Eight months on and still writing

Christmas is almost upon us and the end of the year is looming. It’s traditionally a time to look back and reflect on the last year before looking forward to a new one. There were three big things that happened for me this year. I started to take part in a clinical trial for a drug for Secondary Progressive Multiple Sclerosis, I went to Australia and I began this Blog.

My MS over the last couple of years or so moved has from the more common Relapsing Remitting kind to the Secondary Progressive kind. The short version to explain this is that in the early stages of the illness, when the body goes all wrong, it then pretty much repairs itself. After a bit it gets fed up with its work keep being undone and stops bothering to fix it. And so when there’s a flare up, whatever damage it does, stays. It’s called secondary progressive because it’s the second stage of the illness. If you have Primary Progressive MS, it starts at this stage. Either way, at this point there is currently no treatment licensed and available to treat it. Hope starts to run away. There is, however, an enormous amount of research happening, some of which is becoming really quite exciting. So when I was given the opportunity to join a trial a light appeared at the end of the tunnel.

Now that I no longer have a restriction on how long a holiday I can take, I decided to go to Australia, and take the time to see all my friends. They live at opposite ends of the country you see.

I’d been thinking about setting up a blog for a while but didn’t know if I had the motivation to keep it up. Having a trial to write about, gave me that. I’ve enjoyed every minute of the challenge of writing a short piece to post every week. I hope you’ve enjoyed it as much as I have. But I think it’s time to take a break over this busy time of year, to refresh and rejuvenate my writing.

I wish you all the best Christmas and New Year and look forward to seeing you all again in January 2015.

A Greek Wedding Part 2 - The Ceremony

Inside the church was a vision of gold and light. The guests filled the tiny space to bursting. Many had to stand. They hushed as the choir began to sing. It didn’t matter that I didn’t understand a single word. It was beautiful.

The Bride and Groom were at the front, with the little bridesmaids behind. The priest sang his words. He placed a crown each on the heads of the betrothed couple, symbolising that they are King and Queen of their home, which they will rule with wisdom, justice and integrity. The Koumbara exchanges the crowns three times, following which the priest did the same. This sealed the joining of the couple as one.

Behind them, the littlest bridesmaid was playing with Helen’s train. Every so often, Helen’s friend got up and straightened it. The little bridesmaid thought this was a good game and ruffled it again.

The Bride and Groom’s right hands were joined, and the rings blessed and exchanged. They were placed on the right hands. The priest read a passage from the Bible, then poured wine into a single cup, from which the Bride and Groom took three sips each. Then it was time for them to take their first walk as husband and wife. The priest led them slowly three times around the table on which had stood the crowns, candles, rings and a cup of wine. It signified the promise of their marriage bond until they are parted by death. At the end of the ceremony the Bride, Groom, their parents and Koumbara stood at the church door while the guests lined up to individually congratulate them.

At the reception afterwards for the Bride and Groom to celebrate with their closest friends and relatives, the top table was decorated with the same flower display as had lined the walk into the church. Around the venue were lanterns and columns with flowers and candles. On each table was a vase of the same flowers. And at each place setting was a decorated ring of entwined branches, flowers and ribbon created by the Bride’s mother.

After the meal was the first dance. Helen and Jason nervously took to the floor. They needn’t have worried. It was beautiful. More couples joined them and the celebrations began.

Helen’s brother led the traditional Greek dancing. Sara joined in though she didn’t know what she was doing. But he was a good teacher and everyone followed his footwork closely.

The cake was cut. The Bride and Groom each fed the other one a mouthful to the applause of the guests. The cake was shared with them and the dancing continued.

A Greek Wedding Part 1 - Arriving at the church

I went to Athens, but not to see ancient Greek ruins. I was going to the wedding of my two good friends, Helen and Jason.

As in British weddings, it is tradition that the bride and groom do not see each other the night before the big day. SoJason went out with his friends then back to his parents for the night, while we girls had a delicious meal in a nearby restaurant. It was great to meet Helen’s friends. They all spoke such good English, I felt embarrassed that it’s the only language I’m fluent in. But they made me feel very much part of the group even though we had only just met.

The next morning, Helen went to her parents to prepare for the day. Another friend from the UK, Sara, and I got ready at the flat and then took a taxi to her parents. It is tradition for the bride’s friends to visit during the day’s preparations. Having arrived at the address, neither of us could remember which number within the building they lived at. Thank heavens for mobile phones. Helen let us into the building. “Can you remember which floor they’re on?” “Err… no.” Out came the mobile again.

Inside the flat it was all go, but calm. The dress was hanging up, the mother of the bride was having her hair done. Then it was Helen’s turn. The concentration on her face and that of her hairdresser was immense. The photographer arrived and set to work. At one point she was recruited to help with the hair. Meanwhile Helen’s mum was having her make-up done. Finished and dressed in her finery, she looked beautiful.

She, Sara and I left to go to the church to organise the final arrangements. It was tiny and beautiful and in the middle of a wooded part of town. A cream carpet was laid from the steps to the entrance. Then it was lined with flowers and lanterns that lit the path as the sky darkened. Esther, with Nikos’s and Margarita’s Mums prepared the Wishes Table. On it was a book for guests to sign with wishes for the happy couple.

The groom paced about nervously. He looked smart in a blue suit with a lilac tie.  Soon, the Koumbara (Maid of Honour), the little bridesmaids and the guests began to gather.

Then, with a serenade of beeping car horns, the Bride and her father arrived. A beautiful, white vision emerged from the car. The congregation applauded and parted to allow Bride and Groom to join. Together they lead everyone inside…