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!

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Families, Inspiration, real life, Spirt and soul, Uncategorized, Whatever, women

I see a different me.

I wonder how many of us have the same feelings. That we are moving forward, but somewhere part of us stays back in the past when we were young without a care in the world. I often say to people, my body is 50+, but my mind is still 19. Dancing the night away, drinking a little too much, laughing a little too loudly, and staying a little too long.

 

I know what my chronological age is, but my mind thinks I’m someone else. It doesn’t see me as the lady of mature years, who often has a back problem, who suffers with her hips, and who has to colour her hair to cover the grey. It hasn’t quite got the hang of the crow’s feet and the worry lines around my eyes and my fore head. And for that I’m very grateful. The shadow I catch walking alongside me on that warm summers days, is mine. It’s slim and lithe, purposeful and dare I say elegant. It’s certainly not the description I would use for myself.

 

And the young person who dances to the rave music, waving her arms in the air. She was around in the 90’s, she joins me often when my favourite music comes on the radio, and we spend a while dancing the time away. I catch a glimpse of her in the kitchen window, or in the shadow of the fridge. She keeps me going, she makes my heart feel young, and all the time she is willing to follow me on my life’s journey it makes me feel happy and contented with my life now and in the past. We have been together she and I, 30 years of loving the same man. We both had babies together and she carried hers in the shadows, while I rocked mine in the light. But I would see her holding the hand of her young son, and hear her comforting words, in those same shadows. And I often thought how like mine they were reassuring, and gentle. We have walked the same path together, me getting older, while she has remained young and fresh. She watches over me like a guardian angel, and when I see her – she often give me a sideways glance of reassurance. And that is why I love that shadow of mine who follows me trustingly and with dedication

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Families, Family, Inspiration, New life, real life, Spirt and soul, Uncategorized, women

Mums of the world unite

Mums of the world unite. In love and hard work, through the pain of child birth, or the tears of a child. Your not defined through the reproduction of offspring but the late nights with hot foreheads or scuffed knees. Maths homework or growing food and the collection of water together. Through feast and famine, through blood or love.

Mums of the world stand united with hearts of love and arms of support.

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Inspiration, mental health, real life, Spirt and soul, Uncategorized

Footprints in the sand

I am drawn to the sea and the beach.
It lifts my spirit and though is often bustling, makes me feel calm in myself.
This picture makes me feel there is nothing more simple than a footprint in the sand.

Life often doesn’t need to be any more complicated.

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