Time to say goodbye

This morning I had someone round to look at the house. It's too early to tell if they will be my eventual buyers, it's a huge decision to make and somethng I wouldn't want anyone to get wrong. Time will tell and once more I can do nothing but WAIT!

Then I spent the afternoon watching Back to the Future 2 with youngest son, a great thing to do on a wet Saturday afternoon.

Because it is a film I have seen countless times I decided to "do" something constructive while half watching.

It was perhaps an unlikely choice of occupation but I decided to read through the sympathy cards sent to me when Andrew died.

There are two shoe boxes full, not all sympathy ones, some from the first Christmas and birthdays without him.

I have read the tender words bequethed to me and been filled with an overwhelming sense of love that people care so deeply but without exception I have thrown each one away.

It is time to move on, the kind words will live on in my heart.

Unlike Marty McFly in Back to the Futiure I don't have a time machine, I have no way back to the past to fix things there.

But I can change the future.

And on that note I have decided this will be my final re-ravelling blog post.

For a while it has lost direction and focus as have I.

I have unravelled, re-ravelled as best as I can but now it it time for the next stage of my journey and I have set up a new blog called in search of lost glitter...

I explain my title in the very first post but otherwise it will be a blog of just stories and poems, or at least that is my intention.

I hope you will follow me there, re-ravelling has been fun but it's time to move on continuing my search for sparkle and lost glitter that I began here...

Do you know where you’re going to…?

When I went to the tip a few weeks ago with Andrew’s records suddenly I heard this song on the radio

I cried my eyes out saddened by the thought I was letting something go that was so precious to us both but also aware I have to let go to move forward.

But I don’t know where I am going anymore. At the moment I feel as if I am making such a mess of everything on my own and today once more for no apparent reason I am in floods of tears.

I miss Andrew so much and wish he would just walk through the front door with his cheery “honey I’m home” said in jest, a take-off of American sitcoms.

I wish he would look at the accumulated mess and resolve to sort it out together. Because together we could do this

Cue another Diana Ross song 

On my own I fill my days up with nonsense but every now and again a bitterly cold wind blows away the fairydust and I can see what’s underneath, just me, lost, alone and in a muddle.

I push on each and every door I come across hoping one will open, but when one gives I fall flat on my face and it hurts!

I reach for bits of glitter but however far I stretch it soon becomes clear they are merely pinpricks of light in the night sky beyond my grasp.

I used to be able to write myself happy, somehow turn the sad thoughts around, today I think I’ve lost the knack.

But every day some small things do make me laugh out loud and I am using them as stepping stones to cross this river of tears.

I have no idea where they will lead me, or if they will have me spinning in circles, but smiles and laughter are always good.

And one thing always leads to another like a "chain reaction"...

 

... now that's a song that will always make me laugh and cry... but that's another story!

There will always be hurdles

The thing with grief is there will always be hurdles to jump and big fences to negotiate. Do I go round or attempt to leap over, all the while hoping I don’t spectacularly trip and fall flat on my face!

Yesterday was Fathers’ Day, a day which creeps up and I am only slightly aware of, out of the corner of my eye, just there in my peripheral vision.

You can’t avoid the displays in the supermarkets but I walk past quickly. Although I still have a dad to buy for my boys don’t and I feel at odds with that fact.

The bottom line is it’s just not fair.

((I’m reminded at this point of an old blog post I wrote about a year after Andrew died for my unravelling-edges blog - “When There are no Words”))

My dad and I, without even a word will quietly acknowledge these kinds of days, neither of us wanting to upset the boys unduly.

However the truth is this year I really thought Fathers’ Day was next Sunday.

So when I texted my brother on Saturday to give him an idea of what to buy as a gift for dad for the following Sunday he send a message back…

“Fathers’ day is tomorrow!”

“Oh shit!” I texted back!

 

(sorry for the language but that was my honest reply and I can't lie!)

You see the thing is I had spoken to dad just that morning, only briefly because I really needed to wish mum a belated happy birthday for the day before – I am failing as a daughter on all counts here!!!

I had just about managed to get a card to her on the right date and I am so grateful to Amazon who delivered a parcel to her door on the actual day too!

The order for my dad I had sent to me with the intention of wrapping and posting it next week along with the card that sat in the drawer.

So the thought was always there and to be honest dad didn’t mind in the slightest. He told me with a chuckle when we did speak yesterday, “I thought it was next week too!”

I sometimes think they make far too many allowances for me, their little girl who lost her husband. 

Life is cruel and in an ideal world these things should never happen this way round.

