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The waiting Room

waiting in hosp

People silently sitting

Some sit with hands fidgeting

And knees twitching

Nervous tension

Sat in neat orderly lines and rows

Waiting, clock watching

Tick tock tick tock

They sit with fear etched on their faces

There’s a sense of  premature sadness that fills the air

Waiting, clock watching

Tick tock, tick tock

Empathic smiles shared between strangers

In corridors and rooms with sterile coloured walls

With magazines on tables 3 months out of date

and discarded  styrofoam cups

Soft muzak plays to soothe the  patients as they wait to learn their fate

Waiting, clock watching

Tick tock, tick tock

For their name to be called

For their futures to be decided

Whether it is allowed to continue as it was before

But for those who are told the bad news (no one wants the bad news)

They leave the doctor’s office

With their world crashing down

Tumbling around their feet

Whilst those left sit patiently

Smile with empathic grins

All thinking the same thought

There but for the grace of God (go I)

But still they sit

Waiting, clock watching

Tick tock, tick tock

For their name to be called out

©Copyright 2013 by June Bolland

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Tonight I write about my father.

Now normally at this of the day I’ve either written, or am about to write or have the formation of a poem in my head but not tonight. Tonight I want to write about my father. Those of you have followed this blog since it started in December will be aware that in the early part of my life , well will know that my father and I,  we didn’t have the best of relationships due to his alcoholism. It was only until I was 22 that he finally admitted he had a problem and got help for his illness, (because it is an illness) did we have a really close relationship, although despite his illness, from being a small child I had always worshiped (the sober him ). But today I just really really miss him.

He passed away 9 years ago to a rare illness called Guillain–Barré syndrome (GBS) that effects only about one person in 100,000 every year. It is an awful illness , he developed shortly after having cancer surgery, on the day he was due to be discharged from hospital  ,we sat and watch  a physically strong man even though he had suffered cancer succumb to this disease, paralysed him from the neck down .He deteriorated  over a period of eight weeks until his body could take no more as he developed secondary cancer and I had to make that decision no ever should have to take and that was turn his life support system off, we held his hand and watched him pass to I believe a better place.

During those eight weeks we use to sit with him for hours, held his hands and I would hum The Beatles songs to him (his favorite was Blackbird) or we’d read to him, or we put the CD player on and let him listen to the Goon shows and Spike Milligan ( he was a huge fan). It calmed him down because he used to get distressed being on a ventilator, during those eight weeks we became incredible close.

His loss has never left us nor will it ever,  as I am sure anyone reading this who have lost a love one will understand. We talk about him all the time because it keeps him here. The only regret is he never met Jo my partner, he would of adored her and she him, I think they would of got on really well and at least they would have been able to have shared a conversation in their mother tongue – Welsh.

It’s strange how the overwhelming loss of someone hits you at certain times, but saying that not one day goes by that I don’t think of him , it’s just sometimes the thoughts are overwhelming. What’s even stranger is that they make their presence felt at the most strangest times too. Whenever I wish my dad was here you can guarantee I will find a penny in the most strangest places, same when I need guidance from him , low and behold I get up and find a penny . This goes for my mum too she’s found pennies in the strangest places too .It like they are a message from him saying don’t worry I am still around looking over you Today my mum found a penny in her bathroom, just at time she needed it. . I like getting pennies from heaven they give me comfort, never stop sending them dad. Maybe one day I’ll sit down and write that poem about the pennies he has sent, in the mean time we will just keep putting them in the jar.

pennies

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Heartbeats…

aaaaaMy arms are wrapped around you

As you lie by my side

But at all times one eye is kept open

I wait; watch you as your heartbeats become content

I watch as you drift into your world full of dreams

Where you are well

Some days when you wake

I can tell the dreams you have

The waking world is not the same

The reality sinks in

You long to be the girl who you once were

I tell you, no I try to reassure you, you will be once more

Your eyes say otherwise, you are not convinced by my words

It’s hard, it hurts and I get stressed

I get angry with people

They’re not interested in your blight

They’re too busy floating around in their delusional bubbles

Expecting us to enjoy

Watching them go ride off

On life’s fantastic journey

When all I want to do is lie by your side

Wrap my arms around you

and watch you sleep as your heartbeats become content

©Copyright 2013 by June Bolland.

