like swallowing glass

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Just after my last post below,  the boy below,  was raised up off his feet and sent to a place beyond.

Nobody wanted it.

No one was prepared for it.

No one should experience the death of a child.

Michael

Michael was my Godson. His Mother, my childhood friend.

Grief is a dark and heavy load indeed…. Michael was 15 years when he passed away.

I was blessed to know him and thankful to be able to say goodbye properly.

My stories have distracted and hopefully, in some small way, soothed the jagged hearts of his smaller sister and brother over past 15 months.   I have never had a personal illustration of how powerful storytelling can be, I got into this because it was fun and a bit of an oddly interesting thing to do.   Story’s ability to transport the listener and teller to somewhere other than here (and yet seems strangely comforting) is a truly incredible thing.

It’s for that reason that I’ve got back on my storyhorse and am now breaking from a trot to a canter.

Thanks Michael Valentine, you’re still making things happen.

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