle Pat was happy and free. When I asked where his sunshine smile had been hiding all this time, he whispered: ‘I don’t know’. 

I saw him out walking with his two Carer ladies one day, ladies walking ahead chatting and laughing, Pat trailing along behind slowly, ignored as always. Carer ladies sadly missing out on a golden opportunity of a lifetime.

Last time I met Pat, I gifted him cigarette money. Pat’s gift to me - his delightful brand-new smile brighter than a thousand suns. Last words we exchanged on this earth: ‘Will you pray for me Pat’ - ‘I will’.

Pat died unexpectedly that night, God rest his gentle soul. Next day, when I heard the sad news, I wrote in my journal:  ‘Last night, Pat died suddenly, unnoticed by everyone but God. No one saw Pat leave this world, everyone saw him arrive in the next’.

Pat had the last place in this world and now he has a high place in Heaven. ‘He casts the mighty from their thrones and raises the lowly’. (Luke 1:52)

Thank you Pat for gracing me with your presence and so much more, you are forever in my heart. Because of you, I know who God is.

‘One has not lived in vain who learns to be unruffled by loss, by gain, by joy, by pain’.
 (Angelus Silesius)

‘Some people feel the rain - Others just get wet. (Bob Marley) ☔️

I love walking in the rain, feeling of newness, being washed clean. I love the criss/cross streams on the road, little rivulets going about their business. No wonder the Indians call rain ‘Liquid Sunshine’

I keep it to myself, my love affair with rain, and with very good reason. It rains a lot in this place and  conditions are oftentimes nigh impossible for the poor farmer. It can be burdensome too for folk who desperately need light and heat to keep their mood upbeat and positive. Then there are those who love to gripe and so the persistent rain is a useful tool to keep themselves miserable.

Growing up in the country, I whiled many wonderful hours away with my beautiful Dad. After God and before my boys, he was my most favourite person and best influence for good in my life. Dad was a simple fisherman/farmer - simple in the most wonderful way. He loved the sea - ‘One must always respect the sea’, he would say. 

He loved interesting conversations where he gleaned wisdom from someone older and wiser than himself and he loved to pass it on to us, his children. He loved nature and I fondly remember walking in the rain by his side. With Dad the mundane was always magical. ‘Never be without your Holy Bible, Atlas and Dictionary’, he would tell us and to this day my ancient atlas is on my bookcase. My Holy Bible is my treasure. My dictionary is never too far away. 

I remember clearly, Dad gutting mackerel and pollack, lots of them, at our humble kitchen table, late into the night and suddenly shouting with glee - ‘The one I’ve been waiting for’. Us children, filled with curiosity, shouted ‘Why that one, Dad’ and his reply: ‘The last one’, relieved in his terrible tiredness.

Then one day, I learned that I had won a scholarship to a Boarding School in another county. My Dad dearly valued education and wished, with all his beautiful heart, for us, his children, to enjoy what he never had. I understood that very well but the thought of leaving home filled me with a deep painful loneliness. ‘Will you go Bridge’, he asked. ‘I would miss you too much Dad’, I replied. I didn’t go, I attended Secondary School in our local town instead.

My Dad lived five years more, the length of time I would have been in Boarding school. Without a shadow of a doubt I made the right decision and I am so grateful to him for accepting it. I learned more about life just by being near my wonderful Dad than I could ever have learned from the most eminent mentor. Dad had a degree in simplicity, kindness and wonder, he possessed humility and nobility. 

Nowadays, as I spend valuable time with my beautiful folk in St. Anne’s Nursing Home, I am super grateful to God for my life, surrounded and loved by folk who don’t just talk the talk - they walked the walk every step.

Today is your forty fifth Anniversary, dear Dad. You didn’t die, you never will. You live forever in my heart and with God in Heaven.

‘He taught me the things that every child should know, things about gardens - how to plant and sow.

 A love of walking, striding stick in hand, down the green ways of Nature’s Wonderland’.

 (To my Father - Patience Strong)

He had no great possessions. With wealth he was not blessed. No riches for his children, but this was his bequest: he left them all the glories of dawn and sunset skies, the woods, the brooks, the meadows, birds, bees and butterflies. The salt wind on the marshes, the blossom on the tree, the flowers, the fruit, the sunshine. This was his legacy’. (Patience Strong)

Clever Crows.🦅

My carefree crows congregating on the tall trees at the end of my garden, cacophony of sound wafting it’s way through my open window, I love them with all my heart. New babies born, big excitement. I love the way there’s always one crow watching over each nest at all times, making sure babies are safe and sound, as they chat across with one another, swapping baby tips from their strategic perches. After a time, when the babies are strong enough to fend for themselves, I love how they fly together, parents and children, singing and shouting for joy, loving every minute of the august gift that is Life.

‘O come let us sing to the Lord! Let us make a joyful noise to the rock of our salvation. Let us come into His Presence with thanksgiving; Let us make a joyful noise to Him with songs of praise! (Psalm 94:1)

Just when I am certain they are fast asleep and all is hushed in crow land, off they go again in a burst of radiant exuberance. Their joie de vivre fills me with gratitude to God for the wonderful Gift that is Life. They teach me that no day is an ordinary day, every day is a new day, never to be repeated. That Life is a priceless precious gift from Father God, a sublime adventure to be lived and enjoyed, and not a prickly problem to be endured.

‘Said the sparrow to the robin, ‘I’d really like to know, what motivates those foolish mortals, as they rush around and worry so. Said the robin to the sparrow, ‘I think that it must be, they have no Heavenly Father, such as cares for you and me’ (Elizabeth Cheney)

‘Let all creation help you to praise God. Give yourself the rest you need. When you are walking alone, listen to the sermon preached to you by the flowers, the trees, the shrubs, the sky, the sun and the whole world. Notice how they preach to you a sermon full of Love, of praise of God, and how they invite you to proclaim the greatness of the One who has given them being’.                                                                    (St. Paul of the Cross)