tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33325215232555152442024-03-13T04:52:36.713+00:00unravelling edgesMy life unravelled when my husband died. These are the threads of my life:- ramblings, poems, song lyrics, Bible verses. And this is how I'm trying to knit them back together...Sarahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07953334708365738152noreply@blogger.comBlogger127125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3332521523255515244.post-6298205521508855322017-04-18T18:57:00.001+01:002017-04-18T18:57:07.382+01:00A new blog and new beginnings...I never thought I would add anything else to this blog but just in case there is still anyone out there still following me I thought I would sign post you to a new blog I've just created about the girl in the yellow dress.<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<a href="http://daffodildress.blogspot.co.uk/2017/04/welcome-to-daffodil-dress.html" target="_blank">Daffodil Dress </a></div>
<br />
She is NOT me, she is a complete work of fiction! Any similarities to me are completely coincidental!<br />
<br />
It's me letting my hair down and writing some romantic fiction - feel free to follow if you like that sort of thing.<br />
<br />
Sarah xSarahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07953334708365738152noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3332521523255515244.post-84914597322109158822012-11-27T14:37:00.001+00:002012-11-27T14:37:37.126+00:00...and the final words go to Andrew<div class="MsoNormal" style="color: #660000;">
<span style="color: #444444;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I always knew there would be one final post on here before I leave this blog and this chapter behind.</span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #444444;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> </span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #444444;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I always knew the words I would leave with you were not words I had written but words written by the man I had the priviledge to call my husband.</span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #444444;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> </span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="color: #660000;">
<span style="color: #444444;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">He frustrated me, he challenged me, he loved me and he cared for me.</span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #444444;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> </span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #444444;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Today would have been his 51st birthday... and this seems fitting to share again as my final unravelling-edges post.</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="color: #660000;">
<span style="color: #444444;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> </span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="color: #660000;">
<span style="color: #444444;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Whereas I see my life in knitting and stitching terms or use writing analogies Andrew had a whole other ways of looking at "stuff" and making sense of the world...</span></span></div>
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<span style="mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;">The Parable of
the Scalextric Car came to me in a dream when I was in work feeling pretty
low. I’d applied for a new job with the same company in Denmark and I’d
just found out they’d offered it to someone else. I think God was
speaking to me saying,</span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<br /></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: center;">
<span style="mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;">“Hello Andrew you need to read your Bible
and pray a lot more.”</span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<span style="mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;">Plus more
besides. In the dream I was speaking in the toy service at church giving
the children’s talk. Which I did, but now I would like to share a bit
more. The pastor said it was long enough for a whole sermon.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<span style="mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;">It’s no secret
that we are having a Scalextric set for Christmas which is probably why God
chose to speak to me in these terms.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<span style="mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;">A brand new car
looks pretty good but admiring it is no good. The car was designed to go
round a track; it has a motor inside. What we need to make it go is POWER
(in this case 12v dc).</span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<span style="mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;">Now as
Christians God did not make us to be looked at (although some are better
looking than others are). We also have a purpose far, far more important
than looks and like this car we need POWER to perform our Christian
functions. So as Christians how do we get POWER?</span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<span style="mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;">We need to
pray. Prayer is like the power to the car. We will not move in our
Christian lives until we have POWER, this car will not go until it has POWER.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<span style="mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;">So we become a
Christian and we start to pray. We have POWER and we start to function in
our Christian lives as God designed us to do. As the Scalextric car will
start to move once it has POWER fed up through the pick-up braids.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<span style="mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;">So the crowds
are cheering as we head off down the pit straight. We gain loadsa
speed. But some of the stewards are shaking their heads. OH NO
there may be trouble ahead (did someone write a song about that?) because fast
approaching is the first bend and the car is travelling far, far too fast and
it disconnects from the power supplied through the track and heads towards the
living room carpet. OH DEAR!</span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<span style="mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;">Now part of my
job in work is accident investigation – come on in Morse, Sherlock and Miss
Marple. Let’s do an accident investigation into why the Scalextric car
left the track.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<span style="mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;">For the purposes
of this we assume that our onsite investigators have found no defects in the
track, the car of any equipment failure what so ever. There was no oil on
the track. So why did the scalextric car crash?</span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<span style="mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;">Well the
immediate cause is that it was travelling too fast. But now in accident
investigation we have to find out why. Underlying causes.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<span style="mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;">The driver did
not want to come off the track onto the living room carpet so why did it
happen? Why did the driver make that error? </span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<span style="mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;">Well the
conclusion of my accident investigation is lack of driving experience on the
part of the driver. So how do you get that experience to make it round
the first bend?</span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<span style="mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;">One way is to
read the instruction manual or we could talk to people who have done it before
perhaps many times. Learn by other people’s mistakes is often the best
way.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<span style="mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;">So back to our
new Christian who has now hit the first problem in their Christian life and has
left the Christian ways. How can we prevent this?</span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<span style="mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;">Well firstly in
our Christian lives we have to read the instruction manual. What has God
provided as our instruction manual? The BIBLE. Pretty big, loadsa
small print; HELP where do I start? MORE HELP required.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<span style="mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;">I’m sure there
will be by now a computer based Bible with a help button but that can only go
so far. So now it’s up to the stewards, the people in the church to
help. Between us in the church we have thousands of hours of Christian
experience that we should be able to access for help.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<span style="mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;">We had the Alpha
Course to help and then the Beta Course in this church. I cannot wait
until we have the Charlie Course. I think that one will appeal to me
somehow. Can you imagine the a large sign up at the station “Be a Charlie
– go to a church near you”? That would have the local commuters thinking
as they wait for their train.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<span style="mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;">So back to the
Scalextric car on the living room carpet. How can we get it back on the
track? Well the stewards can push it back or a huge hand from the sky can
come along (the hand of God) and reconnect it to the power – praise God.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<span style="mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;">But sadly some
cars do not make it back onto the track; they get broken and never return to
function as designed. As some Christians leave the church and never
return. We see it so many times so the best way to deal with this is to
be prepared for that first bend. Read the instruction manual, get advice
from other Christians (the stewards) and hopefully we will stay connected to
the power.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<span style="mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;">Now there are
Christians who have been coming to church for many many years. They are
good at going around the Christian racetrack with many laps of
experience. But you still have to pray because without prayer you will
stop and then you will look pretty stupid, as a Scalextric car will stop on the
track without power. The crowd will wonder what’s going on and start
shouting.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<span style="mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;">Also you will
have to read the instruction manual but you have to find all the small print to
increase your lap times to get better at going round.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiupfK3JCeolVWokXxZB3PsP0gT0fs8NV8a_vCDm4VsQs3Upq4Ly9GITt8u7GGZ7QL_x8xmFgG22NYFRA2lzu54bhTi6NsdwIQThyphenhyphenRUKQY5i0PlBnmgAkjJU7SwQFgYtU1WoE2s9wOygCA/s1600/scalextric_lewis_hamilton_1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiupfK3JCeolVWokXxZB3PsP0gT0fs8NV8a_vCDm4VsQs3Upq4Ly9GITt8u7GGZ7QL_x8xmFgG22NYFRA2lzu54bhTi6NsdwIQThyphenhyphenRUKQY5i0PlBnmgAkjJU7SwQFgYtU1WoE2s9wOygCA/s200/scalextric_lewis_hamilton_1.jpg" width="200" /></a><span style="mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;">God has given us
a fast Formula 1 car. It takes some getting used to as there are lots of
controls. Please do not be happy driving it as the family saloon as I
think I may have been doing for many years. When we start leaning to
drive a motor car most people can make it go by putting it in gear and
releasing the clutch but it is important to know where the brake is. You
have to read the instructions and gain experience and read the highway code.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<span style="mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;">As we get
competent with the basic controls life in the car becomes far more comfortable,
like when we learn to operate some great devices like the heater. That’s
the same with our Christian life, whilst the Christian message is very simple
it makes life a lot easier when we have a greater knowledge of how God
works. And looking at the instruction manual for the Christian life I
would say there is at least one lifetime’s reading to get through it all and
more importantly understand it all.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<span style="mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;">So I ask you how
good is you Christian power supply, are your pick up braids in good
condition? Are you getting full power in your life? Are you praying
if not you will stop. Are you reading the instruction manual? Are
your lap times increasing and are you getting better at handling the curves?</span></div>
</div>
Sarahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07953334708365738152noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3332521523255515244.post-68712273650053177172012-11-20T16:04:00.001+00:002012-11-20T16:04:48.912+00:00I'm mostly re-ravelling now...<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">
There are not many posts I want to share again, at least not like this reposting and adding an up to date comment. The days of unravelling-edges are numbered and soon it will just be here as an archive documenting my raw thoughts and feeling as they happened over the first 2 years of being a widow.<br />
<br />
I am proud of what I have achieved here, I never knew at the beginning just how it would end or even if I would continue, it could have been a passing phase that I grew out of!<br />
<br />
I have learned a lot about myself, about grief and the grieving process, I have grown in many ways not least as a writer.<br />
<br />
This post was written when I'd just added re-ravelling to my blog family in a time when I unravelled and re-ravelled, backwards and forwards at an alarming rate. Now I hope I am a bit more settled, contented and more at peace with life. It has taken a while and I still know there is a way to go.<br />
<br />
There's possibly one more re-post to add but for now take a look back with me into my thoughts and feeling from a year ago.<br />
<br />
<div class="post-title entry-title" itemprop="name">
<a href="http://unravelling-edges.blogspot.co.uk/2011/11/re-ravelling-unravelling-and-trying-not.html">re-ravelling, unravelling and trying not to knit too quick </a></div>
<div class="post-title entry-title" itemprop="name">
<span style="font-size: x-small;">(originally posted 21st Nov 2011)</span></div>
<br />
Now I have two blogs on the go I am always flitting between
the two. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">
<a href="http://re-ravelling.blogspot.com/">Re-ravelling</a> for those short
quirky posts of making sense of my new life and putting the pieces back
together. </div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">
Unravelling-edges for the days
when I come a bit undone and feel more reflective.</div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">
Well you can see from the top of the page where this is
placed, it is perhaps an indicator of my current mood.</div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">
As is always the case those potentially difficult days you
plan for are the ones that pass smoothly and it’s the odd days in between which
trip you up.</div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">
The anniversary of Andrew’s death passed by peacefully; as I
wrote last time I was surrounded by love and only shed a few tears. However now my parents have gone home and it’s
once more just the three of us the emotions have kicked in with a vengeance.</div>
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</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">
What undid me yesterday was a cuddle with oldest son. It was about 9 a.m. and we were all still in
our pyjamas but he had Andrew’s old dressing gown over the top. I wore it myself for the first few weeks but
then bequeathed it to oldest son and I love to see him in it. Snuggling back into the soft towelling when I
was already feeling sorry for myself, well I won’t say it was a bad idea but
all the heartache came flooding back.
