Monday, 29 September 2008
Friday, 26 September 2008
Thursday, 25 September 2008
By contrast on Tuesday when I wanted to feel more confident and strong I chose a very different outfit. Short black pinstripe skirt, black tank top blouse and jacket finished with black stockings and black court shoes.
Wednesday I was feeling strong enough not to need the power suit so I wore black trousers, with a red camisole under a sheer black blouse embroidered with stars, finishing the out fit with these red shoes.
Today I went for a softer look wearing the black trousers again but this time with a white short sleeved blouse with a pink scarf and my pink sling back shoes.
I wonder what I shall choose tomorrow
Wednesday, 24 September 2008
Monday, 22 September 2008
Sunday, 21 September 2008
Friday, 19 September 2008
In the last couple of weeks life has got in the way of blogging. Mostly that has been due to falling asleep but that also includes apathy. Not rushing to my blog to write a post or reply to comments. I think a lot of it is just being very tired all the time. I do read and appreciate the comments left here but just don't have the energy or the words to reply. I have not even been to visit all my favourite blogs, don't ask me why because I don't know the answer.
I am writing this quick post now mainly because I am off out again tonight for another wedding. So that is one funeral and two weddings in 8 days.
I am I guess feeling down because I have not heard from Romeo (his last text sunday before last telling me he was thinking about me). I am not worried or fretting that there is anything wrong between us. I am quite confident on that score. But I miss him so much. I have been through the various stages of being frantic that a day then two passed with no word, the need to be in contact everyday. The anxiety of how often should I text email him when I am getting no response. I am now in the calm space where I just wait th here from him, I am not constantly checking my phone or email. But in the evenings I find myself gazing at his picture willing him to be in contact. I open my phone to send him a text but have nothing to say. There are only so many times/ways of texting 'I miss you' without being like a broken record. I feel sad, alone, unloved, distant. But I know that when he returns he will let me know hes back and it will be as though this distance never was.
I am busy at work and tired at home, I am not just sitting around moping. When I have caught up with sleep and have the energy I am going to crack on with more writing. Anyway, I am still here just being quiet in the corner where I am not intruding on the world. Give me a few days and I shall bounce back all bright and breezy as usual.
Wednesday, 17 September 2008
Sunday, 14 September 2008
Friday, 12 September 2008
Wednesday, 10 September 2008
In October 1983 a very important lady left my world. I was devastated to say the least, that sunday morning I walked from one end of town to the other and back again, finally ending up at a friend's family home. Even at such an eary hour on an Autumn Sunday, my grief stopped me from staying wrapped up in my warm cosy bed, the bed I had only got into a few brief hours earlier. I felt selfish, I was so wrapped up in my own distress that I was not ready to comfort my mother in her hour of need. I had sat on the stairs and sobbed even before the news was passed on. I knew without being told you see.
The very fact that the phone had rung at 6am on a sunday was warning enough, but hearing his voice on the line, cracking up as he asked to speak to my mother. There was only one thing this unexpected call could mean. Like many men, especially in those days, he didn't like to talk on the phone, preferring to let his wife do this for him. But on this sad occasion he had no choice, his wife was gone, taken from him in the night, he was the only one who could do this. It was his duty and his need to be the one to tell his daughter that her mother was nolonger by his side.
My sadness was so consuming that it tainted my joy in writing, I could no longer continue to amuse myself by writing. Over the years I wished I could again pick up my pen, but it just was not to be. Then in January 2007 it began. I wrote a fantasy, I enjoyed writing it. My friends enjoyed reading it so I wrote more. Over the past 18 months I have written a number of pieces. Not as much as I would like although I have a growing store of beginnings, locked away in a file called creative writing. Last September I joined a creative writing class and really enjoyed it. I stopped going at Christmas when I began to work full time hours, I needed to give myself time to get used to working longer hours. I enjoy my work so the longer hours don't worry me but I do get tired.
I had been pondering whether to go back to my writing classes. I have now made my decision with the help of my grandpa. One of the pices I wrote for the class last year was inspired by the retirement home where he was living at the time. I enjoy that piece which was so different to anything else I had written. Now that my Grandpa has died I could give up writing as I did when my Granny died but instead I am going to write more than ever.
