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...

A Mother's Last Word - #NaPoWriMo day 1

Today I stumbled upon #NaPoWriMo - National Poem Writing Month!

I doubt I will see this through to the end, I'm far better at starting things than finishing them but I followed the link to the Mslexia website and came up with this writing exercise...

1. A title page

Read the contents page from one of your favourite poetry books.  Without rereading the associated poems, select the five titles appeal to you the most and note them down on a clean sheet of paper. Now 'edit' them in some way to make them your own – by changing a gender, noun or adjective. (Don't worry, there's no copyright on titles.)  Choose one and write a poem to go with it.

I found my copy of Men and Women by Robert Browning which I had studied for A level and played around with a few titles.

I ended up changing the title A Woman's Last Word to A Mother's Last Word and wrote this, also inspired by the fact youngest son is off on a school trip to Spain this weekend... I might just print out a copy and pop it in his suitcase!

A Mother's Last Word

Be careful when you cross the street

Please be kind to all you meet

Enjoy new things, laugh, have fun

Put on your hat, when in the sun

Practice Spanish every day

I'll miss you son, while you're away

Remember that I love you lots

And every day, please change your SOCKS!

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.

God's teaching me to be patient AGAIN!

I’m restless at the moment. 

The garden is beginning to blossom, I will have ripe juicy strawberries just in time for Wimbledon. (since taking this photo only last week the petals have fallen and the fruit is growing!)

The kitchen is beginning to shine, after all that behind the scenes preparation I can now actually see things coming together. Cupboards are slotting into place, there’s some colour on the walls, I’ve got a quote for the worktops and have paid a deposit for the flooring.

My writing is beginning to come together too. I’ve certainly had some positive feedback over the past few weeks which is sort of keeping me focussed.

Good things are happening but the final results are ever so slightly out of reach, just beneath the surface, out of my eye line to mix up all my metaphors. I’m not quite there and my impatience is steadily growing.

I’ve been writing a lot of haiku poems recently, novels take a long time to write, I’ve never finished one yet, short stories can take days, flash fiction can sometimes be written within an hour, haiku’s take just minutes – perfect for those, like me, with very little patience.

Here’s one especially for today’s mood…

Something is bubbling

Still waiting impatiently

Dreams ripple with hope

I’ve waited so long but I can almost imagine how luscious those strawberries are going to taste when they ripen in just a couple of weeks’ time.

I can picture how amazing the kitchen will look. Realistically I’m guessing a month or so before it looks perfect, I’ve still got cushions to make and blinds to order.

And as for that bigger writing dream, I think that’s getting closer too. Although there is certainly a lot more work to be done and I suspect a there will be a lot more waiting involved too.

This popped up on my Facebook feed earlier.

I’ve written about God’s timing and waiting so many times before. It’s something I know deep down but it’s always worth being reminded especially on those days when your patience is stretched and you are desperately waiting for the next big thing!