All you who read this blog know that I have trouble with change. Not the little changes that meet us every day like biscuit mix moving from aisle 2 to aisle 4 but the changes that make the scenery of our lives look like slowly falling dominoes. One , two , three four changes and I quiver, five, six, seven and I fall. Well I think I am about at number four again.

Today we had the reunion lunch of our little church group, exactly a month after the closure. We all gathered for a bring your own lunch at a tiny hired hall close by. It was wonderful to see the old familiar faces once more. All went well until someone suggested we all give a "report" on what had happened since the closure. One of our younger men stood up and gave us a spirited speech on how much he liked the move he had made to the other church in our old parish, how good it was, how welcome he felt. I would have believed him if he hadn't been addressing half a cream cake in the middle of the table and screwing a paper napkin round and round in his hands. Something tells me he is not telling the truth here.

Others said they have been to one church or another around the area, some have decided that they will go to this or that service, all admitted to missing the fellowship we used to share. No-one wanted to admit they saw the gap widening as time goes by but it was fairly obvious that to some it feels like the aftermath of a divorce and they are still shaken by the experience. One older lady burst into tears and a couple of others left the room. Of course about a third didn't come at all and one or two said to me on the phone that they couldn't face having to leave old friends behind again, they thought it just added to the emotional feelings they already have. The hugs at the end were a little too hard, as when you know you won't see someone again and you part at the end of any family reunion.

I came home to a telephone call to say a dear friend was in hospital. Now this man is full of years and is sick in the kind of way older folk are, a bit of heart failure, kidneys not functioning properly, hard of hearing, breathing problems etc. We love him dearly but at his age such things are to be expected. But I don't want him to die right now as I am the one arranging his funeral. So I hope he stays for a while until I feel I can cope. No, I don't want him on life supports I am not that selfish. I just want him to respond to the antibiotics.

Also had a call from one of the people involved in assessing Ray at the Community Stroke Support Group. She said he has two more assessments to do, one physical, one neurological. They are to take place next week. One we have an appointment for with our regular neurologist, the other she will do. This is the way we do things in Australia, by assessment and recommendation. It takes the responsibility out of the hands of the caregiver to a certain extent. I can't ask my doctor to do these tests, he hasn't the time so they happen as part of the assessment process. I wonder how Ray will do as he is showing more signs of the dementia now. Still early signs, just more of them.

Today at the hall he told me he couldn't go to the toilets because a sign said they were out of order. What the sign actually said was that they were closed. The hall users have keys to open them. So when I asked him to go to the toilet he got flustered and yelled at me: "I can't, the toilets don't work here." Luckily most people had left by then. But I could see the open door from where I was sitting so knew they were open. He could too. Just another sign that he is not processing information.

I am having our grand daughter for a sleepover on Thursday night, her Mum needs a break, she is in the last two months of her pregnancy and is getting very tired. I don't mind as it is one of the things I so like doing. It gives me an opportunity to go to the park and have a swing, to do wild gypsy dancing wearing long beads and swinging a scarf around my head. There are things you can do in the presence of a four year old that you would be certified for if you did them on Main Street.

My life is a happy-sad mix, just like everyone elses. The storm comes in and I ride the wild waves, sometimes spending longer than I want holding on with my fingertips to those things that bring reassurance - friendship, faith, family. Don't hold your breath, waiting for the next exciting episode, this is not a soap opera, this is my life.