Especially as oldest son’s shoulder is about the same height as his dad’s
and my head rested perfectly.</div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">
I had to let him go. Then I went and curled up sobbing in a
heap on the bathroom floor.</div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">
I have been so busy recently and am absolutely
exhausted. This is already a busy time
of year. We have three birthdays to get
through before Christmas!</div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">
Andrew would have been 50 next Sunday. I’ve planned a party and am now so glad a lot
of friends can’t make it, does that sound awful? It means I don’t have to go to so much
trouble and it takes away a lot of self-imposed pressure to host a perfect
party.</div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">
When Andrew was 45 we had a “bring a 45 party”. Once again not many people came and actually
that’s just how he liked it. He was
never one to like a fuss whereas I always wanted a surprise and was always
disappointed and let down by the lack of Andrew’s imagination.</div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">
I’m really not getting stressed but I have so many other
plans for the week too and wonder where I will find the time to fit everything
in.</div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">
That is the real problem.
I have to effectively knit quicker, to use a craft analogy that fits my
title.</div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">
I am not a proficient knitter but very slow and steady, having
to repeat the mantra “in, round, through and off” with nearly every stitch! Consequently my knitting is generally neat,
but teach me a new stitch and it goes haywire. And I can get muddled if I try and go a bit
quicker or pay too much attention to the TV at the same time – how do people
knit without looking and natter and keep abreast with the goings on in
Coronation Street?</div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">
Sewing is a skill I am much better at. However sometimes I can be too cocky and
heavy footed with the sewing machine pedal and then what happens? I make mistakes and have to unpick the whole
blinking lot and it takes three times as long.</div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">
This is my unravelling at the moment. Going too quick and not taking my time. Filling my days with long “to do” lists and
unrealistic targets.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">
Is it better to keep busy?
It only keeps the pain at bay so long.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">
Yesterday I unravelled the furthest I have for a long time,
but then after the anniversary I think it was overdue and bound to happen.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">
I spent the day doing the things I wanted, a couple of loads
of washing out of necessity but otherwise I chilled out and although I made it
to church I never even got inside the front door, it was just too much effort.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">
Some days you just have to take one step or stich at a time
and recognise that each one is a huge achievement.</div>
Sarahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07953334708365738152noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3332521523255515244.post-47800135250975907832012-11-13T19:25:00.003+00:002012-11-13T19:25:42.207+00:00Have I told you lately...<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">
<span style="font-size: small;">I've been pondering what to repost today and finally decided on this, the words I had to say at Andrew's funeral.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">
<span style="font-size: small;">But I am getting more clever and adventurous with this blogging stuff and I am add a few extras...</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">
<span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">
<span style="font-size: small;">Starting with this - the theme song we entered the church to</span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; font-family: Verdana,sans-serif; text-align: center;">
<iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.youtube.com/embed/67xXbTaQlKI?feature=player_embedded' frameborder='0'></iframe></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">
You may have been very surprised today that we
came in to the theme tune to the cricket and thought, well I never knew
Andrew was a cricket fan – well he wasn’t! He always said it would be a
jolly piece of music for his funeral! As you leave we have a gift for
you, just something else we had already planned in jest. But sorry
Andrew two songs never made the play list –“ Fool if you think it’s
over” by Chris Rea and “When will I see you again?” by the Supremes.
Although the more I think about them the more they seem appropriate too,
but then we could be here ‘til midnight!</div>
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<br />
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">
Andrew sometimes got called Mr Grumpy, not least by me and the boys. </div>
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</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFfU96yB-u4f0l_xMjaHh3I69a6o9Bkf7QXVGU8HRUT8QKzjD9DuLu0lmfEoZOHBvgA-7OY0PQ04QrgttkCF8J9YrM9EXZ146vWzQDrmzJ8uLVOGcJqoCJ54l6R6cIBVEYhtTEIQadgL8/s1600/mr+grumpy.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFfU96yB-u4f0l_xMjaHh3I69a6o9Bkf7QXVGU8HRUT8QKzjD9DuLu0lmfEoZOHBvgA-7OY0PQ04QrgttkCF8J9YrM9EXZ146vWzQDrmzJ8uLVOGcJqoCJ54l6R6cIBVEYhtTEIQadgL8/s1600/mr+grumpy.jpg" /></a></div>
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There was quite a list of things he didn’t like…..</div>
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<br />
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">
Words like buy, purchase and spend.
Traffic jams and slow drivers in the fast lane. Airport security.
Caravans. He hated wearing a shirt and tie, although he wore one on our
first date to impress me. </div>
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<br />
</div>
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In church he could never understand why we had to sing the words to songs more than once “didn’t God hear the first time?”</div>
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<br />
</div>
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One of his biggest pet hates was dull services or meetings. He had his own expression</div>
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</div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif; text-indent: 36pt;">
“it was enough to bore the udders off a herd of cows” </div>
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(Only he didn’t actually use the word “udders”)</div>
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</div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">
He
would sit beside me in church whispering “boing, boing” apparently the
noise udders make when they bounce. I would dig him in the ribs but
silently giggle. </div>
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</div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">
He believed church should be alive and had aspirations
of filling this place with young people and holding a Christian rock
concert Putting on a big event to show the youngsters in this area how
exciting God could be. </div>
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<br />
</div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">
His faith was very private and personal
but no less real. He worshipped God by “doing” things. His domain was
the media desk by the door and woe betide any vicar who ran off with the
media key in his pocket! Or any inept person who fiddled with all the
switches - “why can’t people leave things alone?” “Aborigines and jet
engines” was another favourite saying.</div>
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<br />
</div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">
Just as much as being at the back of
church he loved being at the front, it was being in the middle he found
difficult to cope with, he couldn’t sit still and would always be
thinking how he would do things differently! We’d talk later about how
together we could do it “better”!</div>
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<br />
</div>
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The last time he stood here he did the
Bible reading. It was a Bible reading like no other as he read the
story in his own style. It was the story of Jesus casting out a legion
of demons into a herd of pigs. He finished by saying and it’s all true –
no porkies! The reading was accompanied by a power point using the
Brick Testament, Bible stories told with pictures of Lego people. </div>
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</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiDIAzka6OHLACY3yDYPiZna5yofY4An3tAsY6ILNKKkH1H7-x6OY_EuHJZmTAycf05Zqv5emkQs9W0lMeArWCXnAEwhTMslLDSyyQwfj4aTDFNKpYc9fDGuflg_ckBCrVAwRyJka2PT-g/s200/lego+Jesus.jpg" width="200" /><a href="http://www.thebricktestament.com/the_life_of_jesus/the_gadarene_demoniacs/mt08_28.jpg">Click here to read whole story!</a></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">
The
children, and it must be said adults too, sat rapt with attention. So
many people have commented to me in their cards and messages how
wonderful he was that morning.</div>
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Other things Andrew liked…</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhcs1_cS7wdIn7ilJGYP7f-nktcCt6kFqed1R6bmNjMGidwvLGDKIvMTfvb-mvG9_yTitIVDNAbskCt0TwQWax2CQzGcAfNjfn1ulP3FNgjPGMHVxAQUs29hcWr9NURM7geOC8eoX8_uak/s1600/purple+quality+street.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhcs1_cS7wdIn7ilJGYP7f-nktcCt6kFqed1R6bmNjMGidwvLGDKIvMTfvb-mvG9_yTitIVDNAbskCt0TwQWax2CQzGcAfNjfn1ulP3FNgjPGMHVxAQUs29hcWr9NURM7geOC8eoX8_uak/s1600/purple+quality+street.jpg" /></a></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">
The word adequate, purple quality
street, crispy cakes, mars bars and coca cola! He loved driving buses,
somehow the traffic never phased him behind the wheel of a bus. He
liked his train set – sorry that should bemodel railway. He loved his
big house and garden</div>
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<br />
</div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">
He loved disappearing upstairs into his
den where he pretended to be a DJ sat at the mixing desk. It was a
couple of days before I got upstairs and the turntable was still
spinning. We’d sit together finding tracks we liked and getting the
other one to guess who the artist was.</div>
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<br />
</div>
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Because of his love of broadcasting I
believe he was rare off shore because he actually like doing the tannoy
announcements. We would even work on ideas at home of how to make the
mundane ones sound more interesting. Like the tannoy that started “It
is a truth universally acknowledged….” And if anyone can remember how
that ended please let me know as I only remember the Jane Austen
beginning.</div>
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<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjAjuE0BwZhCF1RDda_m5HhxamNrPzyXe7iw-0y_eJMp2wF2RGvK9fyoPWfFiKOrwaiT6mP3ADonQXjhMrxGND2_lyXE9fH-VwMadEbFRj4lXIl-OE33JtgR73-8NBgPObInO9mduih_b0/s1600/milky+tea.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjAjuE0BwZhCF1RDda_m5HhxamNrPzyXe7iw-0y_eJMp2wF2RGvK9fyoPWfFiKOrwaiT6mP3ADonQXjhMrxGND2_lyXE9fH-VwMadEbFRj4lXIl-OE33JtgR73-8NBgPObInO9mduih_b0/s1600/milky+tea.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">How I wish I'd bought him this!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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Andrew liked magnolia paint but I think I
may have converted him to “dusted fondant”. That’s off the Dulux
colour chart. His tea was white, no sugar, weak and milky, a light
brown oak, off the Ronseal colour chart!</div>
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<br />
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After taking the children to school, a
car load for me and bus load for him, we liked doing the crossword
together and either we were getting very good at it or the crossword on
the back of the daily mail was getting easier!</div>
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<br />
</div>
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He loved belonging to the church family
here. He’d found somewhere where he fitted in, he could be useful and
everyone seemed to understand his unique sense of humour.</div>
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<br />
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He loved his family, although he didn’t always show it and especially loved our two boys. </div>
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<br />
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And I know he loved me, every day he
would ask, more than once, “have I told you I love you today?” He rang
every day without fail from the platform and I would get anxious if I
missed more than one phone call. The message on the answer phone went
“hello it’s just me looking for you.”</div>
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<br />
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It’s been difficult to sleep since he’s
gone and on my first sleepless night I decided what to wear today. When
I wore this Tshirt he would say “someone who loves you very much must
have bought you that Tshirt!”</div>
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<br />
</div>
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On my second sleepless night I decided what he should wear. Jeans and a Tshirt obviously! </div>
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<br />
</div>
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Just as Andrew bought me my Tshirt, so
the boys and I bought his for him. We got it at New Wine and it has a
bus on it! But it also has a slogan and Andrew’s everyday T shirts had
to be plain so he had never worn it. He said “I’ll wear it one day!”