All rights reserved

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Your Story

SCALESI remember the day you opened up to me

The day you relived your story

I remember  how the tears streamed down your face

Your body language changed

You told me you had suffered from an eating disorder

How you mind distorted

The image reflection of you

How you used to hide

Locked away in the bathroom

Away from prying eyes

Alone with your morbid distain

You learned to purge and expel

With fingers down your throat

All you consumed expelled

Of how desperate you became

How daring you became you performed

This act in public and how still no one was aware

How you became a mistress of its deceit

Until one day your mind, your body completely broke

You were forced to look your demons in the eye

Kept under lock and key, your every move monitored

You were  allowed no privacy

You told me how of the months you spent in therapy

How they healed your mind and body

How this was the reason you became a nurse

Of how it scars still haunt you

Of how you still live with years of self-abuse

Of the damage it caused to your heart

I sat and listened to the pain in your voice

There were tears streaming down my cheeks

The day you opened up to me

The day you relived your story

I remember how I held you,tried to kiss away your pain

I told you sshh babe, it’s ok , let the pain all out

I held you until you were all cried out

Now the years have past since you retold your story

Now not one day goes by

I never forget to remind you how beautiful you are

both on the inside and out

©Copyright 2013 by June Bolland.

All rights reserved

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Will you take care of your heart

protect-your-heartI refrain from telling you

I’m constantly biting my lip

at the reckless chances you keep taking

It alarms me , it worries me

the lack of respect you give to your heart

you tell me stop fussing, your ok

but both know really your not

You tell me you’re only young once, life is for living

I tell you, I know but

I’d actually like the chance to live that life with you

I want to grow old with you at my side

You know I’m scared  to death of losing you

I nearly lost you once

we may not get a second chance

I don’t want to visit you at your graveside

but then I refrain

God you drive me insane sometimes

but then again I still can’t help caring  for you

©Copyright 2013 by June Bolland.

All rights reserved

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For my uncle

We sitlp

We talk

We listen

Machines beep, flash

Exhale and inhale

We hold your hands

We stroke your face

To bring you peace

and to bring us comfort

But reality says you are not there

But clinically you are very much here

Centre of our attention (you hate fuss)

I see my mother silently reciting the Mi Sheberakh

for you

sleep long

sleep peacefully

sleep

sleep

bless you go quietly

bless you go with dignity

bless you pass surrounded by love.

©Copyright 2013 by June Bolland.

All rights reserved

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Reassurance needed

Reassurance

 

She needs reassurance

She wants to know the answer to

Questions I don’t know

 Like “Will I lose my hair again?”

“What treatment do you think I will have?”

“Will I have to stay in hospital?

She needs reassurance

I give half hearted answers sometimes, I lie

And reply,

“You might do, but only a little maybe”

“ I’m not too sure “

“I don’t think so”

It makes me feel bad but how can I say nothing,

remain silent when …

She needs reassurance

She sad, she has been weeping most of the day,

She tells me she doesn’t have the fight in her any more,

is older and life is too difficult sometimes,

 I hold her so tight as if to take all of the burden from her.

I tell her my father is about, guiding, looking after her like always

She needs reassurance

I can tell the things that I do know though

That I will be by her side

 At every appointment,

During every treatment

When she needs to be nursed, I will be there

I will brighten up her darkest days

I will be there when she’s cured

I will be there when we  will beat  this disease

This she can  be assured 

©Copyright 2013 by June Bolland.
All rights reserved.

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Twiddley thumbs up, everything with be ok

003An impromptu posting.

Two days ago my mother was diagnosed with cancer. It is not a bad cancer (if cancer could ever be described as good)!

But in the scheme of cancers that has she has previously fought, this is a better cancer to fight (we hope, we have to remain positive)

She just went to the doctors with a mole on her wrist. A tiny thing that started to grow; now the doctor has reassured her it was ok but they referred to the hospital for further tests.

But they found another one further up her arm and more serious one on the side of her head. To be honest I had forgotten about that one and I was shocked at how much it had grown and how angry it looked)  at the moment they don’t know what kind of growth /tumour this is and unfortunately its near where she has had it before. The one on the wrist and arm are contained which is good news

But they now have to do biopsy on what kind of skin carcinoma, (A horrible word) because I said they don’t know, but they have wait about 2 weeks before she can have this done ,as she needs a  blood count done first, but to do this she has to stop a certain medication, .So we have what seems to be along 2 weeks to wait before we get any further news.

