The year 2025 started with plenty of promise for me, dear reader, with lots of material in the pipeline and several posts almost finished and ready for publication. Unfortunately it did not quite work out that way, as my long absence has probably suggested to you.
Those of you who have read my ramblings in the past will know how much I treasure my family and my friends, and how much their support over the last ten years or so has meant to me both psychologically and in practical, everyday terms. Without the support received I would have perished without a doubt, a bit of flotsam in life's ocean, remembered for a while then soon forgotten. But the support has been there, steady and unwavering, and nowhere was it more consequential than when coming from my family, most notably from my sister.
My sister and I, two very different people in personality and interests, were never buddies. Despite deep love and respect, we rarely shared interests and friends; I was always the little brother, the nuisance 'baby' that often caused trouble. But when I really needed it my sister came to my aid, offering me a place to stay and a warm bed in her home; this allowed me to catch my breath and slowly start rebuilding my life to suit my new reality. This on many an occasion was not easy, either for her or me, yet she never wavered in her support.
Two or three years ago life took an unexpected turn, as what appeared to be a painful back for my sister turned out to be cancer, opening a new chapter full of doctors, treatments, hospitals, pain and worry. As she was a formidable character we were optimistic, hoping for the best, and supported her through what appeared to be a successful first skirmish with the disease. This did not last, and early this year she showed worrying signs and eventually ended up being hospitalised; the first signs were good and it looked as if she might soon return home, on the way to recovery once again. I was not to be.
In early July this year my sister passed away in hospital and for the first time in my life I experienced a feeling of despair at her loss. Then came the feelings of emptiness as the reality of her absence hit me, followed by the realisation that my immediate family were no more. The feeling of icy loneliness is with me constantly now, though often tempered through the presence of the rest of the wider family and my many good friends; they provide comfort and inspiration not only to tackle day-to-day survival but to think of the future.
I'm no stranger to bereavement, but this one will take a while to get over. In the meantime I would like to think that telling you about it will free my mind to start writing regularly again...





