A letter to start anew... or rather some excuses to postpone New Year to a more convenient date!

FACT: in 4 years, 5 weeks and 1 day I will be 50 - not that I'm counting! 

When I reach my 50th birthday my sons will be 21 and 18 and maybe they won’t need me so much.

Does it seem as if I’m wishing my life away? Sometimes I feel like I do, I wish I could enjoy the moment more and stop daydreaming of a future when I will allegedly be “free” to do whatever I please.

We celebrated Christmas at my parents, a bit of a houseful with four generations under one roof for almost a week. There were surprisingly few fallings out and a great time was had by all. 

I went to visit some old school friends while I was in the area and dipped in and out of Facebook catching up on the goings on of my online community.

On 30th December my dad was 70 – family and friends drifted in and out all day, including cousins I’ve not seen for years. We used to meet regularly for family weddings and parties but the family has grown so large we’ve come to accept we will never all get together again but Christmas is a great time for getting back in touch at least with a few.

New Year’s Eve was a quiet affair spent at my in-laws. We played the Pointless board game, watched the spectacular fireworks on TV at midnight and then I went to bed.

Oldest son stayed up with his cousins playing FIFA on the Playstation until 3am! Those days seem a distant memory to me although I later found out my parents stayed up until after 2 having their own party! 

I’m caught somewhere in the middle with all the responsibilities of being the sensible adult. I didn’t even have a drink.

However I was glad of the full night’s sleep and a clear head because yesterday I had a long and very wet drive home. The car aquaplaned a few times which I admit was scary and I am thankful we returned home safe.

But youngest son was definitely off-colour on the journey – I’m thankful he wasn’t sick in the car over the coats and Christmas presents that were on the back seat beside him. However he was sick at 4am and he’s lying on the sofa now watching Home Alone.

I too feel drained, exhausted, shivery and full of cold. And coming home to the reality of a mountain of washing and last year’s left over paperwork to sort out depresses me.

It’s doesn’t feel like a HAPPY New Year but that means things can really only get better, right?

Facebook is obviously filled with New Year’s resolution but the big question appears to be to plan or not to plan and instead go with the flow?

I’ve always been a plotter and a planner – I had a few ideas in the pipeline before I felt sick. Now I wonder what the point is and that’s probably why I recalculated the number of days until my fiftieth birthday. It’s a definite point on the horizon, far enough away that I know some things will have changed by then – at least I hope so, I really do.

I know I am too tired to think rationally, too exhausted to set realistic goals for 2014. Besides who said resolutions should be set in stone by yesterday to count?

I’ve tried before with mixed success.

And so I've decided NOT to have a new year's resolution - this in NOT to say I've stopped planning or that I'm just going with the flow but at the moment I feel too sick and tired to think about it!

New Year with all its hopes and fears is postponed – maybe until my birthday, which is after all only 5 weeks and 1 day away – FACT!

I am linking up with Ruth and Sabrina again with this post and their "Letters to..." challenge. Just click on their names to see what wonderful words they have written on the subject.

Second Chances

Well I had this post all planned out, all bright and hopeful, uplifting and positive!

Two weeks ago you may remember I ended up in tears during a radio interview talking about my life and more particularly my faith as a young widow. Thankfully the interview was recorded rather than live and yesterday I had the opportunity to redeem myself and do it all over again without the blubbering.

Of course now I worry that my words came across as glib and unreal as I spoke positively of God upholding me in this storm and sending rainbows to brighten my day to give me hope.

In reality, especially at this time of year, I fluctuate wildly between happy, hopeful, sparkly Sarah and the Sarah who spirals downward quicker than you can blink out a bucketful of tears – pass me another tissue.

After my more successful second interview I ended up having a lovely day in York, I bought a new dress for Christmas day – a full priced dress from a posh boutique rather than a charity shop! I got a few Christmas pressies, had a free hand massage in Lush and went to wonderful little café for a delicious lunch.

So all was good and I was ready to write my blog. What actually happened between then and now is a bit of a mystery, however a myriad of tiny insignificant details, nagging doubts and general insecurities invaded my mind causing me to once again crash.

