Tuesday, 29 July 2008

Closed Until Further Notice

For the present time, I'm closing this blog for the reasons explained in the post below. Those of you who have read me for long enough understand what I mean why I speak about my friend. His father's condition is described as 'stable' but the doctors believe it's pneumonia. He isn't awake but this is apparently normal for this condition. It is, however, a matter of waiting.

I thank you for your support, both now but over the last year. I would just ask you to prey for a very kind man who we love very dearly.

14 comments:

katyboo1 said...

I look forward to seeing you again soon. Hopefully in happier circumstances.
Kx

percy stilton said...

I wish you well

Barbara said...

I hope your friend's father feels better soon, and I'm sure he will.

Jerry Caesar said...

Hello Richard - I hope everything goes as well as it can, for all concerned. Here's hoping for health and happiness.
Best wishes

Posh Totty said...

Thinking of everyone concerned Xxx

Lord James Bigglesworth said...

Yes, this is the most difficult one. Thoughts with you and him.

Devonshire Dumpling said...

Re the "A friend Writes" post - I read it and wept. Back came memories of those wonderful family and friends of a person that they loved who was desperately ill in hospital who I was nursing and caring for their visitors too. I so wish comments to new posts were still allowed as I am sure nobody expects Richard to answer, but it is frustrating to read and not comment under a particular post, if the comments were left there and available when Richard has time to read them (replying comes far later) he would be finding backing, concern, sympathy, understanding - all of which can be invaluable when the healthy are visiting the sick.

Please allow comments - Richard and Judy will read them when they have time. Nobody expects either of them to keep their blog up to date right now, but please don't gag us from commenting!

Selena Dreamy said...

I am convinced that each of us is a participant in creating the future. And even though the best wishes we can offer are still full of uncertainties, I think they’re better than silence...

...may they therefore be a source of strength for you and yours Richard!

Welsh Girl said...

I just read todays post. I understand you don't want comments - you have so much to deal with right now. I wanted to tell you that our parents are always proud of us, as much for the people we are as for the things we do. Thinking of yourself at the moment isn't wrong; it's a way of realising how much those around us mean to us.

I so hope that your father gets better, and that he will soon be back at the garden fence, or making more wonderful tools for evey circumstance!

xx

Princess said...

I hope all is well for the family, my thoughts are with you at this time as I know how it is going through these hard times , Get well soon My prayers are with you all xx

Nige said...

On no, I'm so so sorry. I came late to this, and the post above. ..
I think, whatever age we are, as long as our parents are alive, they are somehow like the two poles of our worlds/ selves. When my father died, it felt as if one pole had gone, sending me spinning in strange space, out of orbit. But eventually, after the work of grief, you do find your orbit again, your equilibrium - it will come back, however hard it may be to believe that now. You'll be in my thoughts...

Black Cat said...

I am so sorry Richard, this is just how I felt when my mother was very ill in hospital. My thoughts and sympathies are with you all.

Dick Madeley said...

Thank you, all of you, for your kind words. They are helping 'my friend' enormously.

Charles Lambert said...

My father died just over two years ago. He was almost 101, which meant that many people assumed the blow of losing him was lessened, and in a sense it was. He was frail and tired, and ready, in his own words, to get it over with. But your words about a father's pride brought back to me how angry he'd been when he saw a prize for an unpublished novel go not to me but to someone else. He almost got up on the stage to clock the poor woman who'd won and wrestle the cheque from her hand. And my biggest disappointment - then and now - was not for myself but for him. Just as the fact that when I finally did sell a novel he'd died three months before and never knew.