Obviously my mum was upset, as I was.  I comforted and hugged her, gave her assuring words which she couldn’t take in. But now  I  have be seen as remaining  strong, if I show her weakness to her or if she thinks I have been told something different than her ( my mum is profoundly deaf so I have to interpret for her )  she will worry and oh boy can she worry.

There is an added sadness to this , because it is just over 12 months ago that my mum’s oncologist gave her a clean bill of health after 20 years and told her she no longer had to take the cancer meds. After I took her out for coffee, I really wanted to take her to lunch to chat about what had occurred but neither of us felt like eating.

My girlfriend J arrive home and she tried talking to her (she is a cancer nurse); she seemed to be getting through to her but then the what if questions, came. I know my mum with time she will get things sorted in her head, and come out fighting, she won’t let  it beat  her. So as my mum use to say to me when I was little and I was scared , twiddley thumbs up everything with be ok. She will get her head around the procedures, and the treatments. She knows the score. She has had to deal with it six times before, far worst cancers than this and she is still here.

But friends, family, people are offering to light candles, say prayers. Now this may be their way of dealing with it but I keep telling them politely please don’t, save for those who will think it will give them comfort. I get no solace, from god screwing up again. I would ask the question why my mother has been set tests all her life. She is a woman who doesn’t have a bad bone in her body. A woman who has never abused her body yet she is tested. Well if it’s for courage she passes, if it’s for strength of character she passes with distinction., but me and god fell out along time ago.

Anyway were off to Wales tomorrow spend the day with my girlfriends folks, take my mum to pay her respects to my dad ( his ashes are scattered not far.)  Hopefully go beach walking with J, clear my the head for the weeks to come. If I could get mum on the beach I’d take her beach walking too.

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The last weekend in August

heart_rate_by_shorty6636-d33l3us1

I remember if it was yesterday that last weekend in August

You told me you thought you were coming down with the flu

I told you phone in sick but you wouldn’t listen,

You worked a double shift instead you told me your patients needed you

I couldn’t stop you caring because that’s what you do

Sunday you rested you stayed in bed,

I brought you tea and stroked your hair

Sunday evening you were ashen, your lips a hint of blue

Your breaths were beginning to become shallow

I checked your heartbeat it was slow

All night I stayed awake with you

Monday morning arrived I rang the doctors, he said he was way on his and that

he’d phone ambulance it never arrived

You were drifting  in and out of conciseness,

I recall shouting at you to stay with me, don’t you dare leave I cried.

Your heartbeat was dropping fast I was losing you

Then with a miracle it began to slowly rise

Your mum rang ,she was on her way, I told her to come quick

I helped you to the car,

At the hospital, they rush you through.

They asked who I was, I told them I was your girlfriend, your partner

They  wouldn’t let me go through with you

They asked me if you had family

I told them they lived in Wales and that they were on their way

They asked me question about your medical history

But they still would not let me stay with you

I remember if it was yesterday that last weekend in August

When you nearly died and doctors wouldn’t let me stay with you

©Copyright 2013 by June Bolland.
All rights reserved.

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My Beautiful J

swag

She hides behind her confidence

Behind her designer clothes

her Jimmy Choos and Chloe bag

She puts on her make up with perfection

not too much, not too little

she is flawless

confidence trails behind her being

if you are lucky you may just catch some in your hands

from this golden haired Goddess with the sapphire blue eyes

But strip her bare

until you can see into the

dark  parts of her soul

you witness the unhappiness that lurks from her past

her self-esteem had been abandoned

her image was distorted

her mind was broken

she kept its secret this thing that played and perverted her vision

she purged and expelled in secret locations

until it became an art form she could perform in any situation

the body broke along with her mind

one day they came and  took her away

they fixed  and restored her mind and spirit

she wasn’t left unscathed, it broke her heart, it can’t be fixed

it still beats, sometimes too slow, sometimes too fast

Although perfection nearly killed

confidence still trails behind

my beautiful  J

©Copyright 2013 by June Bolland.
All rights reserved.

