Friday and I pan an easy day, so as my partner goes off to the gym I laze in bed and check my vitals. All is good there and then I spend sometime thinking about what I am going to do with my next poetry collection. Of course it leads me to write a poem and in doing so it gives me the tittle of my next collection. I decide it will be called, the Cancer Years; ordinary brave.

445
There’s a lot written
about being brave, 
lots of slogans
and wise sayings 
but none seem to 
quite fit.

No one asks to be
Cancer brave,
it’s an unwanted
accolade.

Quietly many men
and their loved ones
get on with things, 
each being brave 
in their own way. 

There is no media fanfare
or out pouring of admiration,
nor is there a rush to do things,
fund raise or join a movement,
just the soft tread through the fear.

If there are tears 
they are shed privately
once the mundane is done 
and there is a quiet moment
to reflect.

Anger is dissipated 
gently, released in gardens,
and in putting things 
in order in consideration
of those to be left behind.

It is the resilience unexpectedly 
found in the depths
that makes us brave
in ways that can only 
be ours.

Ordinary people being 
ordinary brave
in ordinary ways
with one eye 
on the end of
our days.


                                                  445  02-05-2025

I get up and get into my training gear. After a bagel breakfast I head for the garage and the rower. Its been 7 days since I last trained due to a combination of weekend and injection. Its got to be a meaningful session so I go for a forty five minute session. Its a real pig of a session and although I try to pace myself the end of the session is a real grind. I manage just over 8 kilometres so it could have been worse. It will do for a session after a weeks break.

I record the session and then eat my lunch on the patio with my partner. After a chat my partner and I go to the local garden centre and pick up so gardening essentials. Once home my partner sets to in the garden and I start to draw up my partners family tree starting with my partners mothers side. It takes me ages to get all the people mentioned into the right generational line and then to sort out which line each person belongs to. The information is jumbled and there appears to be one or two people who do not fit the tree. I get as far as I can and before dinner is served I replenish my dosettes for the next two weeks.

The evening sees me drafting the blog while having one eye on the TV. Its going to be a lazy evening. tomorrow our village will be celebrating VE day so I expect there will be military vehicles rolling around and people doing strange things in uniform. Already there are poles appearing along the road so there will be unexpected informative boards everywhere. Rumour has it that there will be a fly past. I hope I can sleep with all the excitement, or maybe its just the desperation of having a Reform dominated county council. I go to bed full of meds and a sense of foreboding.