Today seems as appropriate as any.</div>
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<br />
</div>
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It’s a micky take on the bus adverts around a few years ago that began “There probably isn’t a God….</div>
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But Andrew didn’t agree and his T shirt says </div>
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhdsHFV1QjxJSuuSDy-0ax8EE38jHrf4IJ3L89CWoT4lMmB3RTEUfgnrBk4Wj3FVvzrgWPZ5D6cJGRDb7sfFt3hFslcvKY-oLBab5D-g8mMB-Qklv0tqiuk7c3K21LZl3a6HI7mBalXHyc/s1600/There+is+a+God%2521.JPG" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhdsHFV1QjxJSuuSDy-0ax8EE38jHrf4IJ3L89CWoT4lMmB3RTEUfgnrBk4Wj3FVvzrgWPZ5D6cJGRDb7sfFt3hFslcvKY-oLBab5D-g8mMB-Qklv0tqiuk7c3K21LZl3a6HI7mBalXHyc/s200/There+is+a+God%2521.JPG" width="200" /></a></div>
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"> </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;">“ There positively is a God,</span></div>
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<br />
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"> now stop worrying</span></div>
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<br />
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"> and enjoy your life”</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"> </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"> </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"></span><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif; font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 115%;">So that's what I said and there probably isn't a lot else to add.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 115%;"> </span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 115%;">I have added a photo of Andrew and the bus picture to my facebook page today.We gave out cards with the bus on as people left along with a Quality Street chocolate, some deliberately took a purple one, while others chose something different.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 115%;"> </span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 115%;">I still see plently of the little cards around, with Andrew's name and dates on. Oldest son and I have just been discussing where we see them, one family keeps it on fridge, its on a pinboard in another house in the downstairs loo. Several made their way into purses and wallets. A keepsake, a reminder.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 115%;">Andrew is still everywhere, all around. I remember him in a song, a chocolate bar or a cup of very milky tea.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 115%;"> </span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 115%;">Some people look to the heavens to find their loved one, the stars in the night sky. Well last night I dreamed of stars, swirling and dancing around me like snowflakes caught in headlights.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 115%;"> </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif; font-size: small;">Each one was love and prayers and thoughts for us today, thank you for every speck of starlight you have sent our way. That light has been enough to help guide us on this journey, they mean so much.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif; font-size: small;"> </span></span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.youtube.com/embed/UFF1wJN75Z0?feature=player_embedded' frameborder='0'></iframe></div>
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<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif; font-size: small;"> </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif; font-size: small;">Van Morrison - Have I told you lately. I think this was the last ever song Andrew played on his iPod and I have included this because we played it at the private family cremation service and I couldn't leave without making you cry one final time! </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif; font-size: small;"> </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif; font-size: small;">Take away my sadness</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif; font-size: small;">Fill my life with gladness</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif; font-size: small;">Ease my troubles that's what you do.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif; font-size: small;"> </span></span></div>
Sarahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07953334708365738152noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3332521523255515244.post-8932589727979255432012-11-10T23:57:00.000+00:002012-11-10T23:57:57.507+00:00Still no words?<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif";">It's been a strange day in many ways. For the first time I took Andrew's mum to the place where we scattered Andrew's ashes.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif";">I can easily deal with my own grief now, it fits like a comfy pair of well worn in shoes but other people's grief is a different matter.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif";">It wasn't easy to watch my mother-in-law and my sons </span><span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif";">lost in their own private thoughts </span><span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif";">exploring and wandering the desolate place where Andrew rests or more likely forever swirls on the breeze. </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif";">I promised myself I wouldn't cry on demand because it might be expected of me, the widow, but I was glad that the low sun in the sky gave me a reason to hide my eyes behind my sunglasses as a few tears emerged on our drive home.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif";">The funny thing was I had been speaking to Andrew this morning, alone as I drove home from taking oldest son to tennis. I don't need a special place to go and know he is always with me swirling in my thoughts, somewhere, usually just beyond my reach. I've always found talking to him now strangely unnatural so it's not something I do very often.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif";">I've just surprised myself with the words I've written and shared. I am doing NaNoWriMo at the moment, writing a whole novel or 50,000 words in a month.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif";">Non writing friends are flabbergasted that such a task could be done whereas for me writing and playing with words is as natural as breathing. </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">But this time last year I wrote a post about a day when even I had no words and no answers. And it's worth sharing again at this time of the year...</span><br />
<br />
<div style="color: purple;">
<span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif";">When There Are No Words <span style="font-size: x-small;">(originally posted 10th November 2011) </span></span></div>
<div style="color: purple;">
<br /></div>
<div style="color: purple;">
<span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif";">We have
reached that “time of year”. </span></div>
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="color: purple;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="color: purple;">
<span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif";">I think
it shall always be called that now, in hushed reverential tones with a knowing
look. An unsettling time of remembering
exactly what we were doing this time in November 2010.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="color: purple;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="color: purple;">
<span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif";">Ushered in
by the first falling of leaves to the explosions of fireworks on the fifth and
building to a crescendo by Remembrance Sunday – how fitting.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="color: purple;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="color: purple;">
<span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif";">Last year’s
bonfire night was spent with friends in the garden. It was something we had done quite often over
the years with various groups of people that will never be the norm again. Andrew wandering around the house beforehand cursing
the fact he can’t find a torch that works then finally striding off in his big
work coat, box of fireworks in one hand and loose matches jangling in his
pocket where they had fallen free. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="color: purple;">
<span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif";"> </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="color: purple;">
<span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif";">It’s
strange what sticks in your head but I’ll always remember that rattle of
matches. It makes me smile to think of all
the fires he lit, the one that very nearly got out of hand and burnt the garden
fence. It was my turn to tease him for a
change!</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="color: purple;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="color: purple;">
<span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif";">This year
we spent November 5th with the same group of friends as last year. Although there are some welcome new
additions. Two more families have joined
our group and Andrew would have enjoyed the banter and repartee after the fireworks.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="color: purple;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="color: purple;">
<span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif";">It’s so
good to laugh and take pleasure from the happy times together.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="color: purple;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="color: purple;">
<span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif";">Now of
course we are heading for another weekend and the first anniversary of Andrew’s
death. Most of the time I am quite calm and
philosophical about it. In some ways isn’t
it just another day? I could never
understand all this fuss about NOT making big decisions in the first year. The sharp intake of breath when I announced I
had put the house on the market six months in.
As it is we are still here – crisis averted. But I have had a few wobbles of late.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="color: purple;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="color: purple;">
<span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif";">Last night
I was talking to youngest son as I tucked him into bed. We’d had a minor falling out earlier in the
evening. He wouldn’t do as he was told,
I crumpled and the enormity of the task of bringing up two boys on my own hit
hard made worse by lack of sleep and waking every morning at six since we
changed the clocks.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="color: purple;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="color: purple;">
<span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif";">By bedtime
we were on a more even footing and I was trying to reason with him.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="color: purple;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="color: purple;">
<span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif";">“Grandma
and Grandad are coming on Friday.”</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="color: purple;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="color: purple;">
<span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif";">“Why do we
have to have the bossy people staying?”</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="color: purple;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="color: purple;">
<span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif";">He has his
dad’s way of seeing the world, being blunt and forthright, some might say rude. Although he loves his grandparents deeply
they do tend to be stricter than me and won’t let him get away with so much,
especially now when they know how tired and frustrated I can get. I am sure it probably should be the other way
round. It takes a lot of energy to set
boundaries and keep discipline going on your own.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="color: purple;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="color: purple;">
<span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif";">“I need my Mum
and Dad here to help me.”</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="color: purple;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="color: purple;">
<span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif";">His next
comment cut to the core.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="color: purple;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="color: purple;">
<span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif";">“That’s not
fair. I don’t have a Dad anymore.”</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="color: purple;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="color: purple;">
<span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif";">What could
I say?</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="color: purple;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="color: purple;">
<span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif";">He cried
softly as he clung to me and I offered him my bed to sleep in beside me but he
refused and finally, reluctanly let me go.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="color: purple;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="color: purple;">
<span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif";">It is so
unfair that my Dad is here and his is gone.
I don’t know what I’ll do when one day I lose my own father. Our relationship has grown this year as I
have become more reliant on him and lapsed back into being his little girl. A father’s love and comfort is irreplaceable.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="color: purple;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="color: purple;">
<span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif";">Youngest
son is still such a little boy and it makes me cry to think of all the things he
will miss out on as he grows up.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="color: purple;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="color: purple;">
<span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif";">This "time
of year" is difficult for not just me but all of us. We have all lost so much and this is our time to remember.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="color: purple;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="color: purple;">
<span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif";">Sometimes
there are no words. If I can find none
to say to my own son then maybe you can’t find them either.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="color: purple;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="color: purple;">
<span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif";">I have to tell you that just
knowing someone is out there and they care is all I need; I hope and pray that
works for the boys too. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="color: purple;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="color: purple;">
<span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif";">A smile, a hug,
a knowing look could be enough to help us through this “time of year”.</span></div>
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Sarahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07953334708365738152noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3332521523255515244.post-62899907437274933062012-11-06T22:14:00.000+00:002012-11-06T22:14:09.615+00:00Another Year Already...?<div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">
Here's a poem I wrote and posted this time last year. I can't quite believe that another full year has gone by...</div>
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<br /></div>
<div style="color: #351c75; font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">
Almost Full Circle</div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="color: #351c75; font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">
Almost a
year since I saw your face</div>
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Almost a
year since I felt your embrace</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="color: #351c75; font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">
Almost full
circle</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="color: #351c75; font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">
The passing
of time</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="color: #351c75; font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">
The world
keeps on turning </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="color: #351c75; font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">
You’re no
longer mine</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="color: #351c75; font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="color: #351c75; font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">
Almost a
year since a kiss on my lips</div>
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Almost a
year since your hands on my hips</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="color: #351c75; font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">
Almost a
year</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="color: #351c75; font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">
I cannot
believe</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="color: #351c75; font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">
Twelve
months of the calendar</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="color: #351c75; font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">
Since you
did leave</div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="color: #351c75; font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">
Almost a
year since I’ve been alone</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxSOVSkrdtUx_boiS5RfLZmITdAdufw-jU-ayo6C1T6j7W3ogwfhEXnJDL8-vSj7ir3zkVTrcAKCMxb2TjfuLAji18RBxFGLJkHK65-giE3kmadGcv4tr4Am-t5MlSxKK0C3iETC7MzfE/s1600/back+view.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxSOVSkrdtUx_boiS5RfLZmITdAdufw-jU-ayo6C1T6j7W3ogwfhEXnJDL8-vSj7ir3zkVTrcAKCMxb2TjfuLAji18RBxFGLJkHK65-giE3kmadGcv4tr4Am-t5MlSxKK0C3iETC7MzfE/s320/back+view.jpg" width="213" /></a>Almost a
year, and in some ways I’ve grown</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="color: #351c75; font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">
Almost full
circle </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="color: #351c75; font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">
I try to
stand tall</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="color: #351c75; font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">
Your memory
lifts me</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="color: #351c75; font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">
If I should
fall</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="color: #351c75; font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="color: #351c75; font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">
You’re in
every heartbeat</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="color: #351c75; font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">
This love
that you started</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="color: #351c75; font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">
Still
grows, overflowing</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="color: #351c75; font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">
Although
you’ve departed</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="color: #351c75; font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">