I added another new widget so who is going to be first to use it. just click on the link to follow this blog
Tuesday, 9 September 2008
So I have been dozing on and off all evening, feeling more awake now but with no intention of writing a blog post................yeah right so what do you call this then I hear you say. Now are you sitting comfortably, there are cushions scattered around my side bar if you need one (sorry they all seem to be RED or PINK) and I will begin.
Not wanting to go to the bother of writing a post I decide to satisfy my blog addiction by visiting a few of my blog pals. One of these is Trousers, he isn't a frequent visitor here, just as I visit him from time to time but not religiously. We have met a couple of times and he is not only a lovely man but interesting too. Anyway I am reading his post about having a panic attack which by the way rings a couple of bells for me. I move onto his comment box and find several references to people arriving from the Black Boxes Widget. Now just like a cat or is that a pussy I am always curious so I have scrolled up and down his blog a few times looking for this Black Box thingy but there is nothing there so I move on amd forget about it.
After I have had my fix of blogs I went over to face book which I do infrequently, there was a link on there from dj Kirkby for the Black Boxes widget. So now my curiousity really has been piqued. Following the link I find myself on Caroline Smailes blog. Now I have seen Caroline comment on blogs and dj mentions her frequently but I have never checked her out myself. It now appears that Caroline has a new book titled Black Boxes, another blogger has designed this rather smart widget along the theme of Caroline's book. You click on a set of choices and depending on your answers it takes you to a mystery blog. The more people take part the more blogs you will visit. (If you are a slave to blog hits this could be right up your street).
So I had a go at it and wouldn't you just know it, first blog it takes me to is Trousers. I have had several other goes and gone to other blogs I wouldn't have visited otherwise.
Here is the widget so you can all join in with the fun. I have already installed it in my side bar so you can continue to play anytime. I figured after the last week I needed to have a little frivolity on my blog.
so I have done a first draft of memories, I thought I would try it out on you lucky lot. I have decided, without conferring with the brothers, that instead of writing it as though I am describing memories to people who don't know him (we all do). I am doing it as though this is just another visit where we reminisce about the past. See what you think, does this work. your
feed back would be appreciated.
Hello Grandpa Bill,
Are you awake?
It’s LiR and I have D and T with me, we have been talking about the things we remember from when we were children. Do you remember all those times we went with you when you walked your dog Candy through woodlands and along winding farm tracks. Do you remember the treats you always carried in your pockets, there were dog biscuits for Candy and foxes glacier mints for the rest of us. As we walked along you would tell us things, sometimes it was about the countryside around us and other times your adventures on your travels. T has been remembering the humour in your stories, I always liked to hear about the time when you were stopped from boarding a plane after a visit to India, you had gone so brown that they thought you were a native.
In your younger days with your love of gardening you always had that tanned weather beaten colour, unlike these last years when you lost most of that colour through being stuck inside so much. But wasn’t it lovely for you to sit in the sun lounge when you were living at Oak Mount. Do you remember that day when a bird got inside and couldn’t escape, I was so afraid that you would have a panic attack with the fear of birds that you always had but you were brave and allowed me to encourage him to the open window.
When we were children and we stayed with you and Granny Pat, you spent a lot of time tending your garden, it was always bright with flowers, but the brightest of them all were the marigolds, proper ones not like those French ones you see so much now. We all remember sitting quietly while you watched your favourite Western Films, or if it wasn’t westerns you liked to watch Top of the pops but your favourite bit was always when those dancing girls ‘Pans People’ were dancing to the latest hit.
After you retired and moved down to the middle of nowhere, deep in the heart of Dorset , you had your work cut out for you in the form of pesky moles. You tried everything known to man to get them out of your vegetable garden. Mind you I am sure us children caused as much damage to your garden as the moles did. If we were not building a camp out of bits of wood we were chasing butterflies with our nets.
By the time you moved to Village we were all growing up and doing our own thing so we didn’t see you so much anymore. But just because we didn’t visit so often didn’t mean you were forgotten, just as you won’t be forgotten now. We all have children of our own now and you are a great grandpa to DC, OJ, ET, JA, HM, H and E. As well as those little boys in America, Uncle Rick's grand children through his adopted daughters A and S.
