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!

An Angel's Tears (a story)

((A story because so often I make mistakes and say things I shouldn’t say … and sometimes there’s no way to take them back and edit them to make them sound better, or explain what I really meant.

And because this picture from Facebook made a good writing prompt!))

My guardian angel hangs her head in shame. She despairs of me and weeps silent precious tears. 

Meanwhile I look down at the ground shuffling dead leaves at my feet. 

It is always autumn when I am brought here, with a chill in the air, a foreboding sense of imminent winter bringing death and decay.

I shudder, aware that once again I have mucked up.

In my own mind on a grand scale and merely saying “I’m sorry!” doesn’t begin to cover it.

I strongly believe in the power and magic of words yet I misinterpret the wisdom of others and in return speak the cruellest words to the kindest of people seemingly without a second thought.

“Do I get another go? “ I ask tentatively, longing to make amends.

I’ve lost track of the number of chances I’ve used up but while my angel still weeps over me I know all is not lost.

As she lifts her head I look deeply into her eyes filled with compassion and love.

She nods smiling weakly. Leaning forward I catch a few perfect teardrops as they fall.

My chance of redemption captured in their sorrow.

I can try again, somewhere new, a different place and perhaps this time no one will get hurt. I will keep my sharp words hidden and sprinkle all my comments with love.

Perhaps next time I won’t get hurt – although that might be one wish too much to ask for.

Swallowing my tears I start again.

(250 words )

De-clutter

It’s half term and I came up with a cunning plan. 

I told the boys in advance before the holiday even began, “we are going to have a sort out! If anyone wants to buy this house we really have to clear out some of the clutter. I am not taking it with us to a new home.”

Youngest son has done quite well, admittedly he hasn’t thrown much away as yet but he has managed to sort out some of his Lego shelves, find a few missing pieces along the way and I have managed to wipe away a very thick layer of dust – yuck!

Oldest son has a large cupboard full of stuff I want him to go through – I must nag him tomorrow because he’s not even made a start yet. His half term has so far comprised of revision, going to the gym, watching tennis and writing his blog.

Meanwhile I’ve begun but not got very far, I’ve set myself quite a challenge as I have lots of rooms to go through however as I have started in the guest room where the laptop usually lives I have been distracted all too often by the lure of Twitter!!!

However I have made the momentous decision to finally chuck out ALL of my card making paraphernalia. I am going to pass some onto a friend who’s just taken it up as a hobby. 

((Never ever tell anyone you have started a new hobby or a collection you will always get inundated with stuff. It’s why I have accumulated so much in the first place!))

But I am only passing on the very best and most useful stuff; it’s not fair to give her the crap as well!

It has been surprisingly liberating to throw out and let go of scraps of paper and card I will never use! The more I threw away the easier it became; I have gathered momentum and become completely ruthless!

In a lot of ways it is easy, I have no emotional attachment to the pretty scraps torn from magazines and packaging but I need to move on next to cards I have received and kept and that could be trickier. 

You see I still have every single wedding acceptance card, every wedding and engagement card, all my 40^th birthday cards and probably the largest pile of all – about a hundred condolence cards.

To be honest they don’t take up a huge amount of space, perhaps I could keep them all, but why? Do I really NEED them ALL?

It was my dad who has been the most helpful, “Just keep a few, the special ones.” He said to me the other night on the phone.

And I know that’s the right answer and they were the words I needed to hear. I’ve heard them before but coming from my dad, just at that moment was particularly timely.

I just can’t keep everything and I’m realising more and more that part of grieving is letting go and moving on and if I don’t let go I can’t move forward and I have felt stuck for far too long.

I want to sell the house but I need to prepare for the day I get a phone call that sets that chain of events in motion. I hate waiting for things to happen so much but I think it’s finally hit me there are lots of things I can do to get ready. Sitting around moping is no longer an option!

So we are making progress with the boys’ stuff, my things and some shared possessions but then we move on to the most challenging items of all – what do I do with Andrew’s belongings? The things he cherished and horded and collected.

Some items I disposed of quickly but others have been lingering as I decide my best course of action. In the back of your mind you always wonder at an objects worth, if I throw this out will I regret it in a few years’ time when I discover it is valuable!

