Families, Family, Inspiration, loss, love, mental health, New life, real life, social media, Spirt and soul, Uncategorized, Whatever, women

My life

Looking back on the story of my life, I see a time punctuated with love and laughter, with sadness and joy.

From the poor childhood filled with green and grey memories, the grass and the slate, the rain and the rain!
A life filled with loneliness and rituals.
Sickness and long corridors. Crying and sadness.

Lifelong friendships made on bus journeys, new experiences, and places.
Others lifestyles, and others laughter.
Finding love and loosing love, finding it again – only for it to drift away as young lust does.

A change of life, a change of culture, change of pace and language.
A change of love, a father figure who was anything but an ideal role model,
and thankfully never a father.

Memories left behind, together with the bruises and what little hope there was of happiness.
Anger and rage, rules and rebukes.

A knight in shining armour, a prince who had shared my memories before.
He who gave me back my hope and love, unconditional and everlasting love!
And in return I gave bricks and mortar and sunny times.

A time of sadness, a time of loss again and again.
The ones who loved me in a sea of others, stolen away without saying goodbye.
Without being able to share my hopes and telling that better life story I’d planned with my prince.

Stolen love and kisses at 1am gave milky smiles, not once but twice.
Tiny hands clutching at hair and sleepy eyes, and the smell only new born have.
Blue and blue double trouble!

Lasting memories of A&E and adventurous toddlers.
Nuts and bolts, falling off logs and stitches, diving for alligators, snails, M&M’s and runny noses.
Each word conjuring up a memory of boys and daily life in the household! Words when said, run like a film clip in my mind of those events.

Chaos and bike chains, swimming lesson, dirty football boots.
Discovering difficulties and challenges, jam and pizza.
Mundane and regular.

Summer holidays with kites, camping and caravans.
Rain and sun cream all rolled into one. Lasting friendships made – for 10 days.
Dancing and slush puppies.
Family holidays under the dome, ducks and deer, silently watching the apples and the bread through the glass of a cosy warm chalet.


A time of horror.
Of long train and bus journeys, of sadness and pain.
Innocence gone in the blink of an eye. Scars carried like armour, making him strong, but still so very innocent.

Driving and cars. One, two, eight or is it nine?
Young love, innocent and gentle. Shared beliefs and dreams.
Counting the years, counting the homes and now counting the babies.

A time of joy. Of long train and car journeys, of happiness and new experiences.
Hard work, and new technology.
Missing the long and lean boy sleeping on the sofa, mixing with the rich and elite, a new life experiences, built on hard work.

And now in the autumn of my life, I look back on this colourful patchwork of events. Some with sadness, most with joy.
Each nugget of memory lodged in my heart to bring out in conversation with family and friends.
Not too dissimilar from other’s lives, but my memories never the less.
Each day, each year, each smile, each tear punctuating hours and years.

It’s not over yet, more memories to have I plan and hope.
More holidays, more sun, less of something.
Lets see!

Families, Inspiration, loss, love, real life, Uncategorized, Whatever, women

Memories of mam

Those around me are drowning in sorrow at the minute. It’s such a very sad time.

And it has made me remember my mam, and how very much I loved her, and still do. And every day I miss her so very much.

I’m listening to stories of long drawn out illnesses, and brave battles fought again and again. And long lives lived and memories made with young families. And with the greatest of sadness, a life not much older than mine being snatched away, while those around are helpless, and wordless – but not without a river of tears.

I had no time really to say good bye, just good night. The next morning she had gone, before I had time to tell her our plans of grandchildren and weddings. I know she didn’t want to go, it wasn’t how she planned it, I’m sure of that. Her favourite shopping was for hats. But life is both blessed and cruel. On one hand a fine engagement ring, on the other funeral plans. I’d just come back from Paris, where my kind loving boy had given me his undying love and knelt under the tower to ask me to be with him till death do us part.

I’d found one love and lost another – in the blink of an eye.

That’s why we need to say ‘I love you’ every day, with genuine feeling in our eyes. We need to build memories, not hide secrets. And treasure the family we have, for as long as we have them.

Families, Family, Inspiration, loss, love

Purple balloons

Each year on your birthday

We will send purple balloons skyward
Filled with love and loss.

The breath of loved ones

Floating to meet those perfect hands

And everlasting youth.
You will be forever in our hearts

And your name will be on our lips

And in our minds and dreams.

Skye Lilly darling baby.