You helped
make the person </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="color: #351c75; font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">
I am
standing here<br />
<br />
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="color: #351c75; font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">
Since you’ve
been gone</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="color: #351c75; font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">
It’s been
almost a year</div>
<br />
<br />Sarahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07953334708365738152noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3332521523255515244.post-81419323780063173962012-11-03T14:47:00.000+00:002012-11-03T14:47:10.164+00:00Dependent, Independent and everything in between....<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiE_qRlVbpoLhLXm7GnBD_ZGCbg8yCUxkATGNQOkqjS8iWDQt1DHbhW5ghsXVBeeJ97FXzysW_dxprEnifjkW-bwxv0SZVDBY3kR7pJV9Kzg7bbnxmkuZ1jQBwzFrGeXTjwCSimpcFGQMk/s1600/Holding-Hands.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiE_qRlVbpoLhLXm7GnBD_ZGCbg8yCUxkATGNQOkqjS8iWDQt1DHbhW5ghsXVBeeJ97FXzysW_dxprEnifjkW-bwxv0SZVDBY3kR7pJV9Kzg7bbnxmkuZ1jQBwzFrGeXTjwCSimpcFGQMk/s1600/Holding-Hands.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">we all need a hand to hold...</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">This morning I have been helping out a friend in need but I could only do so because another friend helped me out by looking after youngest son, or at least making sure he came to no harm and was occupied.</span><br />
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Our lives are intertwined and I am grateful to have friends with such listening ears available to me when I need them. On the flip side few things beat that feeling when you have put yourself out to help someone and you know you've made a real difference. </div>
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<br /></div>
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About a year ago I found a word search puzzle on my facebook feed, the words it contained sparked this little post below...and explain what I am trying to say here so much more eloquently!</div>
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<a href="http://unravelling-edges.blogspot.com/2011/10/dependent.html?spref=bl">unravelling edges: Dependent</a>: My friend posted this picture on her facebook page the other day. The first four words you spot in the word search are supposed ...</div>
Sarahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07953334708365738152noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3332521523255515244.post-84732789701557167362012-10-26T12:50:00.001+01:002012-10-26T12:50:43.985+01:00Fruitful<div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">
The weather has not been kind this year. Too much rain and the harvest of all kinds of crops is not as good as usual.</div>
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<br /></div>
<div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">
Last
year I found an unexpected abundance of fruit in my garden. An example
of God's provision and how he longs to lavish His good gifts on us.<br />
<br />
The discovery was made when I needed to know God was near, as I was approaching the first anniversary of Andrew's death.<br />
<br />
This year there has been little actual fruit to harvest but God continues to bless me in different amazing ways. Another crop of fruit wouldn't have surprised and excited me in the same way. </div>
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<br /></div>
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You can click back below to read last year's post...</div>
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<br /></div>
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<a href="http://unravelling-edges.blogspot.com/2011/10/unexpected-fruit.html?spref=bl">unravelling edges: Unexpected Fruit</a>:<span style="font-size: x-small;"> (posted Oct 20th 2011)</span>
Once upon a time in our garden we had a two bushes that grew up either
side of a set of steps leading down to the lower part of the gard...<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMEr2iJtPi8piIpLnN0Cs63TNsyWJ-M5aw7SlUFaFJMjqahlS-7A1ZKTUKsff2rhk1dIrI9GZCXZytL7KFXECMAVh6zA9Nqp1pShcad7NjwS0FFjplIOdVSG_Q6Sj_Rz0b37jOxkmCnaE/s1600/IMG_0564.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMEr2iJtPi8piIpLnN0Cs63TNsyWJ-M5aw7SlUFaFJMjqahlS-7A1ZKTUKsff2rhk1dIrI9GZCXZytL7KFXECMAVh6zA9Nqp1pShcad7NjwS0FFjplIOdVSG_Q6Sj_Rz0b37jOxkmCnaE/s320/IMG_0564.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Damson harvest 2011</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
</div>
Sarahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07953334708365738152noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3332521523255515244.post-37311884998952182542012-10-13T16:41:00.002+01:002012-10-13T16:41:19.322+01:00Unravelling Technology <div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">
I was all set for reposting a blog from October last year when I remembered this one posted in June 2011.</div>
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Oldest son has just bought himself a new iPod Touch - very swish with its scrolling touch screen and all those appealing app you can download...</div>
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<br /></div>
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...hmmmm the problem is he needs WiFi and internet access and that's where I crumple.</div>
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<br /></div>
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Andrew kept a red folder with all the numbers needed to set up our WiFi system, trouble is they make little sense to the most technical of readers and I'm afraid it is all gobble-de-gook to me.</div>
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<br /></div>
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When I bought myself a Kindle earlier in the year I almost gave up with the complications of setting the thing up - give me an old fashioned book anyday!</div>
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<br /></div>
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It was only because Andrew's brother was visiting that I got it sorted and didn't just give it away.</div>
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<br /></div>
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Any computer glitches and I am swearing at Andrew and his <b>unique </b>way of doing things.</div>
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<br /></div>
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"There's no need to shout." Oldest son says softly. (This is oldest son who is currently downstairs <b>shouting</b> at the FIFA referee on the PS3!)</div>
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<br /></div>
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Here are my thoughts from last June....</div>
<br />
<h3 class="post-title entry-title" itemprop="name">
<span style="color: #990000;">And the answer is? I don’t even understand the question!
</span></h3>
<div class="post-header" style="color: #990000;">
</div>
<br style="color: #990000;" />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="color: #990000; font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">
I know it’s been a long time since I’ve written.<span> </span>I’ve been developing other ideas, enjoying starting something new. <span> </span>I do have some wonderful things to share with you….soon.</div>
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<br />
</div>
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The trouble is I’m not good at finishing things.<span> </span>I always long for a change and some excitement.</div>
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<br />
</div>
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But someone told me the other day to keep writing as I unravel.<span> </span></div>
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<br />
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="color: #990000; font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">
Well I’ve unravelled so much that it feels like even my words don’t make sense anymore.<span> </span>If
I was clever enough I would end this post now with the words coming
undone, unwinding and languidly dropping to the bottom of the page like
squiggly spaghetti! </div>
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<br />
</div>
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I’ve just got off the phone from our internet, TV and phone provider.<span> </span>It was some survey or other as I am "technically" a new customer.</div>
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<br />
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="color: #990000; font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">
I love the internet, email and my blog but I hate all the technology behind it because it is incomprehensible.</div>
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<br />
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="color: #990000; font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">
Now
THEY… (I won’t name and shame for I fear all such providers of services
are just as bad as each other and I do make it a policy NOT to name
people on here so I will afford THEM the same courtesy.<span> </span>A wise move if this ever gets published I could do without being taken to court – haha!<span> </span>Although as this is ALL true….)</div>
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<br />
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="color: #990000; font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">
…THEY rang ME but still wanted me to answer all THEIR security questions before THEY would discuss my complaint.</div>
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<div class="MsoNormal" style="color: #990000; font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">
Do
THEY seriously think someone else is sitting in my home just waiting
for THEM to ring? Intent on slagging off THEIR company and giving me a
reputation of being a moaning minny!</div>
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Now I know I am blonde but I do like to think I have some intelligence.<span> </span>However I couldn’t answer any of THEIR questions and I had valid reasons for every one.<span> </span></div>
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<span> </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="color: #990000; font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">
I have no idea what speed of broadband we have – that was Andrew’s department!<span> </span>It works and is fast enough for me, so why do I need to know the speed?</div>
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<br />
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="color: #990000; font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">
I
don’t know when, “with our package”, we get free calls – Andrew set up a
second internet line we use for outgoing calls and I have no idea how
that works either, all I know is I successfully set up paypal to keep
paying them (lower case) and they have never rang me for a customer
satisfaction survey.</div>
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<br />
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="color: #990000; font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">
I don’t even know which method of payment I use!<span> </span>It was direct debit but when THEY changed the last digit of the account and put it in my name THEY cancelled the mandate.</div>
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<br />
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="color: #990000; font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">
When I was in America last month my friend suggested I check my email.</div>
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<br />
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="color: #990000; font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">
“But I can’t.<span> </span>Andrew set it up so my emails just come to my computer.”</div>
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<br />
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="color: #990000; font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">
“No you can check email anywhere.<span> </span>You just have to log in.”</div>
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<br />
</div>
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Armed with this superior knowledge I set about getting into my account.</div>
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<br />
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="color: #990000; font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">
I needed a password.<span> </span>Now I know this - I gave THEM a password when I changed the account into my name.<span> </span>This was going to be a doddle!</div>
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<br />
</div>
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WRONG!</div>
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<br />
</div>
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Not only was my password NOT accepted but on the screen came a message to check with ANDREW for access!</div>
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<br />
</div>
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Not wanting to be beaten I tried his account with all the usual passwords he used to be confronted with MORE security questions!</div>
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<br />
</div>
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I gave up.</div>
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<br />
</div>
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This is where I am at the moment.<span> </span>Some things are sorted, lots of things are sorted really.</div>
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<br />
</div>
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But
it is these last details that I am struggling with and if I am honest I
am getting bored with them (lower case) and THEM (upper case)!</div>
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<br />
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="color: #990000; font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">
I
want to start something NEW not tie up the loose ends I don’t understand
and because of the way Andrew did things I don’t think anyone else can
help either.</div>
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<br />
</div>
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I am stuck in a rut which makes those blasted hurdles ever higher to climb over!</div>
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<br />
</div>
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Andrew would have fixed this.<span> </span>He would know.<span> </span>He understood the “dark arts” of computing and could speak in techno babble.<span> </span></div>
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<span> </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="color: #990000; font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">
But he couldn’t work the washing machine, or cook a meal, or iron a shirt.<span> </span>Sometimes I wonder how he would have survived if things had been the other way around.</div>
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It’s not a productive thought really.<span> </span>Even the suggestion that I am coping better than he would doesn’t ease the pain.<span> </span>OK I get some sense of pride but it is fleeting.</div>
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We were a team.<span> </span>We did things together, balancing each other’s strengths and weaknesses.</div>
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“I can’t use the washing machine but I can mend it!” said Andrew with a grin.<span> </span>I have a bolt holding the washing machine door on to prove it!</div>
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We were very traditional in our marriage.<span> </span>I stayed at home and did “girl” stuff while Andrew went out to work and did the “boy” stuff.</div>
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But then other "stuff" is so unconventional, like an extra phone line and a door bell that is linked to the phone.<span> </span>A
lawnmower that has a piece of wood to hold the grass box in place and
so many pieces of paper with passwords and numbers on for our
complicated computer set up.<span> </span>A house that is far from ordinary with all its associated issues!</div>
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There
is so much still to unravel and before I can work on the answers there
are some questions that still need some serious untangling!</div>
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On the plus side today I did manage to delete history from youngest son's laptop, resize the screen settings and get a game working that he couldn't - so maybe I'm not such a dumb blonde afterall!<br />
</div>
Sarahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07953334708365738152noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3332521523255515244.post-45321372064553714492012-10-08T20:59:00.004+01:002012-10-08T20:59:35.765+01:00Still Ticking - Still Moving<div class="post-title entry-title" itemprop="name">
<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">Here's how I was feeling a year ago, reading this I wonder just how far forward I have moved in a year?</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">Physically we're in the same location but spiritually and emotionally I've kept going forward. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">Grief is never linear and you can't plot a graph showing progress. I've probably said that before, I learnt it a little while ago.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">Am I still grieving? Does it ever really end? These are things I don't tend to think about very often. It's only when I look back over my blog that I assess my state of mind.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">Tomorrow hopefully I have my last counselling appointment, I won't say "ever" but at least for now. It's been a month since my last one. For me I finally found the right person to talk to and it has helped tremendously. You just have to read my re-ravelling post <a href="http://re-ravelling.blogspot.co.uk/2012/09/learning-to-laugh-again.html">Learning to Laugh Again</a>. I am now ready for my next solo steps, more confident, far less self critical.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">So is looking back at last year's posts helpful? It would be easy to get down in the dumps seeing as I haven't moved house and some of last years expectations haven't come to fruition.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">There is still a balance between past and future, some things tick and while other things move but overall things are GOOD!</span><br />
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<br /></div>
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<b><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">Ticking Over and Moving Forward </span></b><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">(originally posted Oct 6th 2011)</span></div>
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There are some days when I feel like I am treading water, just
getting by and doing the essentials. <br />
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Thankfully my ironing pile is currently non-existent but I
must admit the washing basket is beginning to multiply again. All that glorious weather last week meant I
got literally loads and loads dried on the line, a quick shake and very little
ironing to be done. I always feel I am
on top of things when the pile disappears and there is the satisfying squeak of
the ironing board being finally folded away.<br />
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Homework is another matter.