Grandpa Bill your memory will always live on in our hearts and in the pictures you created with your eye for detail in every painting you did. I am sure each of us will visit with you again soon so for now sleep in peace until you feel the touch on your arm to let you know we are here once again.
Your loving grandchildren LiR (Nellie as only you could call me) D and T.
Sunday, 7 September 2008
Saturday, 6 September 2008
My Grandpa (thats the name we used) or Grandpa Bill as he wanted us to call him Bill once we became adults but we just couldn't drop the Grandpa bit. He will be cremated on Friday at 3.15, it will only be a small gathering, my mum and me of course, both my brothers and their wives. My Grandpa's late partner G (they never married although they were together for 21 years until she was claimed by Cancer) younger son. My Brother D will be giving him a lift as although in his time he was a professional driver, even chauffeur to the stars (often Alan Titchmarsh) R is now almost completely blind in his early 60s. Possibly Rose (Grandpa had a soft spot for G's hairdresser) she became a close friend of his in the last few years,with her husband.
SF has expressed a wish to be there if I allow him, I have agreed on the proviso that he doesn't drink. My eldest son DC automatically made arrangements to have time off work, no question of not being there. JA my baby has also said he would like to attend. I will have to tell the school to let him out early. There may also be one or two people from the Nursing home, but there won't be anyone else, he has out lived his friends and older family. There is still a cousin who is in his 90s still living in East Anglia, they have not seen each other for many many years.
My mum was meant to be going away for a few days on Thursday, she and her friend Vee were going to Norfolk from Thursday until Sunday morning. Vee's husband M was due to pick me up (not literally but by car) sunday morning so that we could join them at a hotel not far from Norwich. Because at 3.30pm on sunday our mutual friend 'garden fairy' is getting married. We would stay the night in the hotel and make our way home again on monday. I booked the day off from work way back in March. Now that Grandpa has died and his funeral is on Friday mum and Vee have cancelled their short break. Garden fairy has said she would understand if we didn't want to go to the wedding. But we have both said we will be there with bells on. After all didn't I just spend my week's leave searching ebay for suitable clothing to wear for this special occassion.
The reason I call the bride 'garden fairy' is that when I was very ill back in 2001, I was not strong enough to work on my garden. GF would arrive at random times over the weekends and some evenings to tend my garden for me. She worked full time in a senior management post, has suffered for years with back problems, but she wanted to do this for me. She never told us she was there, she never wanted anything for her work. It would only be when someone saw her through the window or went to the door and found her crouched over my flowerbeds that we knew she was there. A few years ago GF and her elderly mother moved back to Norfolk where she had grown up. Not long after she moved she met a lovely semi retired man who has been a breath of fresh air in her life. I have met the groom a couple of times in the last couple of years and know that these two people are so well suited that it shows that even middle aged women can have their fairytales come true. They give me hope and inspire me, with belief that life can be good, you don't have to be young to be happy.
So on sunday we will be setting off early to attend Garden Fairy's wedding. She is such a lovely lady she deserves this happiness. Joking the other day I said to my mum that we have the wedding and the funeral all we need now is a baby. That was when she said, 'did you see the email from AD'? It seems that the one life for another cycle is repeating itself. A few years ago my mum's only brother died suddenly in a road accident in Texas where he had lived for many years. His adopted daughter from his second marriage gave birth to her first child 2 weeks later. Since then she has had 2 more sons, her latest email was to announce that she is expecting her 4th child in a few months. So now we have all three.
Friday, 5 September 2008
I can't help feeling that he would have preferred it that way. He wouldn't have wanted us to be sat there watching for his last breath. Waiting for his last moment. We had said our goodbyes hours earlier. He had not been aware of what was happening for hours, he had had enough. We had been there for him when he was still conscious, that was more important to us and him.
Thursday was a strange day waking up feeling crap (having been awake until 5am) I still cant believe that at one point I told my mum I felt like death 'warmed up'. It was only later I realised what I had said. When I mentioned it to my mum she said she had noticed and had chuckled to herself. But she agreed that she felt as though she had a hangover. The day was a mixture of phone calls and sleeping.
One phone call I hadn't expected was SF, he had tried calling me at work. To give his sympathy?