Finally I got hold of someone to come and look at Andrew’s record collection (I made a bit of a mess trying to dispose of them before)  his opinion is that most of them are worthless on the open market. Most are too scratched and the picture sleeves are missing, like a lot of DJs Andrew filed them away in plain cases and stuck number stickers on them to keep them filed away neatly and that devalues them.

Out of six boxes he only took a handful of vinyl away to try and sell on eBay. I might make £30 from the transaction if I am lucky.

It’s not about the money, that’s irrelevant in this instance, but I need the space in my life and I can’t hold onto these things any longer. With some regret and a deep breath I think I need to take a trip to the tip. 

It’s a bold step but I need to de-clutter, get rid of objects and emotions to move on and after three and a half year I am just about ready to do that.

I know there will be comments; youngest son has started already this morning saying I shouldn’t. 

I just burst into tears but I can’t hold onto all these things any longer, they weigh my down and I want to be free.

So please DON’T judge me, DON’T tell me I am foolish and NEVER tell me I am throwing away something valuable. Once these things were pure treasure but only I know their true worth now.

Of course some I will keep, “just the special ones,” as my dad would say and feeling less burdened I am more ready to begin a new adventure…

 

you wandered through my dreams last night...

Next Wednesday it will be twenty years since our wedding day but when Andrew died the clock stopped at sixteen years, six months, six days and a little under 3 hours.

On Wednesday there will be little to actually “celebrate” but the memories have already started churning, which is probably why last night I dreamt of Andrew.

It doesn’t happen very often. To be honest I try NOT to even think of him too much because it hurts. I fill my days with other distractions, most notably at the moment the Musketeers.

But I’ve written a poem and this seems as good a place as any to share it because I’ve never been one for keeping my thoughts and feelings to myself….

you wandered through my dreams last night

disturbing my deepest thoughts

I know I can never escape you

and although it often brings some comfort

to imagine you are always watching

seeing you again

makes me miss you

far too much

rings no longer worn - kept forever together in a draw

Dear God, I’ve been expecting you…

Today I am linking up with Ruth and Sabrina and their "letters to..." prompt

There seems to have been "something" going around recently, a lot of my blogging friends have felt overwhelmed by life and lacking in words to write. So today's prompt is called...

"A letter to... fill you in..."

It's a chance to catch up with what's been going on.  I decided to write my letter specifically to GOD... because I probably need to catch up with him as well as my friends...

Dear God, I’ve been expecting you…

This verse turned up on my facebook newsfeed today…

I remember two and a half years ago using it to end a blog post, Andrew had only been dead six months but I was so certain YOU would turn my life around just as this verse promised. YOU are the most high, YOU can do anything. I’ve read that verse that YOU have plans for me a thousand times…

…but here I am still hanging on…impatiently waiting.

I wish I knew what was going to happen when YOU eventually turn up! All my dreams appear to be in tatters and nowhere near coming true. I chase after rainbow promises filled with a renewed sense of hope that fizzles out within days.

At least that’s how it feels on a bad day and November has had far too many tear filled days and nights.

I suppose that is to be expected too – we passed the three year anniversary of Andrew’s death on Wednesday 13th. So I am now in my fourth year of being a widow – I SHOULD be better at this by now, less NEEDY and EMOTIONAL. The world has moved on and I am stuck in a rut waiting for the good things I thought YOU promised.

Perhaps I’ve been reading YOUR words all wrong, interpreting them in accordance to my own agenda.

I guess the time has arrived to put the daydreams to one side, pull my socks up and get on with life as it is NOW. After all I am supposed to be a grown up, I need to start acting like one and stop the temper tantrums. 

As a “friend” reminded me on Facebook I have much to be thankful for, my health, my children the blue sky etc etc etc!

I deleted that comment, feeling guilty at my lack of joy and selfish for wanting so much more and so full of rage. Tears bubbled over and… well it’s just NOT FAIR!

And yet the Psalms are full of indignation and anger at a God who doesn’t deliver in the way we want him to. 

God your shoulders are so wide they can accommodate my tears, my punches.

YOU said you were coming to rescue me, YOU said be brave, be strong…

I’m neither but I’m hanging on, not quite giving up…

…and I'm still here EXPECTING YOU!