Now I have both boys at secondary school and oldest son has started his
GCSEs this has increased exponentially. There
never appears to be an end in sight even when they say they haven’t got any, I’ve
learned that’s boy speak for “I’ve got nothing that needs to be handed in
tomorrow.” The next night they have four
pieces to finish and they bemoan the unfairness of it all. I have to cajole and bribe and nag and shout
but at least I don’t have to DO all of it, it just sometimes seems like it.<br />
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“I need this printed off.” Is the cry at ten past eight in the morning when
we have to leave the house in five minutes.<br />
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There is then the on-going job of keeping on top of the
housework, thank goodness I have a cleaner to help out with that one in my far-too-grand-for-three
sized house.<br />
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And then comes that most dreaded of questions “what are we
having for tea tonight?” You can
guarantee the day I am organised remembering to get something out of the
freezer is the day they have already eaten that very same meal at school for
lunch.<br />
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But all these things are just LIFE ticking over. The boring and mundane jobs that just need to
be done.<br />
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As I’ve said I do have a cleaner and I am keeping on top of
things - well OK most things. I still
have lots of paperwork to get filed away but that was something I often did
together with Andrew. Even then we would
leave it for too long between sort outs.
There was even a bit of a standing joke that we only tidied the large
dining table once a year at Christmas ready to serve our festive meal.<br />
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Then there are times when I need a break from the dull
routine and want to embark on something new.<br />
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Ever since the house went on the market it has been my plan
to have the sort of mammoth clear out you only ever have when you are moving
house. Now I have found somewhere I
would like to live I have moved up a gear.
The bins are full every week – gone is the girl who used to pride
herself with only half filling the wheelie bin, there is so much clutter that
needs chucking.<br />
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Of course, good girl that I am, I’m still doing a great deal
of recycling and have sorted out a pile of old toys, games and bric a brac for
a table top sale at the weekend. Might
as well try and get a bit for it to pay for my gardener – my other latest
venture – we are trying to give my house that kerb appeal to make any potential
buyer fall in love with the place and make an offer.<br />
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Sorting out and tidying up in this fashion is my way of
saying that we are ready to move on. I
long for my fresh new start.<br />
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It still often feels unreal that Andrew is gone for good but
the truth is he is never going to walk through the front door again, or be
hiding behind a long curtain somewhere (childish but fun and oh so
predictable!).<br />
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The alternative to moving forward is to just keep everything
the same, ticking over but pretending none of this had ever happened. Acting as if he is just away on an extended
trip is not going to help in the long run.<br />
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Am I heartless or callous for wanting to start anew? I think I decided a while ago that it doesn’t
matter what other people say and think about how I process my grief. It is mine to deal with. Also I have discovered from writing this blog
just how deep our love was despite the usual ups and downs of marriage. We always said our love had grown over the
years, changing with the seasons but now I have had the chance to reflect on it
from a different perspective and mourn it’s passing.<br />
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Moving on is not dishonouring Andrew’s memory or how
much he still means to me.<br />
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With being on anti-depressants it has been a few weeks since
I had a good cry and that concerned me.
Had the tablets taken my feelings of loss away? I have certainly been bouncier since taking
them which I must confess has felt great.
This week the tears have re-surfaced in a good way at appropriate times
and places as I get my life back in some kind of emotional balance.<br />
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The good with the bad, the old and the new,
past memories alongside hopefulness for the future.<br />
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Both ticking over and moving forward in harmony.</div>
Sarahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07953334708365738152noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3332521523255515244.post-3250333610949616852012-09-25T22:28:00.000+01:002012-09-25T22:28:07.473+01:00We're Going on a Bear Hunt - a new way to look at grief!<div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">
There are many models of the grieving process thought up by lots of learned people with letters after their name.</div>
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<br /></div>
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Well I have a B.A.(Hons) in Library and Information Studies and some experience in this matter now so here are my own theories first posted last year based on a favourite book!</div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="post-title entry-title" itemprop="name" style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">
from<b> <a href="http://unravelling-edges.blogspot.co.uk/2011/09/textbook-grief-and-other-helpful-models.html">Textbook Grief and Other Helpful Models?</a></b><span style="font-size: x-small;"> (originally posted 23rd Sept 2011)</span></div>
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<br /></div>
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I have
come up with my own model based on the popular children’s book “We’re Going on
a Bear Hunt” by Michael Rosen, beautifully illustrated by Helen Oxenbury. </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxYHrLsZnf-4AvWbhxG33IbTHyqlFCIP0oHioe71l3P4Xf2fqkEC8L20aPC4GhwcTKRlfEtEpuOI6_WyI9vyo9ypsOjiK3L6rBexni4AXMRnUghSs8eex0Ae1P6lUfM1qeEpJWvnQwdY0/s1600/bear-hunt-cover.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="291" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxYHrLsZnf-4AvWbhxG33IbTHyqlFCIP0oHioe71l3P4Xf2fqkEC8L20aPC4GhwcTKRlfEtEpuOI6_WyI9vyo9ypsOjiK3L6rBexni4AXMRnUghSs8eex0Ae1P6lUfM1qeEpJWvnQwdY0/s320/bear-hunt-cover.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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I apologise at the start to anyone who hasn’t read this
classic, maybe you would like to pop to the library now and get a copy because there
will be SPOILERS to the plot…</div>
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<br /></div>
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This book was a favourite of the boys when they were small
and more importantly one Andrew loved to read to them and often quoted when we
were out for a walk.</div>
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<br /></div>
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The basic plot is that a family are out on a bear hunt and
on the way they encounter a series of obstacles.</div>
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We’re going on a bear
hunt.</div>
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We’re going to catch
a big one.</div>
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What a beautiful day!</div>
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We’re not scared.</div>
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Uh-uh! <span style="color: #990000;">*INSERT OBSTACLE
HERE*</span></div>
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We can’t go over it.</div>
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We can’t go under it.</div>
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Oh no!</div>
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We’ve got to go
through it!</div>
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<br /></div>
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That’s grieving in a nutshell. You can’t go over it! You can’t go under it! You can’t even go round it!</div>
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YOU HAVE TO GO
THROUGH IT!</div>
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It’s something I am constantly learning. There is no quick fix. Tick all five stages, you’ve passed the test
and can move on as good as new. You can
read all the theory and understand all the models but you have to experience
the day to day living without your loved one.
All the inevitable ups and downs of dual process or swirling whirlpool
however you wish to label it.</div>
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<br /></div>
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Let me tell you the hurdles that have to be faced in the
bear hunt story because they conjure up some great images that also help describe
the bereavement process.</div>
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<br /></div>
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Long wavy grass that goes swishy swashy as they sweep through. It marks like thin paper cuts, niggling and
painful to touch leaving tender scars that may fade but are a constant reminder
of the journey.</div>
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<br /></div>
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There’s the splosh splash of the deep cold river. It’s difficult to walk through normally. All of a sudden your life has a surreal quality
about it and when you have negotiated the river you are left feeling uncomfortable
and weighed down by too much excess baggage.</div>
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<br /></div>
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You dry out from the water and find thick oozy mud as the
next challenge. It clings and squelches
and my favourite word of the book squerches .
Like the water it is hard to get through and slows you down. You can’t run or hurry in squerchy thick mud. Each step is an ordeal.</div>
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Then there’s the big dark forest that causes you to stumble
and trip. It’s the unseen branches that
snag your clothes and pull you back.
Great tree roots that hamper your progress and make you fall down. With every tumble you have to get back up
however hard it may be or you become lost.</div>
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<br /></div>
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A snow storm closes in, sounds to me like last winter all
over again. It batters you from all
sides, howling tormenting wind.
