Poetry

I love poetry , ever since I was a little girl and my mum used to read to me and my sister. Poems like Robert Loius Stevenson - 'from a railway carriage' and WH Davies "What is this life if full of care we have no time to stand and stare."
I learnt it at school where I poured over it for A level English, poems like Remember by Christina Rossetti and war poems which I hated 'There was a simple soldier boy'.
One of my mums favourites was about a little boy who ate a slice of chocolate cake , then another , and another until it was all gone! And one about shoes. But her favourite was called 'When I am old I will wear purple 'by Jenny Joseph. It goes like this:

When I am an old woman,
I shall wear purple - -
With a red hat which doesn't go,
and doesn't suit me.
And I shall spend my pension
on brandy and summer gloves and satin sandles,
And say we've no money for butter.
I shall sit down on the pavement when I'm tired
and gobble up samples in shops
and press alarm bells
and run with my stick along public railings,
and make up for the sobriety of my youth.
I shall go out in my slippers in the rain
and pick flowers in other people's gardens
and learn to spit!
You can wear terrible shirts and grow more fat
and eat three pounds of sausages at ago,
or only bread and pickles for a week,
and hoard pens and pencils
and beermats and things in boxes.
But now we must have clothes that keep us dry,
and pay our rent
and not swear in the street,
and set a good example for the children.
We must have friends to dinner
and read the papers.
But maybe I ought to practice a little now?
So people who know me
are not too shocked and surprised
when suddenly I am old,
And start to wear purple!

--Jenny Joseph


.I wanted to recite that one at her funeral but my step dad forbade me as it was too frivolous for such a solemn occasion.
On her birthday in November I shall journey to the bird box and recite it to her and wait for her laughter.I wish I could still recite it to her now face to face.We should always treasure those memories , golden memories, for special people will not be with us forever.

Ella

I have a friend called Ella. She is strong and beautiful and special.
I could only have one child and I had a boy. But if I had had the chance to have another and it was a girl, I would have called her Ella.

Being liked

We all like to be liked. To be accepted . Its human nature I guess. But we are all far from perfect.
I am too sensitive at times and take things personally.( What a stupid phrase that is. How else do you take things about you if its not personally!!)
I fret about silly things or beat myself up about things , comments said about me or to me.I don't like people talking behind my back yet I do it. What a hypocrite! I think I am straight forward and call a spade a spade but maybe I am not.
I need to become like an onion with layers. I should put on my layers like a coat and wear it to work to avoid being hurt .

bad day

Everyone has bad days. I had one today. It was stressful and tearful and busy and frustrating and made me want to give up.

So how could I be of any use to anyone else who was having a bad day too??
We all live our lives in our own bubble and stuff we stress about is tiny and insignificant in the general scheme of things, the big picture. But our stuff matters so its silly to try and dumb it down if we can't fix it or handle it or cope .
We are all swimming in the sea of life. Sometimes we are drowning, sometimes bobbing on the surface. The least we can do is wave to each other.
Today I couldn't throw a lifeline. Mine were all used up too.
Tomorrow is another horizon. I am going to try and swim harder.

Becoming

I am becoming something else. Or is that someone else? I am no longer the stay at home person I was, but now a working mother, and I am becoming a soon to be single something at the grand old age of 51.
I am feeling a bit like a caterpillar. But unlike a butterfly , I want to live for more than 1 day!!I am still me in side but subtle changes are happening and its quite exiting. And scarey all at the same time.
Soon the world wll be my oyster. Whatever that means!!!!

WOW!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

confusion

A confusing weekend really. My own fault again no doubt. I have the capacity to look for the negative in everything. I expect people to let me down - I guess that way I protect myself in case they do. So pathetic.
All I know is I am sick of being me.

Living in the moment

I wish I could perfect the art of living in the moment, not worrying what tomorrow may bring.
This is not real life.
Real life is humdrum and monotonous and someone else dictating what you do and when you do it. Holidays become a distant memory and days out a soon forgotten time.
Living every day as if it were your last is so easy to say and hard to do.
Winter draws on and so it comes to this.
Soon be Christmas - and another year gone. How scarey.

biting my tongue

I have a bad habit. I engage mouth before brain. I think something then say it before realizing the impact my words may have on the person I am talking to . It may be an honest comment but sometimes it could be something the other person really doesn't want to hear.
Silence speaks volumes so they say - maybe less is more. I think its open to misunderstandings. The idea of 'clearing the air' works for me. I know that many find that hard and the conversation ends up in a 'tit for tat' sniping dialogue which is often very destructive.This communication think is not easy.
So I will try to 'bite my tongue' and see what happens. An easier life? Maybe .

A rollercoaster day

I haven't had many of these lately but yesterday sure was. I got all tangled up in accusations and my head and heart were hurting badly.
What did I do? Lashed out as usual. Hurting my best friend . Again.

I have to keep calm and keep quiet.
I have to learn to trust.
I have brown eyes , not green ones.

We are all imperfect beings, bumbling through life. We don't always get it right.

miss you

I miss my mum. Sometimes I go for a week before I remember she is no longer with me. Sometimes I am happy and want to share it with her and go to ring and then........I remember she is dead.

Its weird . Its a pain I have never had before. When she first died the pain was there all the time. Unbearable pain. But now its more of a dull pain which I carry with me everywhere and will never leave me.

My mum made me laugh even when I felt really sad. She was so funny and so caring. She was elegant and sylish and unique. Other mums go all old fashioned and mumsy but she never did.
Admitedly in the end she began to lose her marbles , wearing the same clothes and forgetting things like how to make a cup of tea or what day it was. She would look at me in a puzzled way, desperately searching my face for the answer to something she had forgotten. But then she would amaze me by coming out with a gem. Like the last time I took her for a hospital appointment and she said'nature abhors a vacuum'.
She would recite poetry and recall stories from years ago - clear as a bell. But yet couldn't remember buying a jacket in Marks and Spencers then 5 minutes later seeing the same jacket and saying' thats a nice jacket' shall I buy it?

I try to remember my mum before she got ill. Before she started to forget things. Her body was beginning to give out but her mind was still sharp .
We never like to think of our parents as anything but well. We cannot prepare for them getting ill , getting old or even dying. We all want them to live forever.

It was so sad when my mum died and it was so suddden. Her body had given up and she had had enough of hospitals and illness and growing old. She would say never grow old its horrid.

I love you Mum. I hope you are smelling the roses, wherever you are, free at last of pain and suffering.


You are the best.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Disconnected

Have you ever felt alone in a crowd? Or wished you were alone when surrounded by people?
It is a wretched feeling. I am feeling disconnected from people today. Work, home, friends, church, everyone. I feel I have a glass wall around me and cannot break free . I am trying hard to relate to people but everyone else is speaking a different language or buying into a different vision to me.

I remain isolated and alone in my bubble . Silently screaming. Knowing noone can hear.
I read this tonight on someone else's blog.

'What do you do when you're caught between a rock and a hard place?
When you're going through disgrace after disgrace
when just about everything fails ?' When your life seems pointless?

'You keep hope alive.
You look up.
You have FAITH.
Hang in there blogland, help is on the way.'

I am hanging in there. Just.

Mountain top highs

Holidays are good in many ways and not in others. They help you recharge yes. And heal and relax and take stock. But they are unreal and often a short term escape from your life.
I was on a high on my return from my holiday. It lasted about a week. I now feel as flat as I did before I went away. You see nothing has changed in my life. The day to day remains the same old same old as does my inner turmoil and pain.
I guess the holiday was merely a week of distraction from it all. The mountain top high never lasts after all.