No he didn't know grandad had gone. He does now and I have said he can attend the funeral (if he doesn't drink first). No he was phoning to ask me to lend him £50 to tide him over until he gets paid next week. I really wish he wouldn't put me in this situation. Most months I find myself just scraping through with no spare money. But I do still have money in the bank not that I want him to know that. I don't want to be lending him money but I feel that if I say no then he might be less willing to help me out next time I need it. (hopefully those days are now over). Equally I don't want to set a precedence for him to keep begging me for money every time he wants beer or cigarettes. I gave him £20. I could have managed more but don't feel it would be helpful to either of us if I did.
Wednesday, 3 September 2008
Mid morning my mum called, my granddad had been taken to hospital, she was waiting to find out which hospital. In the meantime she had an appointment to see her consultant about her knee at 1pm. She would call me later to let me know which hospital grandad was now in. If it is the ‘Super Hospital’ which is more or less on my way home, I would visit him after work.
A short time later another call, he is in the Super Hospital would I be able to take her to visit him, with her bad knee she can’t walk from the car park it is to far.
What time do you want me to pick you up?
Now!! the hospital, have said I should come now, it might still be too late.
Abandoning my work saying I may or may not be back later I rush off to get my mum, 35 minutes later I have dropped her off at A & E whilst I find somewhere to park. A quick call home to let the boys know where I am, and off to find my mum. I am ok as I make my way across the car park and along the road passing buildings still under construction, but as I turn the corner towards A & E it hits me the last time I was here. But more about that later.
I was directed to where granddad was laying on a trolley surrounded by medical staff. A doctor was talking to mum. As soon as I arrived granddad seemed pleased to see me, holding out his hand and trying to say something. I took his hand in mine, for a few moments I really thought this is it, he’s going to die right here right now, while I’m holding his hand. He was trying to talk but I was not able to make out what it was. Already he had pulled off the oxygen mask, he is very weak, but his grip is firm. After a minute of stroking my hand he relaxes back against his pillows. My wild imagination convinces me that he is happy he has his daughter and granddaughter with him, now he can let go.
But I was wrong; he still has too much fight left in him. My granddad is 94 and has never been ill in his life until he caught pneumonia 18 months ago. This now is his third bout of pneumonia. The doctor explains that one of his lungs is now very bad. Mother and I follow as he is moved to an assessment ward. Still he fights off every attempt to give him an oxygen mask, even when one is successfully put in place it is not long before he has taken it off.
My granddad is lying in his hospital bed looking like a tiny white haired frail man little more than a skeleton. Drips and wires trailing fro his bed, his breathing a laboured rattle. He sleeps fitfully, we sit quietly by his side wanting to be there for him but knowing that he is past being aware of us. We are both becoming hungry so regretfully I left mum sitting there as I went in search of the shop for a sandwich and drink each. It didn’t take me long to find the corridor where the shop used to be, but it had moved. Ten minutes later back on the ward as we munched our sarnies the physio explained that she wants to try to shift the fluid from his lung by pushing a tube down his nose and into his lung. I can’t help feeling that this is wrong.
I don’t want to lose this man who I have loved all my life, the man who took us children on long country walks with his dog, always having mints in his pocket to hand out to everyone. The man I was slightly afraid of but loved anyway. The man who even after he retired was always up by 6am every day. The man who told me in 1983 when my gran died that he wouldn’t be here in 10 years time. The man who a year later was embarrassing me by asking my advice on how to keep an erection when he was with his new partner. The frail man who looked after his partner on his own until she was admitted to hospital with cancer in 2005. The man I would drive every weekend to visit his partner in Bournemouth Hospital until she died. The man who continued to live alone until he became too weak to manage and moved into a rest home in September 2006 aged 92. The man who in February 2007 began to tell us about his time in the second world war when he was on secret missions travelling into Southern France, going into hiding from the Germans until he could be rescued. Things he had never mentioned before, because he had signed the Official Secrets Act. But now he wanted his family to know about it and he felt that it wouldn’t be a security breach now.
I shall be sorry when he is not here any more, but I feel it would be so much better for him if he was just left in peace to fade away. At 94, unable to dress himself, feed himself or do anything other than watch the tv which he can’t always hear, this lovely man who is still in possession of an active mind has nothing left to hang to for.