Memories, regrets, swirling “what ifs”.</div>
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<br /></div>
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Finally there’s the cave and inside you find the bear but
once you confront your fears you don’t really want to be there so you rush back
home and hide under the duvet.</div>
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<br /></div>
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These are the many stages or obstacles you have to face in
grief but feel free to mix and match and because this is a children’s story not
a textbook this model is not to be taken too seriously!</div>
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<br /></div>
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Right at the end of the book on the final page is the bear
plodding slowly back to his cave along a moonlit beach. He had chased the children back home and when
they wouldn’t let him in he wanders home alone.</div>
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That’s when I always felt most sad. I remember reading the story to my youngest
son and when we got to that page I said, “Aww, poor bear he only wanted to
play.”</div>
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Eventually my young son would be repeating my words and we
both had sympathy for this much maligned character. I wonder how the author and the artist saw
him?</div>
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<br /></div>
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And maybe that’s what’s grief’s about too, wandering on your
own, feeling lost and alone, thinking no one understands. </div>
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In the end you just have to "go through it" and hope when you
get to the other side you are in a better place to cheer on the next person and
encourage them to carry on.<br />
<br />
(or as someone commented last time I posted this, we don't ever get "through it" to the other side but we learn to live with the bear. On reflection - that's a great way to look at it!)</div>
Sarahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07953334708365738152noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3332521523255515244.post-62877495921426559212012-09-18T16:55:00.002+01:002012-09-18T16:55:34.584+01:00Recycled - Reposted!<div class="post-title entry-title" itemprop="name">
<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">Here's a post from a year ago showing off some of my other crafty talents ...</span></div>
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<b> </b></h3>
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<b>Recycled</b><span style="font-size: x-small;"> (posted 18th Sept 2011)</span></h3>
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</div>
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I can remember being at Brownies and working towards my “thrift
badge”.<span> </span>Basically it involved making
something new from something old.<span> </span>I made
a pot holder out of an old towel.<span> </span>A
square piece of yellow towel, double thickness with blanket stitch round the
edge and the words POT HOLDER embroidered in the middle just in case you had any
doubts as to its identity.</div>
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And a “pot holder” is?<span>
</span>Well it lived in the camping box and was used for lifting the kettle off
the camping stove to stop you burning your hand in the process of making a pot
of tea.<span> </span>But that would have been far too
much to stitch on a small scrap of fabric.</div>
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I got my thrift badge which had a bee on it.<span> </span>Are bees renowned for their thriftiness?</div>
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The strange things us young girls got up to in the
seventies! <span> </span>I’m sure there is no longer
such a thing as a thrift badge.<span> It's not a word we use much any more. </span>The name
of course could have been changed to a "recycling challenge badge" but not having girls
I have no idea.</div>
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The idea of "recycling" or "thrift" or "make do and mend"
mentality is not new at all.<span> </span>It’s come full circle and is all
back in fashion. </div>
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There is a lady at our church who has for a long time made
handbags from recycled materials, old coats, curtains, skirts.<span> </span>She has plundered the charity shop for
buttons and beads, oddments of wool and made some amazing creations – several of
which reside in my wardrobe to be matched and co-ordinated with the appropriately coloured outfits.</div>
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As a fundraising idea in the holiday she held a day in the
church hall to teach us how to make a bag with a view to sharing her skills and getting
more bags made up ready to sell near Christmas in aid of our church hall
development project.</div>
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We’ve been inspired and several of us have taken up the
challenge to make more bags.<span> </span>I have a
few in various stages of manufacture and now I have the hang of them I’m sure I
can knock up several more before November.</div>
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I have my own limited supply of fabric and buttons but no
end of ideas….</div>
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One of my many notions involved making a bag out of one of
Andrew’s sweatshirts.<span> </span></div>
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<span> </span></div>
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</div>
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Most of his clothes went a long time ago, I didn’t see the
point of holding on to them. <span> </span>I’m
glad I did it then because whatever is still left I can’t bear to let go of now.<span> </span>I was sniffing an old decorating T shirt I
found only yesterday.<span> </span>I think it mostly
smells of the wooden wardrobe it was left in but it’s still comforting and
reassuring…</div>
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The particular sweatshirt, I wanted to make the bag from, was
one of his favourites and he probably had it the first Christmas we were
married.<span> </span>I know it was a present
from my mum and dad.<span> </span>It came from C&A
so that dates it!<span> </span></div>
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<span> </span> </div>
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He wore it on the
first day of the new millennium, I have a picture of him in it; he’s holding
son number one on the balcony of our old house looking out at the sunrise.<span> </span>About three years earlier he had been wearing
the same sweatshirt when our eldest son was born.<span> </span>Again there’s photographic evidence.</div>
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It had a soft feel to it, a slight fluffy texture which over
the years of wearing and washing had worn flat but it was always very cosy to snuggle up to.</div>
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Many times over the years I had tried to put it in the draw
of work clothes for him to take away off shore but he’d persist in wearing it
out and for special occasions.<span> </span>For a man
who loved anything plain to wear he did have a thing for patterned sweatshirts.</div>
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I took it out of the wardrobe and folded it into a bag shape
with the arms as the handle.<span> </span>I figured
it would work quite well so with trepidation I laid it out on my cutting board
and cut the precious garment.</div>
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“You’ve murdered dad’s sweatshirt!”<span> </span>Was youngest son’s cry of horror.</div>
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Too late now.<span> </span>There
was no going back.<span> </span> </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYvkj22IX3A-7bwyP1GhOMKmLqICNOWTHh9fhk0AuIJa3xbBx_VEDXM2tUZMLpEg1pE9RppZqkQyez-1RCF5mjTD55l0SZcK7ciZcegKoNnUdvGXvpnvV7RZrNJC7DC8I3a3UohB4hbMI/s1600/IMG_0501.JPG" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYvkj22IX3A-7bwyP1GhOMKmLqICNOWTHh9fhk0AuIJa3xbBx_VEDXM2tUZMLpEg1pE9RppZqkQyez-1RCF5mjTD55l0SZcK7ciZcegKoNnUdvGXvpnvV7RZrNJC7DC8I3a3UohB4hbMI/s320/IMG_0501.JPG" width="240" /></a> </div>
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It was a real labour
of love as it wasn’t an easy fabric to work with.<span> </span>I’m not used to sewing knitted fabrics which
stretch as you go along.<span> </span>However
yesterday I finished it and today I used it for church.</div>
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I didn’t get many compliments; it’s not the kind of special bag
that would warrant much attention and adulation.<span> </span>It’s a bag to carry while wearing jeans,
something very casual which is very fitting.<span> </span></div>
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<span>
</span></div>
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Something of Andrew I can keep by my side every day.</div>
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I don't use the bag every day but it still gets an outing fairly often. It's carried lots of "stuff" over the year and there is some stitching that is coming undone showing it has been used and useful.</div>
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It makes me smile to revisit this post the bag is a reminder of all the positive things I have achieved.</div>
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Sarahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07953334708365738152noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3332521523255515244.post-64465158239211804372012-09-08T21:27:00.000+01:002012-09-08T21:27:29.736+01:00If heaven had a phone ...Last week I went to see my GP, just for a check up as I collected another prescription for my anti-depressants. I've come to terms with my little pills now although my doctor knows I am keen to stop taking them as soon as possible. We'll review that in 2 months!<br />
<br />
While walking home I passed some new houses. There is quite an estate now where there were once allotments. I saw curtains and blinds up at the windows, cars in the driveways, signs of life.<br />
<br />
When Andrew died, not yet 2 years ago, these houses weren't even built!<br />
<br />
It reminded me of a poem I wrote back in March last year, my one sided conversation with Andrew telling him our news. I mentioned the new houses under construction.<br />
<br />
Some people talk to their deceased relatives, and I don't mean through a medium or anything like that, just everyday ordinary conversations but I don't tend to do that. I only ever SHOUT at Andrew when something has gone wrong that he could have fixed!<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj83NMWpAf9n9RzhH4VNMN3gCucegIeKk54_fBMVnPFSGc4fe0EY7WUd8kY71CtdgL8_IzmARqCHVHcwgjBAcaRNxsHZxIzMP18LZAY7vcNl1edgd9saPo-c5j91aAi9UCXzvjkdhIdHUs/s1600/heaven's+phone.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj83NMWpAf9n9RzhH4VNMN3gCucegIeKk54_fBMVnPFSGc4fe0EY7WUd8kY71CtdgL8_IzmARqCHVHcwgjBAcaRNxsHZxIzMP18LZAY7vcNl1edgd9saPo-c5j91aAi9UCXzvjkdhIdHUs/s320/heaven's+phone.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
But maybe I should write an up-dated poem of the things I would tell him now if he could telephone me from heaven like he used to ring me from the oil rig...<br />
<br />
(<i>words in italics are what Andrew would say to me in every phone conversation)</i><br />
<br />
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<u><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></u></div>
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<u><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></u></div>
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<u><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></u></div>
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<u><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></u></div>
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<u><span style="font-size: medium;">Anything else?</span></u></div>
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Thought I’d write</div>
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<span> </span>Just to let you know</div>
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I’m doing fine</div>
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Well, as well as can be expected</div>
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<span> </span>I suppose</div>
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<br />
</div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="color: #274e13; font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">
<span> </span><i>Anything else?</i></div>
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<br />
</div>
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The days are getting brighter</div>
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The sun has been quite warm</div>
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Everything is growing</div>
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<span> </span>But I miss the sound of you on your “tractor” mowing the lawn</div>
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<br />
</div>
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<span> </span><i>Anything else?</i></div>
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<br />
</div>
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The shower’s still dripping</div>
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Sometimes it sounds like rain</div>
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But I got one problem fixed</div>
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Did you know we had blocked drains?</div>
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<br />
</div>
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<span> </span><i>Anything else?</i></div>
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<br />
</div>
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I know you’d rather hear the “gossip”</div>
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But there’s not a lot to say</div>
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<br />
</div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="color: #274e13; font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">
<span> </span><i>Anything else?</i></div>
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<br />
</div>
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I can tell you of my walk</div>
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And what I spied along the way</div>
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<br />
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Those new houses by the school</div>
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What was the last you saw?</div>
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Roof trusses sit like skeletons now</div>
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In a line of four</div>
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And you know the “home” beside them?</div>
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Was your Dad there for a while?</div>
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It’s all knocked down!</div>
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The stunning view would really make you smile</div>
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<br />
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<span> </span><i>Any post?</i></div>
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<br />
</div>
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On some days there’s a big pile</div>
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And on others there is none</div>
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Lots of paperwork to sort out </div>
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And more filing to be done</div>
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<br />
</div>
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<span> </span><i>How are the boys?</i></div>
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<br />
</div>
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The boys?<span> </span>On the computer</div>
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Still shouting very loud</div>
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Good reports from school though</div>
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Made me feel quite proud</div>
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<br />
</div>
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<span> </span><i>How are you?</i></div>
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<br />
</div>
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Me?<span> </span>I told you.</div>
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Yes I’m fine </div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="color: #274e13; font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; margin-left: 36pt; text-indent: 36pt;">
and you think fine’s - OK</div>
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Not much else to report</div>
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I’ll write again another day</div>
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<br />
</div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="color: #274e13; font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; text-indent: 36pt;">
<span> </span><i>Anything else?</i></div>
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<br />
</div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="color: #274e13; font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">
No just this little snapshot </div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="color: #274e13; font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">
Of what’s been going on</div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="color: #274e13; font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">
And how our lives continue</div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="color: #274e13; font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; text-indent: 36pt;">
Even though you’ve gone…</div>
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />Sarahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07953334708365738152noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3332521523255515244.post-58599427691796171112012-08-29T14:21:00.000+01:002012-08-29T14:21:53.557+01:00A change in the weather?<div class="post-title entry-title" itemprop="name">
<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">Here's a post from the end of the summer holidays last year. After 6 weeks of doing very little I felt swamped by all the tasks I'd left undone.</span></div>
<div class="post-title entry-title" itemprop="name">
<br /></div>
<div class="post-title entry-title" itemprop="name">
<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">Fast forward to this year and I feel that the days before me are a challenge, yes I've got lots to sort out, new ideas to try, decorating to do. This year I am stronger but also I feel less guilt, I don't apply so much self-imposed pressure.</span></div>
<div class="post-title entry-title" itemprop="name">
<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="post-title entry-title" itemprop="name">
<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">I'm learning to wait and see what's around the corner insteading of rushing to fix my life and make things happen NOW!</span></div>
<div class="post-title entry-title" itemprop="name">
<br /></div>
<div class="post-title entry-title" itemprop="name">
<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">(I've written a little poem today about that end of the hols feeling but I'm going to pop that on <a href="http://re-ravelling.blogspot.co.uk/">re-ravelling</a>...)</span></div>
<div class="post-title entry-title" itemprop="name">
<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPd7YqQOhQ-abUfTYPgnS58s3_eiwSXhEsZmsEbWNYmND6jL_xi5efMqj4CXA_sMygByU_zdIZ7kaFzyLrLYXWwy38WmlEt4gjct_FFY0F9TgS6R34evjTcdvNacMgGMGx3K87dCRzZCU/s1600/umbrella-clipart.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPd7YqQOhQ-abUfTYPgnS58s3_eiwSXhEsZmsEbWNYmND6jL_xi5efMqj4CXA_sMygByU_zdIZ7kaFzyLrLYXWwy38WmlEt4gjct_FFY0F9TgS6R34evjTcdvNacMgGMGx3K87dCRzZCU/s200/umbrella-clipart.jpg" width="200" /></a></div>
<div class="post-title entry-title" itemprop="name">
<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">However with all the changes some things forever stay the same ... the rainy summer weather!</span></div>
<h3 class="post-title entry-title" itemprop="name">
<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"> </span></h3>
<h3 class="post-title entry-title" itemprop="name">
<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">Rainy Days <span style="font-size: x-small; font-weight: normal;">(written 27th Aug 2011)</span></span></h3>
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</div>
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Yesterday was miserable, it rained all day and today looks like it’s going to be the same. Summer appears to be over.</div>
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<br /></div>
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In
a couple of weeks the boys will be back at school and maybe I can start
to clear some of the clutter accumulated over the six week holiday.
