Today after my dog walk round the park, I once again sat on my favourite tree by the gates. Sitting right next to the road where my mother, my aunt, and I know my grandfather walked to school on the then dirt track.
Where on his way to school he used to go scrumping apples from the then orchard where I am now sitting. Where my great-grandmother also had walked to that same school well over 120 years ago. My great-grandparents and my great-great-grandparents probably also walking past this spot on their way to church for several decades.
Where my family had been living since 1875, always less than 130 metres from my house!
As I sat there, on this spot that connects me to them, I once again thought about my ancestors and the many times I've prayed for them to support me, give me the strength I need to continue.
And I realised sometimes that's all we have left... prayer.
Many people on my brain tumour group say they are sending prayers to others, many say they pray themselves, that praying gives them strength and it's there when there is nothing else left.
It doesn't matter to me of you call it God Allah, Jesus, Grace or the Divine Source . The intention is the same.
The knowing there is a bigger plan is the same.
The love is the same.
And with that thought and the tears rolling down my face, a robin appeared in the branches of the tree I was sitting. Singing its amazing song. Stretching its body, up and down to balance itself against the movement of the branch in the wind. trying to keep its balance. Going with the flow of life...
Prayer and nature, sometimes it's all we've got.
But sometimes it's all we need. 🙏🌱💖💫
My Great-Grandparents My Grandad riding (backwards!) on the road at the side of the park!
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