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Extracts from a conversation

Are you friend or foe?mirror2

She asks staring intently

Ah you see that all depends

On your point of view

The thing in foreground replied

I would like it if you were to be a friend

I don’t think I would like you to be my foe

She claims

Mmm I shall give your request much consideration but

There again how do you know that I’m not already your adversary

Maybe it  is I who should be accountable

For all your woes

exclaims the thing moving nearer

Maybe it is true

She confirms as she walks away leaving the thing behind in the mirror.

©Copyright 2013 by June Bolland.
All rights reserved.

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the power of words = Love , Passion and being Alive!

Another impromptu posting . I originally started  this blog  back in November because I have written forever and I wanted to write again, I needed to write again , not for anyone else but just to clear my head of its thoughts. I don’t  have an ego although I write poetry …go figure ,What i mean is  I dont write for popularity etc etc  , Take me or leave me . I don’t profess to be any good, my poems are straight from the heart from me ,  ,all bio or semi biographical so maybe the ego does come through , but i like/hope to think they are  a release more than anything.. I’m honoured people like, that’s a plus ,so thank you x

In 2009 I stop writing , for two reasons my mother was seriously ill and  I took 15 months of work to nurse her, she pulled through,  proving she is the strongest woman I know alive or dead and two I finally began  grieving my father for the for time since in his death in 2004, it took me  5 years to get to that point.

Earlier posts have described our relationship from me being a child to me an adult , when died. I’m glad we found peace with each other and that we had at least 15 good years to rebuild our relationship, I loved him so much and miss even , more now . I forgave him for my childhood , because he couldn’t forgive himself. Anyway I also started a new relationship in 2009 with a nurse who looked after my mother , she’s the muse in most of my poems and my soul mate .

Anyway we split in Feb for stupid personal reasons,not my choice, she moved out of my house and I started writing again to keep a) Sane and b) to keep busy . Unbeknows to me  the girlfriend  had been reading and realised how I felt ,and as result were back together ,  we’ve gone back to basics to discover why we fell in love with each other again. (No doubt future poems) So the moral of the story Words will always win.

Anyway the link  is Andrea Gibson , who I bow to, I could listen to her forever , anyway I love her poetry , so heres just one of them, which is appropriate for discovering a new lover  …..enjoy.

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A Noble Profession

Rang J this evening  to find out aboutnoble prof

the arrangements for tomorrow

“Happy Birthday” I exclaimed “How was work?

She  answered “Thanks”

Her voice was full of sorrow

“What’s wrong?” I asked

“An old lady die on my Birthday” she blurted out

She’s never gotten use to the death

It’s a noble profession being a nurse,

nurturing life and at the same time mourning  it too

She was the only one with her when actually she died

She had no one else to be there, she said

she hung on for ages but she cancer it was prevalent

They called her family but they were stuck in the snow

I tried to appease her but she was in too much in grief

“Do you want me to come round ?” I said

“Can  I come to you ” she replied  ,

Yes I answer “Do want come stay the night?”

“I  don’t like the thought of you being on your own”

”I’d like that” she said ” I don’t think I should on my own tonight  too”….

©Copyright 2013 by June Bolland.
All rights reserved.

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As she lies sleeping

holding ill handAs she lies sleeping

She is now peaceful

I weep

For tomorrow I do not know if

I will  see her blues eyes smile at me once again

As she lies sleeping

I watch her  breathing

The monitors beep

For tomorrow I do not know if

her heart will beat for me once again

As she lies sleeping

surrounded by machines keeping her  here

I hold her hand and remember

For tomorrow I do not know if

I will ever feel her touch upon my skin once again

For tonight I will stay and watch her lie sleeping

And tomorrow I pray she is brought back to me once again

©Copyright 2013 by June Bolland.
All rights reserved.

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Let me introduce you to my muse

Quick posting today and no poetry although my head is full of ideas . Anyway I’m going away for a few days as it’s my birthday on Wednesday , I will be 47 (O.M.G when did that happen ?) So I am taking my mum  to Cardiff Bay , Wales for a couple of days and then we’re off to Bath, in Somerset for two more days. It will be lovely to spend some quality time with her  ( I love her to pieces , you’ll have to look at my earlier blogs to understand why!)

The break was originally planned when I was still witg my ex (who we will refer to as J, ( ex sounds so final and abrupt) as combi get away because it was mothering Sunday yesterday here in the UK . It is my birthday as I said on Wednesday and it would have been J’s 26 birthday at the end of the month.