The piles of “stuff” where I have emptied a bag or suitcase from our
travels but haven’t actually put things away properly!</div>
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<br /></div>
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Then
there’s the paperwork that has been mounting up needing serious
attention and filing. My brain has shut down and it’s time to start
getting back into gear.</div>
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<br /></div>
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I’ve
just had a few days by myself but they have not been as productive as I
would have liked. There seems to be so much to “do” - AGAIN – there’s a
recurring theme here I know. Don’t tell me to rest, I’ve kind of done
that for six weeks; there are things than NEED to be done to restore
some order in this chaos!</div>
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<br /></div>
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I’ve
yet to discover what all the buttons “do” on the car. Where’s Andrew
when I need him to read the manual and teach me what’s what? My
workload has doubled! </div>
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<br /></div>
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Perhaps
it’s the new car that’s slightly unsettled me, it’s a big change and I
still have some niggling doubts with no calm voice to allay my fears.
Actually we’d have been as bad as each other, each taking turns to offer
reassurance. It doesn’t matter how many people tell me my new car
looks great, I can’t hear from the one person I need to.</div>
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<br /></div>
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It
also hasn’t escaped my notice that the nights are already drawing in.
It is now dark BEFORE the lamppost comes on outside, another task -
reset the timer.</div>
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<br /></div>
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I’ve
never been aware before of how dark the evenings get in late August and
it scares me that the year is suddenly passing quicker.</div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">
A
few months ago time moved so slowly. I remember when I wished the
months would pass so I could get over things. Now I know I never will.
My heart still aches, I still find myself crying and the passing of
time hasn’t made everything easier.</div>
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<br /></div>
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Back
in June I bought a new CD by “The Pierces”, I was going to use some of
their lyrics in a post, “Seven months to the day since I saw your
face.” It was so apt and the timing was perfect.</div>
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<br /></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="color: #351c75; font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; text-align: center;">
Baby where’d you go?</div>
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Did you sail away over some distant ocean?</div>
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Darlin’ what we had </div>
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It cannot be taken, it cannot be stolen</div>
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And it won’t be forgotten</div>
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No it won’t be forgotten</div>
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<br /></div>
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Now suddenly we are nine months along the journey and I’ve just noticed the second verse after the chorus.</div>
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<br /></div>
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Summer disappears like a dream I had</div>
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And winter comes with a knife</div>
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That cuts you down</div>
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And it never ends, it never ends.</div>
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<br /></div>
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I don’t mean to be morbid. Maybe I should find some happy music to listen to?</div>
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<br /></div>
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As winter draws ever nearer so does the first anniversary of Andrew death. </div>
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<br /></div>
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Twelve weeks today.</div>
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<br /></div>
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Some
people say the second year is harder when all the birthdays and special
dates come round again. They are already stacking up, Andrew’s
birthday in 14 weeks; Christmas only 4 weeks after that and in between
two special sons will celebrate another birthday without their dad.</div>
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<br /></div>
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I
remember summers when they were little. Once we got to September and
being back at school I would start planning for Christmas. Would Andrew
be home or away and where would we spend Christmas and New Year? I
liked to be organised so other family could fall in with our definitive
plans. Mum would start asking what the boys wanted for presents. I’d
start drawing up lists and getting organised for my busy December.</div>
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<br /></div>
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Now I don’t know what to do for any of it! Where to go or how to “celebrate”.</div>
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<br /></div>
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I hate to leave my post like this. I always like to end on a positive note. Today is just too dreary, damp and depressing.</div>
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<br /></div>
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Maybe if the sun shines later I will add another happier comment…</div>
Sarahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07953334708365738152noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3332521523255515244.post-20581492635993219762012-08-25T22:15:00.002+01:002012-08-25T22:15:58.310+01:00A car for all journeys<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">
I have just found my post from exactly 1 year ago. It was written on the day I picked up my new car.<br />
<br />
I wrote about journeys and cars past and present, about being unique and yet being comforted by thoughts that others have travelled this tough road.<br />
<br />
Here's a special, silly little poem in honour of the Skoda that gets me from A to B. <br />
<br />
<div style="color: #783f04; font-family: "Courier New",Courier,monospace; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: large;">Happy Birthday car!</span></div>
<div style="color: #783f04; font-family: "Courier New",Courier,monospace; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: large;">We've travelled near and far.</span></div>
<div style="color: #783f04; font-family: "Courier New",Courier,monospace; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: large;">Through sunny days and rain</span></div>
<div style="color: #783f04; font-family: "Courier New",Courier,monospace; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: large;">Through tears and aching pain.</span></div>
<div style="color: #783f04; font-family: "Courier New",Courier,monospace; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: large;">With laughter, sometimes singing</span></div>
<div style="color: #783f04; font-family: "Courier New",Courier,monospace; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: large;">Occasionally a SHOUT! </span></div>
<div style="color: #783f04; font-family: "Courier New",Courier,monospace; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: large;">A helper on my journey</span></div>
<div style="color: #783f04; font-family: "Courier New",Courier,monospace; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: large;">Of that there is no doubt!</span></div>
<div style="color: #783f04; font-family: "Courier New",Courier,monospace; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<div style="color: #783f04; font-family: "Courier New",Courier,monospace; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<br />
And here's last year's post.<br />
<br />
<u>Same But Different</u><span style="font-size: x-small;"> (written 25th Aug 2011)</span><br />
<br />
“I don’t remember driving on this bit of road last time.” I thought to myself as I set off once more along the A1. I’d only travelled it a few weeks ago and I was certain I was going the right way. Why did it look so different?</div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">
Then it dawned on me, last time I drove this route there had been a serious hold up here and we barely moved for an hour! The scenery went past much slower. Two lanes merged into three just after the junction and then the road narrowed again back into two.</div>
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<br /></div>
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Same route but a different journey.</div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">
During our last journey we had passed the time in the traffic jam with a story tape called “Seriously Weird”. This
time the story CD from the library refused to play on the car CD player
and I’d already had complaints from the back despite the fact we were
making better progress.</div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">
On this occasion my eventual destination was somewhere different. I wouldn’t be turning off at the usual junction to visit my parents. This was an adventure for me and youngest son, oldest son being away on his own holiday escapade. </div>
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We were visiting friends and they had given me fantastic directions. My navigator in the back, now distracted from the lack of story CD, read them out to me, past
the sign to the swimming pool, Black Horse pub on the right, over two
mini roundabouts (can we really drive straight over the top?) and along
the wiggly road! The Sat Nav finally fell in line with the route we wanted to take and I amazed myself – I was driving in London!</div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">
OK
this may not be a very big deal for some of you and I was only in the
suburbs not the city but this was a journey I may not have even
considered if Andrew was still around. I would have chickened out and planned a time convenient for him to drive us instead.</div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">
It’s another step forward and something else to tick off on my own personal CV of achievements in the past nine months.</div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">
The word “journey” itself has been an interesting one this year.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">
The
Sunday before Andrew died as we sat in church together I was doodling
during the sermon, pretending to take notes, and it was a word that
popped into my head and it started my thoughts for the Nativity play
last year. I thought about all the characters and how they each had to travel to reach Bethlehem.</div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">
Maybe God had given the word for me personally as well?</div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">
And
now I have found out about “A Different Journey”, I wrote briefly about
it a couple of posts ago. It is a Christian organisation working with
people who have been widowed at a young age. It has been great getting in touch with others who are on a similar path and I have booked to go on a weekend away. It will be a chance to meet others travelling in the same direction, not the one we all expected when we set off.</div>
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<br /></div>
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I love the fact that we are on the same journey and have appreciated reading other people stories as they are a comfort.</div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">
The organiser wrote me an email and said</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">
<i><span style="font-size: 10pt; line-height: 115%;">“Although there are similarities each person’s journey is unique in time taken to grieve and recover.”</span></i></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">
However at the moment it is the sameness that most attracts me. The fact that these people can understand on a deeper level because they have shared this kind of journey.</div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">
There
are many times when I want to be unique and stand out in the crowd,
just look at the picture of the dress I posted in the last blog, that is
not the dress of a woman who wants to fade into the background and not
be noticed!</div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">
But then there are times when you just want to wear jeans and a T shirt, nothing special just something comfortable.</div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">
Today, in my jeans and Tshirt, I go and pick up the new car. Something else “different”. Something else that Andrew hasn’t shared with me.</div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">
I
was sorting out the documents to take to the garage and found the
receipts for both our current car and the previous family car we bought
together. I looked at how much we had spent before and
satisfied myself that I had made a sensible purchase price wise this
time, Andrew would be smiling. But then I always imagine him smiling down at me with each new step forward I take.</div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">
(I
have a photo of "happy" Andrew by my laptop and that’s the face I
always see giving me courage to carry on despite the tears. A few are
inevitably falling as I type...)</div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">
Our current car was imported it, a cheaper viable option at the time. When it was delivered Andrew was away.</div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">
“What do I do when it arrives?” I was flustered.</div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">
“Just look round it and make sure it looks OK. You’ll be fine.”</div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">
I knew he really wanted to be there to take delivery but he trusted me to do this on my own.</div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">
When the car arrived neither me and nor the delivery truck driver could find the CD player but that was the only "problem". It said CD on the radio so the man left reasoning it must be somewhere in the car. It was eventually found underneath the front passenger seat.</div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">
So I was the first person to drive our car and I will be the last, at least while I own it.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">
From now on I whatever journeys I make will be different even if they follow a familiar route.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">
And Andrew is still there smiling, trusting me to do the right thing without him here.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">
Some things are different but some will forever be the same.</div>
Sarahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07953334708365738152noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3332521523255515244.post-29746751408791596672012-08-22T14:31:00.001+01:002012-08-22T14:31:31.664+01:00still walking that hard path but looking back the view is astounding!<div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">
Here's a post I wrote
about a year ago. It was the middle of the summer holidays, I was
distraught and unable to cope. It wasn't an unusual feeling, holidays
have often been tough, routine goes out of the window and there is no
