(prompt: 'word' 2/2/2018)

The power of words... simply phenomenal. There are ones to soothe, uplift, inspire - while others batter a vulnerable spirit as if they were a physical weapon. The best of us can be brought low with the right words at the wrong time. And vice versa.

Harry was brought to his knees by a single word - 'Cancer'. He came home from exhaustive testing and a biopsy to tell his wife he'd been 'given the death sentence'. Harry never really saw it any other way. In the ensuing months, like a drowning man, he grasped at any straw that suggested the tiniest chance of a reprieve. He attacked each and every one in a fiercely dogged fashion, determined 'this' would be the one to deliver him from the evils he perceived. But it had to happen within days, or at least weeks. Maybe one of these would have been able to extend his life longer - much longer. Maybe not. But something in Harry's psyche never overcame his belief that Life was soon to be over. And for him it was.

His wife, Wanda, had a completely different outlook. All seemed lost when she became a double amputee in the latter years of her life. Against all odds, she survived the grief of even more losses - faced on her own this time. The words of doubt about her ability to cope at home alone were shrugged off as no more than more hurdles to be overcome. In her mind, having faced what she had, nothing could really compare or get in her way now. Words were more often than not a formidable weapon she could wield from her wheelchair.

Confronting door-to-door charity collectors with, "You want me - an old lady in a wheelchair with no legs - to give to you? You should be giving something to me instead." And to religious callers, "Can your God tell me why I have no legs any more? Can He make Life easier for me? Can He give me my legs back?" Wanda would tell the story that you could hardly see them disappearing into the distance for the dust their hurried heels kicked up.

And why do words spill out that you're trying to avoid as if your life depended on it - and always at the worst possible moments? Like trying to give Wanda some positives to make early post-amputation days more bearable - and out would pop such non sequiturs as, 'putting your best foot forward'; 'one step at a time'; 'left without a leg to stand on'; and the card a well-meaning friend sent, suggesting 'the longest journey starts with a single step'. Sometimes the platitudes must have equalled, if not surpassed, the pain of her loss. She either didn't hear - or pretended not to - and never showed a sign of unhappiness with these ill-chosen words.

But will any words beat those last ones engraved on the headstone of the controversial Spike Milligan? Surely they haunt someone -

"I told you I was ill'