I intended to write about God’s mercy and how he gives us second chances all the time. 

It says in Lamentations 3: 22-24 

God’s loyal love couldn’t have run out,
    his merciful love couldn’t have dried up.
They’re created new every morning.
    How great your faithfulness!
I’m sticking with God (I say it over and over).
    He’s all I’ve got left.

But at this moment far from feeling full of JOY the skies appear to be pitch black, there’s an occasional sparkle from a distant star, my mood lifts for a short while before I wonder again if God has abandoned me here in this blackhole after all. 

Have I finally used all my chances up? I feel insignificant and lost. Yes God gives me rainbows of promises but they tend to lead to dead ends rather than the new beginnings I long for. At least from my limited perspective!

It was because of these verses that a friend of mine would always say “Good morning” to everyone he met regardless of the hour of the day. His reasoning was if God’s mercies are limitless and new at the start of each and every day it must always be morning!

My friends and I used to shake our heads at his logic but actually I sort of hope it is true now. 

You see I’ve failed in my quest from the summer to choose joy, I’ve failed trying to be positive and thankful and to pray more. All those things I have written about before – how I was going to be a better person – well I’m not. My grand NaNoWriMo plan? I've not written another word since my last blog post - OK I am not stressing about it but I am a tad disappointed at my lack of commitment.

The world appears dark and gloomy, all I want to do today is sit and cry.

But thankfully I have more than two chances.

If I could do the radio interview for a third time I'm sure I could get a better balance between the tears and the hope but there are some things you have to draw a line under and just move on from.

Perhaps tomorrow will be brighter or perhaps even better a new day can start right here and now whatever timezone you are in…*

…Good Morning Everyone!

*actually I am in my PJs now and ready for bed but I'm heading up the stairs with a smile on my face, and for me today that is a huge achievement!

I’m not the girl I used to be…

For the past few years every time I’ve sat in the hairdresser’s chair I’ve looked with dismay at the woman staring back at me. She gets older and older with each visit and more and more tired – I thought getting your hair done was supposed to be a treat!

The lovely natural colour has slowly faded from my hair and after losing Andrew an extra spark was lost from my features. Oh I don’t suppose many people really saw it, maybe it’s just the passing of time and the pressures of modern family life taking its toll.

However yesterday was strangely different.

As I sat in the hairdresser’s chair and watched her blow dry the golden pink strands that currently frame my face, giving me some much needed colour, I know for certain Andrew wouldn’t have liked the "drastic" colour change but I do – I like it very much. For once I smile at my reflection and my eyes somehow sparkle.

I am suddenly aware that I’ve changed inside and out, slowly and sometime imperceptibly over the past almost three years – how did time fly quite so fast?

And then I read this poem which Mark Ethridge has written for this week’s #MWBB (Mid Week Blues Buster) and it makes me cry because I can hear Andrew’s voice, although he would never have been so eloquent with his words. 

READ IT BY CLICKING HERE!

It explains that if the person writing the poem had stayed the one left behind couldn’t have grown or ever realised their true potential.

And deep down I know this is true for me. 

(But I’m never sure how it works for the boys; they should never have lost their dad at such a young age. I guess some things will remain a mystery and I will never understand God’s way of doing things. )

Anyway Mark’s poem inspired my own, whether it is a proper poem or a prose poem or just some random thoughts I’m not sure but this is my reply…

I’m not the girl I used to be

I don’t think I’m any stronger, more resilient, extra resourceful

But with tiny steps each day I grow ever so slightly more confident

I’m not happier or more sad in my situation

But now when I laugh it’s louder, 

          the noise so precious I want it to resound forever

and when I cry it comes out from such a depth 

          that I never knew existed before

I know I wouldn’t be this person …

          … if you had stayed

I couldn’t be this person …

          … if you were still here

I found her lost and lonely in my own reflection 

          but together we have grown

I don’t want to be better without you than with you in my life

But part of me really likes the new me

And I like her more and more each day

As she grows and changes, forever a wonderful new work in progress

And sometimes I wonder what you’d think of me now

… if we could somehow meet

… because I’m not the girl you left behind …

… I’m not the girl I used to be.