I will always remember that hug my dad gave me after we had seen Andrew laid out in the coffin. All I needed was my dad to kiss it better and make the overwhelming pain go away. 

From having my own boys I know just how helpless you feel as a parent when there is absolutely nothing you can do and circumstances are way beyond your control.

 All he could do that day was hold me tight.

Ever since Andrew died my dad and I have grown a lot closer, not that we were ever distant but there has been a subtle shift in our relationship which moved again earlier this year when he was diagnosed with bowel cancer.

Thankfully it was operable and after major surgery he has been given the all clear.

Both of us took the pragmatic viewpoint that everything was always going to be OK from the start – we leave the worrying in the family to be done by my mum and brother!

But our phone conversations are noticeably longer these days, we talk more and say “I love you” far more frequently than ever before.

My dad is my hero but we will never be soppy about it, this is the Fathers’ Day card I sent him today.

  

As I said he had bowel cancer and “farting” after having half your bowel removed is a big deal! I was actually there visiting him in the hospital when he let the first one out and even the nurses cheered!

There will always be hurdles to face on this journey but hopefully my dad will be around for a long time yet to hold my hand as I negotiate them. And maybe on occasion I can hold his too.

In the grand scheme of things forgetting to send him a card on the correct day is immaterial because he truly understands better than anyone that he is special to me today,  any day, every day and always.  xx

The truth behind the waterfall

I wanted to write some more about the waterfall poem I posted the other day.

It seems like such a romantic poem standing under the cascading torrent together, embraced by the water, but the truth is quite different.

I have never stood under a waterfall with anyone.

Life doesn’t always work out the way you plan.

While some of the memory is real I was actually standing there alone while my friends and my boys watched and laughed. But it was a hot day, the water looked so inviting and I wanted to cool off.

I wished Andrew was there but to be honest he’d have probably been a little way off laughing at me too!

We were on holiday visiting friends near Chicago but “we” was just me and the boys.

Andrew suffered from badly from depression and hated travelling, especially airports.

I hated never going anywhere, never doing things together, things had reached crisis point. Our friends had asked us to visit and Andrew agreed if that’s what I wanted to do I should take the boys on my own.

It was never what I really wanted.

Life doesn’t always work out the way you plan.

The thing is he was meant to be working away the week we left but his ankles had swollen and the doctors were investigating the cause. We only found out afterward that he’d been quite seriously ill. He never did anything by halves!

However I, seemingly with very little concern, got on a plane and left. 

No not really! He was well enough to take us to the airport for our adventure and as ever I hated saying goodbye.

Inside I was torn in two, why couldn’t he just jump on the plane and come with us? Why couldn’t he “do” holidays like a normal person? Why couldn’t we be a “normal” family?

Life doesn’t always work out the way you plan.

Yet another part of me was desperate to leave, maybe we shouldn’t be together at all. Neither of us expressed it in words but looking back I can see that this holiday was almost a trial separation. We needed the time apart. 

It’s so hard being with someone who is depressed, walking on egg shells around them and carrying on as best you can for the kids, trying to find some stability. 

Life doesn’t always work out the way you plan.

So there I was a few days later under the waterfall, laughing, enjoying myself, feeling happier than I had felt for a long time.

The water was refreshing, I was doing exactly what I wanted, no responsibilities,  no one to stop me or hold me back or say I was just being silly. Andrew would perhaps have been that voice of “reason” in my head. Or just maybe he would have joined me and we could have shared a carefree romantic moment…

I missed him terribly, I was going to write I ached but I know it was nothing near how I miss him now.

One day in a giftshop I found a stone with the word “soulmate” on it so I bought it for him as a gift to prove he was. It is still stuck by blutack to the side the draws by his side of the bed, the first thing he saw in the morning when he woke up! 

The time apart reinforced the knowledge that we were meant to be together – forever.

Life doesn’t always work out the way you plan.

We still had lots to work on, the road ahead got rockier for a time but we clung on together and things were coming good right up to the point he died.

Life doesn’t always work out the way you plan.

So in my head I wrote another plan…

With our separation now enforced maybe there was a chance to embark on something new.

I plotted and planned – I’d sell the house.

I’m still here.

I plotted and planned – I’d find someone new.

I’m still on my own.

I plotted and planned – I’d write a book.

I’m still writing, it’s hard work and I am nowhere near finished.

Sometimes I could just cry.

Life doesn’t always work out the way you plan.

At the beginning of this year when everything around me was crumbling I made a new plan to NOT plan anything ever again! 