The trip is bitter-sweet because we we’re both looking forward to a few days away after such a horrendous 6 months. So going without her will be sad, although she did call round with my card and birthday present today.

Firstly J has an irregular heartbeat which decided to cause havoc and she was seriously ill and we nearly lost her..

The only positive thing to come out it was J’s mum finally accepted

A) Me as she realised how much I loved her daughter

B) The 21 year age gap between us

C) That her daughter was a lesbian

and  let’s face it the above weren’t important things in comparison to what we had been  dealing with.

 Pleased to say J is doing ok , and is well.Took a good three months for her to recover.

The other major thing was that my mother who is paraplegic had health issue’s just before Christmas which as I am her only carer  put a huge strain on J’s and my relationship, because we we’re both stressed out .

But I have always been very open with J right from the start of our relationship I cannot compromise the care of my mother for anyone or anything. As J is in the Health profession she fully understood the complications,but because of everything that had gone on in the last 6 months she couldn’t cope and  coupled with the age gap , her being at the beginning of her life path and me in the middle of mine and also now with the added problem of her health issue’s , we both sat down and agreed that we should part and that she go have space, live a little go places where I love to take but can’t because of my role as a caregiver. I don’t want her to miss out on anything life offers her . So we have separated , now only time will tell if this is permanent or not at the moment I have to tell myself it is permanent, cos with time the pain will ease.

We still love each other deeply she is my soul mate , without question but J has to get whatever fears, doubts out of her system now. I would rather her do this now and it be of her own choice than instead of resenting me 5 , 10 years down the road.

Anyway my poetry is keeping me focused. Can I take this opportunity to thank all those of you have liked my poems and to those of you who have now as result decided to follow my blog… Thank you ,it means a great deal as I having been dabbling with poetry for years but I’m very self critical and did not feel it worthy of sharing, anyway I have new creative confidence in posting more .

Anyway hopefully i will find another  muse whilst I am away and hopefully I will come back refreshed and armed with new work.

Finn x

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It's all in the genes!……….

Well its been about two maybe three weeks since my last blog. Christmas has come and gone and I will try to do a separate blog about how this Christmas went, hopefully sometime before New Year (all being well). But first I need to address two things regarding my last blog and also introduce you properly to my mum. Firstly I want to say thank you to some of my friends who sent private messages to me, your words meant a lot.

Secondly and more importantly posting the last blog although as cathartic as it was , did leave me feeling raw. I was racked with guilt and felt I had betrayed my dad and his memory because, one I don’t want people thinking my mother was a weak fragile doormat … she wasn’t and that I had a terrible childhood … I didn’t , yes there were lots of moments and episodes that I wish hadn’t happened but they did and yes subconsciously they did affect me and excuse me if I beat my own drum but  I actually think I’ve ended up  quite a well grounded sort of person considering everything that has happened, I know I’m definitely stronger than most people give me credit for.    

I also don’t want people thinking my dad was an awful man because that was not the case, especially in the years he stopped depending on drink. When my dad died he wasn’t the man who drank .He was the man who had hidden behind the drink for all those years. Looking back I strongly do feel that he had suffered from depressive episodes during his life, probably as result of his dad being murdered when he was 16 and unfortunately unlike my mum’s family ,he never received the correct support so he found solace in things that weren’t necessarily right but helped him with pain he felt at that moment and thus the vicious circle commenced!
You have to remember my father had been sober , free from addiction for a good few years when died,. He was a man who stood by his wife when she needed him most and remained there until he died, (despite their break up’s and there were many and their turbulent relationship, the violence which was definitely the worst aspect of his alcoholism, they never stopped loving each other.) I am very aware that my dad could easily have remained hidden behind a bottle because things got tough and believe me those early days/month’s and year’s of my mum’s illness were the toughest years I know I witnessed,but he didn’t, he dealt with his demons and was there when we both needed him the most and as result I became the woman I am now. Away from this illness that had taken so much of him , we discovered a wonderful man. A man of tolerance, kindness and generosity. A final testament to my dad’s character was the number of people who attended his funeral…. there were over 200 people in attendance , I still feel overwhelmed when I recall seeing all of them outside the church that August afternoon. So despite everything that happened , the bad memories I hold which unfortunately stain his character at Christmas, I will always be proud be his daughter.

