I have six crows lined up on the wire outside my window at the moment and I was reminded of that old poem I knew as a child.
One for sorrow,
two for joy,
three for a girl,
four for a boy,
five for silver,
six for gold,
seven for a secret never to be told,
eight for a wish,
nine for a kiss,
ten for a time of joyful bliss.
I don't view such things as portents but I am reminded that I can see that for the past few days that gold has sprinkled my life.
I've had so much support in your comments and personal emails. I took an entire day off and contemplated what I should do.
And the answer as midnight struck was very simple indeed: Absolutely nothing.
Why worry this person unnecessarily with my observations of deteriorating health?
It would serve no purpose whatsoever apart from adding to their already huge stress and other health issues. And what can they do?
What can I do?
Be loving and supportive and work my way around whatever presents itself. I have had practice with my dear friend Lana and prior to her with Chuck.
Staying in the moment. Counting crows. Cherishing the gold - particularly with the support I get from all of you out there. Your words meant so much in a time of terrible distress and worry.
Thank you seems hugely inadequate.