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Our February Pastoral Letter
       is provided by

       Canon Kersten Kirkland. OStM, sicm
       of Wareham URC

       A Changeable Life.

       This time last year for me was a very different time, in just about every
       way.  December 28th came with some very upsetting news for my partner
       about her closest friend of some twenty years that unfortunately cost her
       the friendship and placed her firmly in times of darkness. January fared
       no better as we received the news that her mum was dying of cancer and
       had only months to live.  In a way it distracted from the already ongoing
       turmoil in her life as we made the decision to head to Plymouth until
       further notice and be part of the palliative care for her mum. Despite the
       sadness and the air of death in the house there were good times,
       laughing times, remembering times and above all many thankful times.

       My mother-in-law was a very blunt, brash, and incredibly funny lady, who
       tormented the hospice carers day after day until they laughed along with
       her, and told us that she wasn't the usual end of life care patient they
       usually dealt with.  We all shared life, laughter,  jokes, family stories and
       chocolate in abundance. It was a very inspirational experience lasting six
       weeks until she passed away peacefully on March 7th.

       Suddenly our daily purpose had gone and the issues from the start of the
       year surfaced once more.

       On Sunday the 10th March 2024, Mothering Sunday, we were driving
       home for a week's break before returning to Plymouth for the funeral and
       my best friend Margaret Leivesley was preaching at Sutton Rd URC. I
       texted her at 4.15 pm to say we were five minutes from home and that I
       couldn't wait to see her on Tuesday as I hadn't seen her for six weeks.
       She replied to say she was excited also and she was glad I was back,
       she would call me Monday.

       I thought it very bizarre that on Monday she hadn't called, and she was
       not replying to my messages and then at 5 pm I received the worst news.
       The previous evening, within two hours of texting me she suffered a
       catastrophic brain haemorrhage and was rushed to Southampton
       Neurological Unit for emergency surgery. The bottom was now falling out
       of my world. We raced there as fast as we could and saw her for ten
       minutes, during which the consultant told us that she WOULD NOT
       survive this, she would pass away before the week was out.

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