Family, genealogy, history, Inspiration, loss, real life, Uncategorized, women, Writing

My history and I

Our holiday this year has been arranged around two old postcards that were written by my grandmother Elizabeth Williams in 1954 to my mother. She was born in 1887, in a small village in the middle of Carmarthen called Trefeurig. It was a rural area, not many houses, lots of miners lived and worked in the area. Her father Richard Williams who was born in 1860 was one of those miners, he died at a relatively young age of 30 in 1890. At the time her mother had a young baby of 9 months (called Richard), two young sons of 4years old (Luther)  and a 2 year old (Thomas) and her daughter Elizabeth  – my grandmother.

Richard’s parents were Thomas and Margaret Williams. Thomas was born in about 1813. He married Margaret Williams, who was about 3 years younger than he was, and in total had 5 children. 4 sons, and 1 daughter. This is where our history becomes very confusing. The children were called Elizabeth (19), John (16) Thomas (8) Methusalem (8) and finally Richard the youngest at 1 year old – my great grandfather- Elizabeth’s father. Names were handed down in families hence the same names appearing in two generations of family.

Generally around that time children came along on a very regular basis due to the lack of birth control, normally one a year. So it is probably likely there were some still births in this and many other families, who have not be registered on the census records of 1861 that these details have come from.

The post cards I have kept for many years were written to my mum and dad in 1954. They are of two places that my grandmother had visited on her trip to west wales. It doesn’t say where she was staying, but as this place is so very near to the place her family originated from, it was highly likely that she was staying with some family.

She tells her daughter and her son-in law (my mam and dad) about the places she has visited.

‘having a lovely time out each afternoon, pity dad bach isn’t with me. I have all the places on a paper. went to Aberystwyth yesterday 10in the morning. Called at ^^^^^^ bungalow 9 of them there, very nice. a scorching afternoon after the rain, and returned Newquay we intend going to Tenby tomorrow. St Dogmails is a lovely place you get town and country here. Sat will soon be  here now hope you are both feeling good.Let us know what time to expect you home on sat. hope you have good digs I will not write again now. Kindest regards from Elfyn and Mena. fondest love mam xx and in the margin .our church marked with a spot (dogmael) ‘

I have had these postcards in my possession since my grandmother died in 1978 when she was about 92. I’ve never taken that much notice of what they were, they were just two sepia  postcards, that she had written. 4 years ago I started researching my family tree, and they became a big part of the jigsaw. She said that she was with Elfyn (her son) and his wife Mena. I had found that they lived near to his place. And in fact Elfyn had died the year I was born in 1960, in this area. On the card she makes reference to dad bach, her husband, or in those days the husband was known as dad. He had died just before this card was written.

So why am I telling you all this? Well – we decided that our holiday would be a great opportunity to visit this village where the post cards were from. We researched a local hotel, booked the break, and this story is built around the postcards.

The Cliff Hotel overlooks Poppit Sands in Cardigan. The Teify Estuary leads out to the Irish sea, Poppit Sands is on one side, and the Cliff Hotel is on the other side There is a coast guard station there, a café that does the most amazing Bara Bryth. a selection of Holiday homes, and a YHA (Youth Hostel Association) place to stay. We drove round the estuary, and parked the car in the little car park. We had a coffee in the café, and then walked onto the beach. The wide expanse of golden sand, peppered with little flecks of black and tiny pebbles and discarded cockle shells. Although it was a damp day, it certainly didn’t deter the dog walkers, dogs don’t mind the rain or the wet as they jumped in and out of the waves.

My heart soared, as I thought that this was a beach that my grandmother  (or nain as she was known to her grand children) had walked on. Of course I’d been to many places with her as I grew up with her  and she lived with us until she passed away when I was 18. I could imagine her with her son, and daughter in law travelling around in a little car, looking at the same view I was looking at. Maybe sitting in the same sea side café, and if I know my nain, eating the same cake I was eating, she had  a sweet tooth! Probably where I get it from. Of course I’d been to many places with her, she had lived with our family from when I was 8 so I grew up with her until she passed away when I was 18.

I’d like to think that she went there to gain some comfort from family, having recently been widowed. And although back in the mining communities of the early part of the last century, you appreciate that death was a part of their lives – mining accidents, and child mortality being a more regular occurrence than today – I don’t think they were so hardened to it that they were void of sadness and distress.

We then went to St Dogmaels. A quaint village perched on the mountain side. Winding streets with little houses brightly coloured cling to the mountain, and tumbled down the hill. The 60 year old picture on the post card looked nothing like the village of today, and it was difficult to find out anything that appeared on the card, so we went to the ruins of the Abbey with a little heritage centre that has a lovely café inside.