Simply an Adventure - no SatNav required!

We’ve just been away for a few days, we being me and youngest son. We’ve been to Edinburgh, seen a few shows on the fringe and been to the zoo.

When I first booked the tickets I thought this would be a great big adventure, not just going to Edinburgh Fringe for the first time but actually driving there, driving north of the border into another country.

OK so it’s not a huge thing but Andrew rarely let me do the driving and I’ve not even been to Scotland since he died. It’s significant because he used to work off Aberdeen on a gas platform; driving up and down the A1 was second nature to him and he complained just how monotonous it was. 

There were occasions when we had gone with him. Four years ago he was working in the office because of a medical condition keeping him on-shore and we spent some days in Aberdeen with him. He rented an apartment for the week and the boys and I would meet him from work after our days filled with sightseeing.

We’ve always had these strange little holidays, a few days here and there; to be honest as Andrew worked away he was never happy to be away from home for too long.

Our holiday patterns now he is gone have stayed much the same. Short excursions are both manageable and familiar.

So I planned this trip with some trepidation. As I said it is the first time we’d ever been to the Fringe and the first time youngest son and I had been away together without staying with friends who have other children to keep him amused.

We set off from home, calling en route at WHSmiths to pick up a copy of the Daily Mail who this week are giving away free Lego. Only a small model but enough to keep youngest quiet for all of 2 minutes on the long journey and add to his already vast collection. 

Then I decided I should program the SatNav.

It was dead. It wouldn’t work at all. Turning on the ignition didn’t spark it into life. I pressed the only button on it and took the lead out and plugged it back in again.

A working SatNav!

Finally I resorted to the reset button underneath. This can only be pressed by use of a pin but in dire needs such as this when you have no pin to hand I have employed an earring and it has done the trick – oh how amazed was Andrew with me the day I did that – well actually not very much but I was impressed by my ingenuity!

On Monday however this didn’t work. With some misguided determination I fiddled about a bit more, whilst driving, not a great plan, I do remember swerving ever so slightly to avoid a parked car – then I decided I really should focus on the matter at hand so I discarded the Sat Nav completely saying “God, it’s up to you and whatever I can remember of the route.” After all this was supposed to be an adventure!

Of course getting to Edinburgh itself is reasonably straight forward – get to the A1 and keep driving north.

The problem I knew would be once we hit the outskirts of the city but fortunately I had looked at Google maps enough times in my preparation to have some idea of where I was headed and our accommodation was along the same road as the zoo, so I knew if I followed signs in that direction I should make it. Once in the area I could always ask if absolutely necessary, I am a girl, it’s not beyond me!

There was one little wobble where I decided to change lanes last minute at a set of traffic lights at a junction, which I hasten to add I did entirely safely although technically maybe not totally legally, but dotted lines mean you can cross them right? I’m sure they weren’t solid! Thank goodness I didn’t have my almost 17 year old, soon to be learner driver with me!

Anyway a little bit further along the road I spotted the place just like the picture I’d seen on the internet. Our home from home for the next three nights. We had reached out destination with very little hassle and certainly no drama, tears or tantrums.

Now I am pleased with myself, our few days away all went to plan – well OK maybe not all to plan, some bits weren’t so successful, like the show we walked out of it was so rude. But other things happened that were way above my expectations – I might just write about those another day!

But the truth is I’m not sure if the trip really stretched me. I have more belief in myself than I have ever had before and I want to try something more adventurous next time. Even driving back home through the Tyne Tunnel, another first for me, didn’t make me think “WOW I am so clever!”

Sometimes I wonder just how far I have travelled down this road called grief, there are bits of me that will never be the same but I have never wanted my bereavement to debilitate me. It is like travelling without a SatNav, a little bit scary as you have no idea what’s just up ahead.

However these few days away have shown me that I am stronger than I think, smarter that I often give myself credit for and even when things don’t go completely to plan I am capable of calmly working out a solution – who knew?