goodbye for now

One of her Granny's birthday cards wished her "a better year than last." A statement which meant well - but oh dear. That was Wednesday. On Thursday her flat deal blew up in her face. All might still be well, but she spent the day between lawyers, mortgage brokers, estate agents. If not sorted by next Thursday all will return to square one. The chances are about evens. Stressful stuff. It's called the vicious British property market. Compounded by inefficiency and buck-passing, all the way down the line. Believe me, you don't want to hear about it.

In the meantime; worse and worse and worse; much worse; not that she knew it till the following morning. Her ex-husband, father of her children, suffered a massive stroke and died three hours or so later. A total shock - he wasn't so very old, left a still youngish wife and a sixteen year old daughter. This is apart from Granny's son and daughter, both a lot older than that. Anyone who has been divorced with grown-up or not grown-up children, will know the emotions aroused by such events, even not when arriving so suddenly, so shockingly. Along with the grief and shock, comes the weight of history; anger, guilt, bitter and good memories, past and present misunderstandings, endlessly painful soups, miasmas, cauldrons of complications, in which all those immersed have to struggle, feebly, as best they can. Even anonymously, these are not - many of them are not - Granny's griefs to write about. Even if she could describe them, she wouldn't know how to. She wouldn't want to. She shouldn't even try to. She is not going to.

It will be a while before the dust settles. Meantime, for the foreseeable future, if not for ever, this blog is closed.