Kate called. She’d seen on Facebook which she dips in to occasionally (healthy girl). I always want to record Kate’s words since I forgot the ones she gave to me that shifted and opened another vista. They’d done their work, but I wanted a reminder. Gone. 'It’s important to know, Rachel, that it was an accident.… Continue reading Imo by Kate
Category: Death
Imo
Dearest Lovely Louise Reeling from the news of Imo - and you - I write to you finally. Reeling you must be too. Oh my love, what a body blow. And how is your body? I hear snippets, thankfully from the faithful Dan, that you were both in the accident, run over, that Imo did… Continue reading Imo
Gerd
Dear Kamala and Lea I’ve just seen and heard the wonderful video link of the ceremony for Gerd at The Garden at the Hermitage of the Awakened Heart. What a blessing to have this opportunity to be with you virtually - whoever arranged this, my grateful thanks. The bird song in the background, the Tibetan… Continue reading Gerd
Pat Raine’s funeral (April 2016)
Linda and I walked to the stones. Limestone? Through copses of woodland, left wild, ivy allowed to dally up tree trunks. Wood anemone carpet the floor. In a second copse an unusual yew wood, and old stone that would have made something, a wall of a house in it's abandoned fallen pile, soft moss covering, returning… Continue reading Pat Raine’s funeral (April 2016)
Pat – remembering her
I remember Pat as being a constant in our family. She was Claire’s friend. She came every Sunday evening and would arrive, dressed in blue, never trousers, her long legs in blue tights, with buckle shoes, a pressed shirt with a brave usually interesting broach holding her neck collar tight. She’d sit in the wing… Continue reading Pat – remembering her
Langer for Toby’s send off
After the long drive, small dog walk, we stretched our legs down Langer moat. I hadn’t seen the notice before, but noticed now: it could have been Toby’s concept. ‘Nature is dangerous, if anyone falls, or drowns, F..K off. At your own peril.’ Louise, my fellow walker in grief, dressed in a Monsoon Indian dress,… Continue reading Langer for Toby’s send off
Bob’s last party at Ph’s barn
The evening at Ph’s barn, was magic. Most had left, few came, mostly locals, but also Pete Sinclair and Bev, who’d filmed with Bob in Kathmandu and attempted to film the Haj with him in the early 1970’s. Here in a Suffolk farm barn, with firey space heaters to warm, we drank Ann Dingwells paid for wine,… Continue reading Bob’s last party at Ph’s barn
Post Bob’s funeral to Louise
Darling one - LOVED your words. I read them now, end of day, the house empty but for my incongruous flat mate, in between lives of lover and ex’s,who sits and checks facebook, tells me it's cold outside, while I busy around, washing up, hovering, walking dog. Giggled like a school girl, with the ego on… Continue reading Post Bob’s funeral to Louise
Eve of Bob’s funeral
The eve of Bobs send of, the clan of diverse friends are gathering. We put into the table our stories, most often the first meeting. Ruth when she was 25, could not box him. Sarah told a story of Bob being flustered, afraid, but he was never afraid she concluded. Yes, says Louise, he was… Continue reading Eve of Bob’s funeral
Kalikellett 