We left the hospital late afternoon, he was sleeping, he hasn’t tried to speak since I first arrived. Tonight they have moved him to a room on his own. Mum and I talked on the way home and over a cup of tea at her place. We are both feeling a little sad although not upset. We both feel that this time he may not make it. We are glad that we were there for him this afternoon. If my mum gets a call in the night to say that he is going I shall of course rush to get her back to the hospital. I don’t feel that I must be there when he dies, if I am needed by either of them I shall be there but I feel like I said my goodbyes to him today. If he pulls through I shall be happy, but this time I think he will give up. But having said that, I have been surprised how firm his grip was and his determination to rid himself of all gas and air masks. So there is still fight in him even if that is just instinct.
As things stand at present, I shall go to work as normal tomorrow. Life goes on it has to, but I shall be paying closer attention to my mum and how she is.
I mentioned earlier the last time I was in the A & E department. It was September 2005, SF had during the night threatened me with a carving knife in front of JA (9yrs) then when JA became distressed, he took an overdose of his anti depressants, I called an ambulance, took JA to my mum’s the older boys wanted to stay at home so they could get themselves off to school etc in the morning. When I arrived at the hospital SF was being assessed. Hours later it was evident that he had only pretended to over dose. SF was then seen by the mental health team before he was discharged.
This was one of the lowest points for me, I had already begun divorce proceedings. Today brought back the vivid recollection of sitting on the ward being told by these people that I had to give him another chance, he needed my help, I have to make allowances for him in his poor mental state. I just sat there and sobbed and sobbed, they had no idea what they were asking of me. When I said to my mum today that walking around that corner had brought back memories of the last time I was here, she knew exactly what I was thinking about. It is one of the things I had shut out, very rarely talked about, best forgotten. But today I was back there, back in that place 3 years ago. But it also made me think about how far I have come in the last 3 years. There is no going back ever!!
Earlier I read Miss Understood’s purse meme which included a post she had written several years ago Russian Doll. I am linking to it here as reading it seems to apt considering this last part of my post. Do read it, Miss Understood makes a lot of sense.
1.45am just been called to go to hospital now
Tuesday, 2 September 2008
But rain tends to bring out the idiots which meant that I was doubly afraid of the new road layout as mentioned in passing in my post yesterday. I listened carefully to each travel bulletin, just waiting for the news that would surely come. Sure enough there were problems on the motorway, but further west, yeah yeah I know one junction down the road can hardly be classed as far away, but the main thing was that it wasn't going to interrupt my journey to work.
So I drove to work in heavy rain, there were still idiots without lights or only side lights. On the whole my drive was uneventful.
But it was when I reached work that it started. I am convinced that the rain was heavily laced with some kind of idiot serum. Virtually everyone I spoke to seemed to be missing a few marbles. Now the fact that the carrier firm which was delivering 2 parcels to the same place for us, managed to seperate them and send one to London and one to Manchester, nolonger surprises me.
The fact that when asking the acting warehouse manager when a local delivery was made by our own delivery van, he could find no record of the order (which was being delivered at just that moment) didn't surprise me either. This is the man who will phone me up to ask a question about an order that is in his hand , expecting me to know what the customer requires. which then means that I have to go down to the warehouse to look at it or ask him to bring it to the office. Excuse me you have the paperwork in your hand!!!!!!!!!
But the customer who rang up to ask why we had sent him some products that he had asked for the previous day as they had been missing from his original order that was a surprise. Not only that but it took me a good hour of phone calls going back and forth, paperwork checked and colleagues who had spoken to him yesterday questioned, to get to the bottom of his problem and convince him that the products were his and he has already paid for them so no we didn't want to collect them again.
My day just kept getting better and better, not.
There was also a long conversation with Garfield which culminated in him saying
If I said meet me in a hotel would you?
I think it was a shock to him that any woman would dare to turn him down. I don't know if he thinks he is a sex god or if it's his money that talks for him. He tried to persude me that it would be ok for me to meet him because Romeo is not around. He just doesn't get the idea that I have decided to be faithful to Romeo and he cannot bribe me into being unfaithful. Besides I could never get involved with someone so closely connected with my work.
But the sun did come out this afternoon and for a while the feel of warm sun on my arm was lovely and soothing. I almost forgot that I have been feeling quite down since early yesterday evening.