For someone who likes to know exactly what’s happening and when it’s been hard to let go. I’ve not always managed it but every once in while things happen that I haven’t planned. Good things, surprising things and suddenly I am not quite the same person as I was at the beginning of the year.

The seemingly big things haven’t changed a bit but I think I have changed a lot inside. I might write more about that another day…

It was quite by chance and serendipitous Twitter conversation that I discovered the waterfall again and remembered those feelings, a mixture of happy and sad thoughts, love and loss, brokenness and joy intermingled.

Once again I feel like I am standing underneath letting the water surround me, wash over me just going with the flow. Enjoying all the good things that sparkle brightly in the sunshine. Laughing loudly.

Meanwhile the memories tumble and I am letting the good ones fall now. For so long I desperately tried to change things because I would only allow myself to remember the pain and the hurt. It is far easier to remember the difficulties of being married to Andrew then I could convince myself that I am better without him and plan how to change my life for the better.

But life is not better just different and just as I was reminded once before so I remember now.

Andrew really was my soulmate – will I ever find another?  I don’t honestly know if anyone gets two chances.

Will I move house? One day I hope so but I have so much clutter to clear before that can happen.

Will I write a book? Well only with a lot of hard work and I need to give it much more of a priority that is has had of late. ((sorry Twitter TL but I may need to leave you for a while!))

Can I plan any of it?

Life doesn’t always work out the way you plan.

Then I found this quote on Twitter ((OK so I won't wander far from the TL - I love my new found Twitter friends too much! x))

We must be willing to let go of the life we planned so as to have the life that is waiting for us. - E. M. Forester

So I’m sticking with the idea of making no more plans and let’s just see where the water falls. So far it seems to be working out fine!

Has anyone ever written anything for you?

There was a saying often quoted to me as a child that 

“Sticks and stones may break my bones 

but words will never hurt me”

Thankfully we recognise all too well these days that some words can be very damaging. 

I have had plenty of things said to me in the past that on a bad day can still weigh my down and I can trace back a lot of my own insecurities to a few key spoken words and phrases which have left the deepest of scars.

I’ve been very aware over the past week how many other people out there have been stung by a misplaced and careless word too. Some of which I will admit have probably fallen from my own lips and I am truly sorry.

But I don’t really want to dwell on the bad, sad words any more than necessary, instead I want to delight in the happy words and compliments I have been given, especially recently.

It started two days ago when out of the blue I received a compliment on Twitter about my hair!

Without boasting I have to say that my hair has always been one of my best features, long, luxurious and now the colour comes from a bottle probably even more striking!

Now I’m the type of girl who gives compliments to strangers all the time when I meet them.

“I love your dress/coat/hair colour/shoes /nail varnish etc etc!”

But these are compliments from one girl to another and my kind words the other day were from a man I’d never met, just a follower of a friend and our paths crossed for the briefest of moments.

He just made a comment in a Tweet that my hair was AWESOME in capital letters just like that! WOW!

I don’t know how I’m supposed to react in these situations; I usually blush, get tongue tied and feel like I am fourteen again! My finger hovers precariously over the send button wondering if I should tweet back. 

However for once I just responded politely saying thank you while quietly smiling to myself. I am beginning to learn how to graciously accept kind words when they are given. It is something we all seem to need to learn.

But then yesterday I had a whole string of words written for me, actually an entire poem.

I have always, desperately wanted someone to write something for me, the nearest I got to Andrew writing anything was a shopping list of what we needed from B & Q!

My special poem is not a romantic love poem in the traditional sense. It is about my love for Andrew and the boys, words about loss, finding the strength to carry on, dry my tears and laugh again.

The man who wrote my poem for me also suffered an unexpected bereavement around the same time I did, because of this I know his kind words are written straight from the heart and are therefore extra special. I am truly flattered he took the time out to write this for me, I know it wasn't easy.

However it really doesn’t take much to make people feel loved. A poem is not always required and you are stuck for words to say; a smile, even the smallest compliment, a “like” on Facebook or “favourite” on Twitter will often do the trick and let people know you care.

But if perchance you do decide to write or speak just be sure you always use the kindest of words in all situations because words somehow last forever, buried deep and lasting long in our memories when all else is faded.

Kind words rescue us from the saddest days, make us bolder and somehow fortify us for what lies ahead.

Honestly I haven’t stopped smiling since I watched my poem appearing on the Twitter time line and in preparation for that day when my smile slowly begins to diminish I have printed out a copy ready to read those beautiful words once more and just smile! 

Or if I cry it will be those happy kind of tears, the ones that fall when you realise you are loved and someone out there really cares...