Now as to every coin there are two sides, as this is the case with my character, the fundamental things that make me tick and ultimately what makes me want to write and make me value the things I believe in and I’m not necessarily referring to religious beliefs when I say that . I feel I should introduce you to my mum . How can I put it , she is singularly THE most important person in my life, (now I have a girlfriend who I adore and thankfully understands this and does not feel threatened by it.)

My mum has single-handedly taught me more about life and how to conduct myself through it than any other person alive or dead. But that’s to be attributed to the way she has conducted herself through her life .I feel it only right that I start at the beginning to explain what I mean when I say that. Now as a child at about 6 years old she became very ill and she developed T.B meningitis, she lost her mother at the age of 9 and also her eldest sister who was just 22 when she died , both her mother and sister also had T.B. My mum had an experimental operation which saved her life , but it was at the cost of her hearing . Now my mum was lucky enough to have a father who had a no-nonsense kind of attitude to life , who had not only just lost his wife, his eldest child and was also witness to his youngest daughter (my mum) fighting for her life. He also kept his remaining three children together, held down a full-time job,and didn’t have the privilege of care leave or child care as is the case today, in the late forties early 1950’s these things did not simply exist. Anyway after my mum spent two yeas in hospital , as a no-nonsense kind of man he paid for my mum to go to boarding school as he had the hindsight to know she needed a head start because there were no special provisions for disabled people back then. As result my grandfather’s intervention she ended up working in a hearing environment as a secretary.Remarkable for its time , never once has my mum ever let her disability stand in way, but unfortunately society and it’s environment have!

My mum went back into work working in a film archives as a cutter/editor when I was 8, I became a latch key child, this was at a time when my dad’s drinking was at its worst and money had to be put on the table namely by my mum!
When my mother was 45 the after effects of the experimental operation she had as child came back to haunt her and she began find it difficult to walk. she had a spinal operation which found adhesion’s from the medication used were slowly killing her nervous system and again down to the wonders of medicine my mum survived but at a further loss of her ability to walk, subsequently as this was happening, she also battled breast cancer twice and ovarian cancer and yet she is still with us. With not word of complaint. Nor has there ever been any moments she has felt sorry for herself. A true survivor in every sense of the word and as a result values her life more preciously than any other person I know and as out of respect I try to live my life in the same way. (Sometimes it is more difficult , than you think, but somehow her strength always gets me through!)

It’s important you also know I do not write these blogs to gain sympathy or anything egotistical, I purely write , one for myself because I enjoy writing as it calms my mind (because I have inherited the depressive gene off my dad!) and two I need to have a rant every so often because let’s be frank most people in this world are feckin annoying and stupid and are so feckin preoccupied with whats wrong with their life that they forget was right with it. Although I find it’s best deal with such people head on sometimes it’s not always the time nor the place and sometimes nothing can beat a good old rant!!

So that’s it , my character summarized in two blogs, and will explain what I write and the reason I write about certain things in future blogs. Nothing to more to declare, except the most important word to me is FAMILY and although mine haven’t always had an easy ride of it , we have stuck it out , and dealt with things head on and just got on with our lives as most of us do, but I suppose it’s all down to the genes and I am very thankful for mine.

May contain Rants

It’s all in the genes!……….

Well its been about two maybe three weeks since my last blog. Christmas has come and gone and I will try to do a separate blog about how this Christmas went, hopefully sometime before New Year (all being well). But first I need to address two things regarding my last blog and also introduce you properly to my mum. Firstly I want to say thank you to some of my friends who sent private messages to me, your words meant a lot.

Secondly and more importantly posting the last blog although as cathartic as it was , did leave me feeling raw. I was racked with guilt and felt I had betrayed my dad and his memory because, one I don’t want people thinking my mother was a weak fragile doormat … she wasn’t and that I had a terrible childhood … I didn’t , yes there were lots of moments and episodes that I wish hadn’t happened but they did and yes subconsciously they did affect me and excuse me if I beat my own drum but  I actually think I’ve ended up  quite a well grounded sort of person considering everything that has happened, I know I’m definitely stronger than most people give me credit for.    

