A few days, nothing much, just days, either legging it or dragging. Rain falls, wind blows, stories exchange somewhere near the vegetable aisle in the supermarket. Routines are kept or challenged, food is consumed, gardens tweaked, walks walked, admin attended to. A well known and familiar huddle of days, divided by weekends, as weekends always do. Routines dither, mealtimes shift, demands lessen, perhaps, whilst others march in like soldiers with bayonets at the ready. Clothes need washing for skool on Monday, hockey, horses, football, choir, athletics, etc. Freedom beckons for some and it is heady. Folk gather, celebrate community, a shared meal. Fun is out there.

But not for one young woman, for her daughter, her family. Her weekend was her last on this earth. Cancer is ferocious, or can be. She wasn’t even 40. When I think of that time in my life, I was strong, bonkers and never thought about dying, not at all. Death did not stalk me. Oh, I was aware of the Ferryman, for sure, but only for an old granny, or others who topped me by at least the same again. It is still almost impossible, no, impossible, to accept such a young life just stopped. Just. Like. That. But it happened and the village is quiet. There is little chat near the vegetable aisle today. We are in stasis. It isn’t about any of us, no matter if we knew her well or not, but there is a big Something about a well known someone leaving the earth, us, for ever. It makes no sense. None.

There are plenty funerals here. Small community, everyone knows everyone. But not a young life, not a young mum, not her. We will gather and mourn, but, eventually, we will all get on with our own lives, our own stuff. Not her daughter, though, not her mum and dad, her brother, her grandparents, no. They will live with the death of this young woman for, probably, ever.

I am glad I knew her, a bit. I loved her strong lively spirit, even in the early stages of this all-consuming killer. She was always upbeat. I have no idea what went on in her mind in the scary hours, but she presented a typical island woman strength when ‘out there’. I aspire to that.

RIP Sweet Girl.