I kept this post card in my hand trying to find any reference to anything we had seen. Then when I looked for the umpteenth time, it was like a light bulb moment. There on the post card in the middle were the ruins. I had never seen them like this before – I thought they were houses. It all fell into place, and although the village on the card didn’t look like the village in 2016, the trees were more overgrown, and there of course were newer properties in the sight line I could see the village of 1955.

What an amazing day, I look some pictures of the houses in the village, as a reminder of our trip. We walked through the car park to the banks of the estuary, we saw a heron trying to catch some lunch for himself, a young man getting ready for the St Dogmaels market which is held on a Tuesday, where sellers and buyers travel from near and far.

I will go back, and visit this magical and historical place again.

Inspiration, Laughter, loss, Uncategorized, women

Daily Prompt: Together

hiding under the duvetvia Daily Prompt: Together

Each year, round about September, a group of smartly dressed women meet in a restaurant. They are all the right side of 55 (that’s what they say!) And have know one another for a whole life time.

They share lots of life experiences. They met in college, and through the years have shared lots of good times and bad. Marriage, children, illness and loss.

And now they are looking to celebrating their 40 year frienship in the near future. As time has moved on, and new technology allows them to enjoy their relationships in inivitive ways, they are looking forward to their futures together.


Family, loss, Uncategorized

The Butterfly effect

Welcome to the twilight zone. That time when the birds are just waking up, someone has just got up to go to the toilet, and the thoughts of the day penetrate your half dazed brain. The time when that little baby not ½ mile away has just realised its feed time, and is crying for her mum to come and give her some well-deserved sustenance.

I’m not normally awake at this time of the night – sorry morning, but it’s not surprising taking into consideration all that has happened over the last 24 hours. The story about our little humble family has gone viral. Not only has it been taken up by an American organisation who have published it on one of their web sites, but the main news channel BBC News has got hold of it, and has run the story . The 4th most read article today on line! An amazing fund raising idea that came out of a story of heartbreak and loss, has been taken up and is now being used as something to create awareness. Check out the article following this link –

The Butterfly Effect

All sorts of organisations, and support networks have taken up the batten. So many families, mums dads, grandparents don’t know the words to say not just to others they come in contact with – but often their own family and friends, when they suffer such a loss. From a still birth, or loss of one baby in a multiple birth. It’s hard to hold on to the fact that often you want to celebrate new life while having to grieve, and say goodbye. Often without warning.

As a parent you go through the process with the support of medical professionals at every step of the way. You’re prepared as much as you can be, with medical explanations, and practical support. But those who stand on the periphery, the grandparents and close family are not always party to this knowledge and help. We are often left floundering on how to say things, how to offer support and sympathy, but at the same feeling inside the quiet excitement at the upcoming event, sad as you know it will be.

And then of course the idea came when a well-meaning new parent who without knowing the situation, made some polite conversation in the neo natal unit that brought tears and sadness to this mum who has suffered a great loss. That must have been the moment that broke her heart, and made the situation so much more real. Of course the neo natal unit is great at making sure as a visitor you aren’t party to confidential information spoken by health professionals about their young charges, they ask you to put headphones on when you visit. But they aren’t so good at sharing some other information. That is where this practical idea was ‘born’. A simple sticker on the cot to tell everyone that this is the surviving baby of multiple births. No one has to explain anything – everyone can see straight away. And even though it’s not there to dampen your enthusiasm at your new baby – it makes you aware that some sensitivity is needed.

It’s not going to stop there, hopefully the fundraising will go on to make the lives of those in just this situation a little more bearable. More private rooms, a place to retire to and not have to see the joy of others through your sadness. And support and counselling. Something to help in your darkest hours.

Brilliant ideas are born from often difficult situations. This is one of those. It’s not just about the simple sticker, but the awareness that this subject has brought to families.

Family, loss, Uncategorized

So go and run free

In memory of my granddaughter Skye Lily

So go and run free

So go and run free with the angels
Dance around the golden clouds
For the lord has chosen you to be with him
And we should feel nothing but proud
Although he has taken you from us
And our pain a lifetime will last
Your memory will never escape us
But make us glad for the time we did have
Your face will always be hidden
Deep inside our hearts
Each precious moment you gave us
Shall never, ever depart
So go and run free with the angels
As they sing so tenderly
And please be sure to tell them
To take good care of you for me

Author unknown.