That day I dismantled Farmville and all its contents into the great Facebook void! Now THAT was a good decision! What a time-waster!
My time would now be given to blogging, and I would try and devote alternate days to factual stuff, and thoughts about what was and has been going on in my life!
Some reflections today. Brought up in Northern Ireland to be a ‘good Brethren girl’, but (fortunately for me!) it didn’t ‘take’!! However, with a domineering mother threatening breakdowns if I didn’t toe the line, I put on a good show. I even tried to make sense of it all! But no, it didn’t work for me. The Catholics living near me seemed to be perfectly normal and charming people, not people to be ostracized! If they ‘out-bred the protestants’ as my grandmother seemed to find a problem, so what! Bullied at the Prep school that my father had gone to, I was sent to the local Primary School, where I had a Presbyterian teacher who I adored, and I discovered that Presbies had the same Bible and hymns…huh?? Seemed they planned to go to the same heaven too when they died, although P.B.s (Brethren people) thought they were the only ones going there – so what’s the problem? Resenting deeply having to be a minority denomination, I informed my family I would never marry a ‘PB’!! Woo-hoo!! Seriously, better not to marry at all, to my mind!
But then I met Chris (whose mother had Brethren connections and was well known and thought well of in my own family circle. His parents were missionaries, after all! But he was following a similar path, wondering about the Northern Ireland Christian/Protestant attitude.
Apart from my mother having a breakdown on the wedding day (due to stress? the fact that he was a Presbyterian? whatever….) and went off to the mental hospital there and then, we were happily married, and set off to London for a honeymoon in Tunisia. Sadly this was not to be, as Chris had his appendix removed that night.
14 years of happy marriage and 3 lovely children later, Chris was diagnosed with leukemia. His brother was a bone marrow match, and they did the transplant, but sadly it failed and I was left a widow at the age of 36, already diagnosed with rheumatoid arthritis.
At this point we were attending the local Presbyterian church, at which Chris had attended healing services. A degree of cynicism was setting in. But people rallied round and were supportive in a very human way, and I developed a friendship of sorts with many of them. I even went for healing of my arthritis (with not much faith and no positive effects!) And so we continued as a family, surrounded by friends in our small town community.
To be continued….