FRIDAY'S FAVE FIVE

 

This week I didn't do anything but suffering in silence, my Zona is still there. The swelling in my eye has gone a bit, but during the week I have developed pain I didn't have before. I'm at the end of my medication  now, I just have to be patient while everything goes away. I'm so tired and have no energy due to the 5 pills I had to swallow per day ! 

Despite this, I participated in our activities all week. On Monday, we were supposed to incorporate verbs into sentences. Here are Mr. Wikipedia (André) and André, who read the verb with a magnifying glass because they both forgot their glasses. André on the left had spent a few weeks here and loved it so much that now that he is home again he often comes to play with us. Anyway he has already booked a room and will decide when he sells his house and moves in our castle. The two girls behind are 2 internships who stay with us for a month and really love to come here because we "oldies" are so funny !!

Each Tuesday instead of activities there is a Mass. Belgium is a Catholic country; they knew nothing else, especially the generations who live here in our castle. But there are also many who no longer go to Mass since the pedophilia scandals.

For those who don't go to Mass, there is, of course, a game. I am Protestant, or at least baptized as such, and I don't go to Mass. But this Tuesday it was special because it was held in honor of our 103-year-old Gilberte, who had died peacefully in her bed.

Gilberte 103 years old

I knew her quite well; we were both born in July, just one day apart—she in 1923 and I in 1943. We had a lot of fun together, talking about our school days or other stories. She must have been quite independent for this time, even as a child.

Apart from weddings and funerals, I had never been to a Mass, and those were special occasions. I couldn't and still can't remember when, or even if, I have ever been to a regular service. But I wanted to say goodbye to Gilberte one last time. The service was held in the small castle chapel on the third floor. It used to be much larger but was reduced in size to make room for other rooms.

We sat in a circle and everyone (except me) received a sheet of paper which they later read aloud. Suddenly, an African man appeared in a checkered shirt and jeans, shook hands with all of us, and his white teeth flashed in his very dark face. Then he put on a long, old white shirt (like a nightgown) and threw a purple scarf over his shoulder, made a serious face, and the service began. It didn't last long, then everyone joined hands, a prayer was said, and then it was over. 

Of course, word got around that I, as a Protestant, had attended the service for Gilberte. But I thought that was only normal. I don't care about religions, they often have nothing to do with God anymore. Why are there still wars, and all religions pray to the poor God that they will win ?

Now that flowers came out at the end of the week it became cool ! And for the weekend even snow is announced, what a crazy weather.  

Spring had started so well !

The staff enjoying the lunch break 

 

 

more participants at Susanne at Living to tell the Story.