hahahahaha!!

(not in a mocking way, but in a surprised, happy way)

That's awesome! I feel better too. Thanks for sharing that, and if you get in touch with her again (I know that sounds stupid/trite/patronizing--I assure you I don't intend it that way), please tell her hello and that I'm thinking of her. :)

The next time you see a medium who perhaps seem reliable, could you ask who is the spirit that was messing with Trilby in her house? A spirit had been bothering her while she was sleeping and from what she said, he (it) didn't sound very nice. I'm just curious who that might be, that is all.

I'm glad you feel better. :)

Hey, brah. Check in. Done bin 2 monfs nah. Y'Irie?

Hey, Tribly's sis.....

Why don't you put in a request for a new user name with UNDERTOAD?

I'd like to get to know you a little. But as you, not Bri's sister.

Have you looked Around the forum at other threads and stuff?

I've been in and out a little. Bri's death really bummed me out. I've tried posting, but I get into and feel like it's pointless, and delete it. How can I think my opinion of the Bengazi scandal (for instance) is important when Bri is dead? I love you guys, but I'm sad in The Cellar these days.

*hug*

Take the time you need Spexx, but know that we miss you and are looking forward to when you're ready to post more often.

Sorry man, deal in your own way.

Well get your ass back here and cheer us up, or I'm taking the sig line back. http://cellar.org/2012/bwekk.gif

o snap!

Just coming back will cheer us up, Spexx.

I can't count how many posts I've deleted as useless because, you know, Bri isn't here. I lurk more than I post these days, but still ... Cellar is family. That's why we feel so deeply about Bri. Take your time but please stay connected.

So many books I want her to read. I haven't even looked at the new Kate Atkinson. And I finished a new-favourite author and then cried because I couldn't share it with her.

Silly ideas about stories (too verbose for children's books, but with a childish theme.) We had 101 non-fiction books to write when our ships came in. And silly ideas in equal measure. I wanted to make a coffee table book of Crazy Golf Courses of the British Seaside. Glossy photos interspered with a travelogue. And pics of us - two fat ladies - and a running total of who managed to get through the windmill first.

Amusement arcades of the Welsh Coast, because it's rarely a suitable location for outdoor activity. Seriously, we'd have ended up with our own series and been a hit both sides of the Pond.
She never even saw how much weight I'd lost.

Pretendy lottery spending. I found a new perfect house.
She liked the last one. But I've been casting my net closer to home all the time.
Seems I don't want to run away any more. Because part of me still wants to live. It's down to about 51%, but a politician will tell you that's a resounding Yes.

My potential future at Waitrose.
That was where we were going to shop when I lived in my £850k house in Thame.
She'd have liked me going there on a regular basis, for real and not daydreaming. She was always so supportive.

Dad's ongoing and conflicting diagnosis.
My health and how I got the bullet she dodged, the witch, and what spells she used.

And perhaps benefits (welfare), and perhaps time free in June/ July and perhaps Arran in the Summer.
If I do get this job I don't start til 22 July. Old debts and travel costs to hospital make it a "perhaps." No idea how I'll make it through but money is just money and as Shawnee's Dad says, "They can't kill you and they can't eat you."

So I want to focus on living. And if I can, walking through ankle high/ knee high grass, to a landscape of sacred belief an making another memorial to someone I wish I could have touched, because she touched me.

And if I can, making good food for the Limeys.
The Limes deserve my cooking when I'm at my best. Some Dwellars don't, but only because they have honed their skills to such a level my cooking would be an insult.
I'd still make them an English style cake (coffee and walnut mebbe?)

Sorry. It's all very self-indulgent.
Missing that woman pretty hard today.

I haven't visited the cellar in a while because I have been missing her so much, too. I'm getting worse instead of better. I don't want to be Debbie-Downer, but really...what is the point of life? Why fight? All the "mother-approved" religions say heaven is paradise. Why wait? Life is shitty without her around; without her sense of humor to easy the pain.

Dear Gypsy
I do know how you feel.
But, her sense of humour is still around - catch her reactions, you know what they would be, and smile to yourself. She lives on in your memories of her, of how she reacted, how she was, what she shared with you, what she taught you. Keep that alive, for everyone that knew her.
You have family and friends who would be devastated if you hurried off now.