I also don’t want people thinking my dad was an awful man because that was not the case, especially in the years he stopped depending on drink. When my dad died he wasn’t the man who drank .He was the man who had hidden behind the drink for all those years. Looking back I strongly do feel that he had suffered from depressive episodes during his life, probably as result of his dad being murdered when he was 16 and unfortunately unlike my mum’s family ,he never received the correct support so he found solace in things that weren’t necessarily right but helped him with pain he felt at that moment and thus the vicious circle commenced!
You have to remember my father had been sober , free from addiction for a good few years when died,. He was a man who stood by his wife when she needed him most and remained there until he died, (despite their break up’s and there were many and their turbulent relationship, the violence which was definitely the worst aspect of his alcoholism, they never stopped loving each other.) I am very aware that my dad could easily have remained hidden behind a bottle because things got tough and believe me those early days/month’s and year’s of my mum’s illness were the toughest years I know I witnessed,but he didn’t, he dealt with his demons and was there when we both needed him the most and as result I became the woman I am now. Away from this illness that had taken so much of him , we discovered a wonderful man. A man of tolerance, kindness and generosity. A final testament to my dad’s character was the number of people who attended his funeral…. there were over 200 people in attendance , I still feel overwhelmed when I recall seeing all of them outside the church that August afternoon. So despite everything that happened , the bad memories I hold which unfortunately stain his character at Christmas, I will always be proud be his daughter.

Now as to every coin there are two sides, as this is the case with my character, the fundamental things that make me tick and ultimately what makes me want to write and make me value the things I believe in and I’m not necessarily referring to religious beliefs when I say that . I feel I should introduce you to my mum . How can I put it , she is singularly THE most important person in my life, (now I have a girlfriend who I adore and thankfully understands this and does not feel threatened by it.)

My mum has single-handedly taught me more about life and how to conduct myself through it than any other person alive or dead. But that’s to be attributed to the way she has conducted herself through her life .I feel it only right that I start at the beginning to explain what I mean when I say that. Now as a child at about 6 years old she became very ill and she developed T.B meningitis, she lost her mother at the age of 9 and also her eldest sister who was just 22 when she died , both her mother and sister also had T.B. My mum had an experimental operation which saved her life , but it was at the cost of her hearing . Now my mum was lucky enough to have a father who had a no-nonsense kind of attitude to life , who had not only just lost his wife, his eldest child and was also witness to his youngest daughter (my mum) fighting for her life. He also kept his remaining three children together, held down a full-time job,and didn’t have the privilege of care leave or child care as is the case today, in the late forties early 1950’s these things did not simply exist. Anyway after my mum spent two yeas in hospital , as a no-nonsense kind of man he paid for my mum to go to boarding school as he had the hindsight to know she needed a head start because there were no special provisions for disabled people back then. As result my grandfather’s intervention she ended up working in a hearing environment as a secretary.Remarkable for its time , never once has my mum ever let her disability stand in way, but unfortunately society and it’s environment have!

My mum went back into work working in a film archives as a cutter/editor when I was 8, I became a latch key child, this was at a time when my dad’s drinking was at its worst and money had to be put on the table namely by my mum!
When my mother was 45 the after effects of the experimental operation she had as child came back to haunt her and she began find it difficult to walk. she had a spinal operation which found adhesion’s from the medication used were slowly killing her nervous system and again down to the wonders of medicine my mum survived but at a further loss of her ability to walk, subsequently as this was happening, she also battled breast cancer twice and ovarian cancer and yet she is still with us. With not word of complaint. Nor has there ever been any moments she has felt sorry for herself. A true survivor in every sense of the word and as a result values her life more preciously than any other person I know and as out of respect I try to live my life in the same way. (Sometimes it is more difficult , than you think, but somehow her strength always gets me through!)

It’s important you also know I do not write these blogs to gain sympathy or anything egotistical, I purely write , one for myself because I enjoy writing as it calms my mind (because I have inherited the depressive gene off my dad!) and two I need to have a rant every so often because let’s be frank most people in this world are feckin annoying and stupid and are so feckin preoccupied with whats wrong with their life that they forget was right with it. Although I find it’s best deal with such people head on sometimes it’s not always the time nor the place and sometimes nothing can beat a good old rant!!

So that’s it , my character summarized in two blogs, and will explain what I write and the reason I write about certain things in future blogs. Nothing to more to declare, except the most important word to me is FAMILY and although mine haven’t always had an easy ride of it , we have stuck it out , and dealt with things head on and just got on with our lives as most of us do, but I suppose it’s all down to the genes and I am very thankful for mine.