Finding a Cure for Chilblains

The weather is grey, interspersed with sunshine. A little like life really. My feet get cold, so cold they feel numb. My brain seems to follow the same pattern these days. Warming my feet by the fire, I risk chilblains and wonder if the constant searching for sunshine for my brain will risk me being left with chilblains on the brain! It does though, doesn’t it? With the pain, sense of loss and anger of the last few weeks I know the chilblains on my brain will heal but I also know they will leave their mark. I guess that is what makes me the person I am and the one I will become. If I give in to anger and bitterness, all is lost.

Following on from the murder of our friend, one of my girlfriends died last week, she had fought long and hard against cancer. She was so determined to live. She loved life, her young son and her husband and always had a smile on her face. The only self-doubt I ever heard her have was when we met for a drink and she took me into the Ladies and removed her hat. 'Look Mary', she said looking tearfully at her head. 'It had grown back so beautifully and now I look like a badger'. I hugged her, rubbed the patchy skull and told her it would grow back again when she had beaten this second round of treatment. I lied and deep down we both knew I had. We never talked about her dying; she told me she did not consider it an option. I will miss her; she could drink some Guinness that girl.

I have my moments when things seem futile. I am left with another layer of life heaped into my head. Having mulled things over for a few days, I know I was lucky to have known the two people who have now moved onto another place I have yet to discover. I learnt a lot from knowing them. I need to take their examples of courage, compassion, hope and kindness and use what they taught me to make a difference in my own life and the lives of my own family and friends. If I let anger, misery and bitterness wrap their icy fingers round my brain, I will never cure the chilblains in my head.