That's erroneous thinking, gypsy. The 'why wait' stuff, that is. I think we take the next step of our journey, ideally, when we have gleaned everything we can from this step. I don't pretend to know what was in Claudette's mind in her last days except that my firm impression, from talking with her in very intimate terms about death (I have breast cancer and Claudette befriended me and guided me through the worst once I brought it up in this community), was that she wasn't thinking in those terms. It may be that, after due deliberation, she concluded that it was her time; but she never conveyed to me any sentiment of 'why wait?'.

I'm so sorry you're struggling. I do understand. At least, I understand grief and despair and lack of hope. All I can say is that Claudette negated all of that in her interactions with me, that she expressed hope in the strongest possible terms, and she never gave a moment's consideration to me pursuing any other option than to move forward and appreciate and enjoy every moment.

I think life contains its own hope, its own reasons. You may, likely do, still have work to do and miracles to appreciate. The next step will still be there, Claudette will still be waiting for all those she loved and helped in this life. But she'll be busy too, I'm sure of that, and she'll want to know what you've been busy doing. Say yes to life as we know it, gypsy, until it's clear the next step is, well, your next step. PM me any time.

Depression or dependency robbed Claudette of a portion of her life. Please,Gypsy, don't allow grief to rob you of the same.

If there is such a thing as heaven, or an afterlife or continuation, then it will still be there, it will wait and it will be forever. And if such a thing exists, then it surely must be better to enter into it with a full set of memories and experiences. Because some of that human experience is otherwise surely lost forever.


I may not believe, myself, in a spiritual realm, but I believe absolutely in the bond that exists between siblings. There is a special connection between those who share a childhood. If you truly believe that there is somewhere after this, and if in that somewhere there is the barest hope that Claudette will be there, learn the lessons that she was robbed of and share them with her.

But ... but what if there are 72 virgins waiting for her on the other side? Will they still be virgins by the time she gets there; or, will she have to settle for sloppy seconds because her sister has already had them? Would she really want that special connection to go on forever? It's important to consider all the angles.

SOCIAL INEPTITUDE is an anagram of POTENTIAL SUICIDE.

and vice versa

Who cares. Maybe angles aren't important. Maybe peace is what's important. Maybe nothing is important.

ANGLES is an anagram of ANGELS.

I know this is redundant. But I honestly cannot believe she is dead. Still dead.
I know she is. She'd never let so long go by without contacting me.
But it's so wrong, so inconceivable. Stupid, amazing lady was so alive.



































And I loved her so much.

I know how you feel. It has been almost 5 months since my father passed away, and I still can't believe he's gone. I sometimes look at his desk and just stare. It still feels incredible.

Damn. I'm awfully late to this terrible news. Your mother was one of my favorite Cellarites, and we were confidantes in earlier years. I'm so sorry I was absent when all this went down. I still have her phone # in my cell. I hope you all carry on with strong hearts and souls.

Oh damn, Els. I didn't realise you didn't know.

Terrible thing. We all miss her so much.

I apologise if I'm treading on anyone's sensibilities here but I don't think I've ever lucked into any community with such a depth and breadth of feeling towards fellow members.
it'll take you a millisecond to know I've only just joined so I cannot have known Trilby and cannot share your loss personally, but reading this thread, but I think I begin to understand it.

it may seem strange but reading this thread straight through I was immediately reminded of the Deep Purple song "Above and Beyond" specifically for the line
souls having touched are forever entwined
and that pretty much applies here.
I won't degrade things by posting links but it's on youtube and well worth a listen as one person's tribute to another held in very high regard.

Yeah, you got it.

You should have seen the time we bought UT his car. Million years ago.

Funny thing is he thinks you're joking now

Edit a link to the Cellar Car thread into his post for him.

Over two years on and it all still applies.
Discussed Bri with another Dwellar earlier, and it doesn't take much to bring it all back.

Why don't people understand how fucking amazing they are when they're alive?!
It's not just hindsight on my part, I told her how blessed I was that she came into my sphere.
And I know people who she loved and who really looked out for her and did far more for her than I did feel the same guilt and shame.
That we couldn't shore up her amazing light.

I don't eulogise her because she died; I loved her passionately when she was alive. I just hurt because she's gone. It still hurts.

It's at the forefront of my mind because we went to Machrie Moor. And I can easily go for days, even weeks without thinking of her. But tonight I'm crying again, for all the things we can't share. Why couldn't she understand how irreplaceable she was?

Stone on stone. Sigh.