breathing space bewteen the hours of 9 and 3 when the boys are at
school.</div>
<div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">
I
was reflecting on these feelings yesterday while I sat at my
counselling session. After a couple of abortive attempts at therapy I
have finally found the most wonderful woman to talk to. It doesn't come
cheap but as the saying goes <i>you get what you pay for</i>!</div>
<div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">
This
summer I am calmer, more at peace with myself and with the world. Some
of my anger has been spent and oh so many tears have been wrung out of
me but I have evenually come to a place where I am ready to get up, dust
myself down and continue.</div>
<div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">
The
road hasn't changed, it's tough, full of grit and another word that
rhymes with it! There are still 3 of us living in the same big old house
and things are pretty much the same as they were twelve months ago.</div>
<div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">
But
I have grown - stronger, resilient, more patient, more forgiving of
myself. I have gained a perspective that only comes through time and
circumstance.</div>
<div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">
Grief
is such a long and winding road but I am glad of my blog, it gives me a
chance to look back over the road I've travelled and marvel at the
distance I've come so far...the view is astounding!</div>
<div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">
<a href="http://unravelling-edges.blogspot.com/2011/08/when-going-gets-tough.html?spref=bl">When the going gets tough….</a> ( written 15th Aug 2011)</div>
<div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">
Saturday
- I went into meltdown. This new life is too hard. Sunday - I
stamped my feet again and declared, “I can’t do this anym...</div>
Sarahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07953334708365738152noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3332521523255515244.post-67813429934295885222012-08-04T21:04:00.000+01:002012-08-04T21:04:39.549+01:00Scattered<div class="post-title entry-title" itemprop="name">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">It's just over a year since we picked up Andrew's ashes from the undertakers.</span> </div>
<div class="post-title entry-title" itemprop="name">
<br /></div>
<div class="post-title entry-title" itemprop="name">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Here's the poem I wrote about them.</span></div>
<div class="post-title entry-title" itemprop="name">
<br /></div>
<h4 class="post-title entry-title" itemprop="name" style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">
<span style="color: #274e13; font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">All That Remains </span></h4>
<div class="post-header">
</div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="color: #274e13; font-family: Verdana,sans-serif; text-indent: 36pt;">
Picked up ashes</div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="color: #274e13; font-family: Verdana,sans-serif; text-indent: 36pt;">
They run like sand through my fingers, </div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="color: #274e13; font-family: Verdana,sans-serif; text-indent: 36pt;">
Dark sand</div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="color: #274e13; font-family: Verdana,sans-serif; text-indent: 36pt;">
Like the shores of Tahiti.</div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="color: #274e13; font-family: Verdana,sans-serif; text-indent: 36pt;">
<br />
</div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="color: #274e13; font-family: Verdana,sans-serif; text-indent: 36pt;">
Volcanic black remains</div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="color: #274e13; font-family: Verdana,sans-serif; text-indent: 36pt;">
A place where our story began</div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="color: #274e13; font-family: Verdana,sans-serif; text-indent: 36pt;">
Love and tenderness intermingled.</div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="color: #274e13; font-family: Verdana,sans-serif; text-indent: 36pt;">
<br />
</div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="color: #274e13; font-family: Verdana,sans-serif; text-indent: 36pt;">
White bone,</div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="color: #274e13; font-family: Verdana,sans-serif; text-indent: 36pt;">
Black ash,</div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="color: #274e13; font-family: Verdana,sans-serif; text-indent: 36pt;">
And specks of golden wood.</div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="color: #274e13; font-family: Verdana,sans-serif; text-indent: 36pt;">
<br />
</div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="color: #274e13; font-family: Verdana,sans-serif; text-indent: 36pt;">
Weighing as much as our babies</div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="color: #274e13; font-family: Verdana,sans-serif; text-indent: 36pt;">
But heavier by far,</div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="color: #274e13; font-family: Verdana,sans-serif; text-indent: 36pt;">
The weight of the world</div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="color: #274e13; font-family: Verdana,sans-serif; text-indent: 36pt;">
Encompassed in a shoe box.</div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="color: #274e13; font-family: Verdana,sans-serif; text-indent: 36pt;">
<br />
</div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="color: #274e13; font-family: Verdana,sans-serif; text-indent: 36pt;">
The depth of our love</div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="color: #274e13; font-family: Verdana,sans-serif; text-indent: 36pt;">
To be blown on the wind.</div>
<div class="post-title entry-title" itemprop="name">
<br /></div>
<div class="post-title entry-title" itemprop="name">
<br /></div>
<div class="post-title entry-title" itemprop="name">
<br /></div>
<div class="post-title entry-title" itemprop="name">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">We stopped in Tahiti on our way to New Zealand for our honeymoon. It was the one place I always wanted us to return to when the boys had flown the nest. The beaches are made of black sand and I was reminded of them as I stared at the ashes before me.</span></div>
<div class="post-title entry-title" itemprop="name">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="post-title entry-title" itemprop="name">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Our dreams were gone and this was all that was left.</span></div>
<div class="post-title entry-title" itemprop="name">
<br /></div>
<div class="post-title entry-title" itemprop="name">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">If you click <a href="http://unravelling-edges.blogspot.co.uk/2011/07/i-dont-want-to-say-goodbye.html">here</a> you can read about the day we scattered them which typically didn't go to plan...</span></div>Sarahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07953334708365738152noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3332521523255515244.post-80424430581521234552012-07-24T13:57:00.000+01:002012-07-24T13:57:06.486+01:00Today last year....<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">
Haven't reposted anything here for a while but I just had a look at what I wrote last year. I think it was because I remembered that we scattered Andrew's ashes at the beginning of the summer holidays and I wanted to check the date. Actually it wasn't until the 29th but there are a couple of other posts worthwhile reposting too. All part of remembering... <br />
<br />
<br />
My Life in a Day <span style="font-size: x-small;">(written 24th July 2011)</span> <br />
<br />
I keep waking up early. My brain already active at 6 a.m. Although not always making sense. </div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">
It never used to be like this at the weekend. I used to wake up later. <b>We</b>
used to wake up later. Sleepily, lazily debating whose turn it was to
make the tea as we snuggled up together. Neither of us wanting to
relinquish the duvet nor the closeness.</div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">
I
rarely lie in with a cuppa now. By the time I’ve got up and boiled the
kettle there seems to be no point in going back to an empty bed.
Instead I search out friends on line; email and facebook have replaced
the quality early morning time spent with Andrew.</div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">
Sometimes
youngest son will climb in bed for a cuddle but I know we have to get
up and face another day. The routine of getting ready for school giving
us the much needed impetus to get moving.</div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">
But
now it’s the holidays, like a permanent weekend stretching into the
distance. A time of late nights and late mornings – if I can ever
switch my brain off and blissfully sleep beyond the eight o’clock mark.
I'd be happy if the numbers on the clock started with a seven!</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">
Last time I wrote about my heart, how I was feeling. It races along in a daydream looking for something to fill in the cracks.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">
Meanwhile
my head tries to keep things in perspective and slow things down.
Heeding advice and urging caution. In my head I know that all this talk
of finding a new house, a new man and starting my new life, is
realistically a while off, there are still many hurdles to negotiate.
The grieving process is a long one and far more draining that I ever
thought imaginable.</div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">
I’m still sorting things out slowly in tiny manageable pieces.</div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">
Yesterday
I moved a few things around on Andrew’s desk in a haphazard attempt at
tidying, suddenly I found the memory card from the old camera. The
camera which had been dropped and broken last summer. The one Andrew
took apart with a view to fixing! The memory card had been misplaced
and I’ve spent all these months desperately looking for it. I think it
may contain the last ever photo of the two of us. Finding it made me
cry, tears that were a mixture of joy and sadness.</div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">
As
well as sorting the mess Andrew left behind, there is my own stuff to
deal with. The truth is whenever and wherever we move to the new house
will be smaller than this one so there is a lot of de-cluttering to be
done. I keep far too much, hording mementos that remind me of the happy
times and special events. </div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">
I
have a box of keepsakes packed from the last time we moved eight years
ago. It is filled with acceptances for our wedding invitations, wedding
cards and anniversary cards, old photos albums, girl guide badges,
school reports and certificates – I have proof that I can safely ride a
bike, swim and that I passed my music theory exam with full marks in
1980! I have rediscovered that I was enrolled in the junior Red Cross
for a short while, and on my first school trip to France I saved
receipts and yoghurt pot lids in a scrap book!</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">
But
there are bigger items I have realised I will have to give away. We
have always had plenty of space and so kept the cot and the high chair,
there are also lots of old games and toys in the loft too. My head says
it’s sensible to let go now. My heart still wants to hang on.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">
It
is my heart that somehow lives in the past and the future. Able to
hold on and look forward. My head tries to see things clearly and weigh
up the sensible options for the here and now. I’ve got to somehow get
them to balance and achieve a perfect tension between them. Not letting
one overrule the other.</div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">
In
today’s service the Old Testament reading was from 1 Kings Chapter 3.
It was a passage where King Solomon askes God for the wisdom he needs to
rule over the people. He knows he can’t do it in his own strength. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">
My
task is far less daunting but I still need God's guidance and
discernment to help me make the right choices for us as a family.
Making decisions was something Andrew and I did together. Now we need
to work out as a family of 3 what we need to keep and carry with us to
the next phase. No "throwing away the baby with the bathwater" – even
if there is no cot for him to sleep in when we reach our final
destination!</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">
The
other day I wrote about longing for my next chapter “What Sarah did
Next”, when I added my blog to Facebook there were all my friends
reminding me of “What Sarah did Before”. Friends from now, from
college, from sixth form and from school. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">
They have each shared a part of my life and helped shape the person I am today. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">
These
are the things they reminded me. I am still the same person I always
was. I have never done anything by halves. I am faithful and loyal to
my friends. And finally whichever era of my life they came from they
all agreed I have a future and maybe my writing has a big part to play.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">
Today
I started writing early in the morning and with all the normal
interruptions of the day it has taken me until almost midnight to get to
somewhere near the end.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">
Brain
still ticking, thinking, pondering even though it sometimes seems to be
as battered as my heart and incapable of making any rational
judgements.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">
As
much as I hate early mornings in bed alone I loathe the nights. I drag
out my night time routines procrastinating, trying to attain such a
sleepy state that it won’t matter I am on my own. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">
It’s
a common enough thing to do if your husband works away, I’ve spoken to
other wives who tell me they do the same and I always went to bed far
later when Andrew was off shore.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">
So it’s one more check of the emails and Facebook and I’ll post this before I go. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">
<br /></div>Sarahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07953334708365738152noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3332521523255515244.post-62235435481609960352012-05-14T20:18:00.000+01:002012-05-14T20:18:16.950+01:00Still learning to knit (with only one needle…)<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">Today I popped into a new wool shop in town. It opened a couple of months ago and although I am follow them on Facebook I'd not had the chance to take a look for myself.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">The shelves were stacked with beautiful yarn, every colour of the rainbow, soft, silky and fluffy. Wool is becoming a must have commodity.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">"I must learn to knit properly!" I exclaimed to my friend as we left.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">"You can knit." she scoffed.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">Well I can but only the basics and I certainly can't figure out a knitting pattern.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">All of which has little to do with this post I wrote almost a year ago except the title.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">There are times I re-read my writing
from a year ago and think it's rubbish and then there are times when it
surprises me, sometimes it's the content, the way I've expressed an idea or the fact that I have moved on from that point.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">Sometimes re-reading makes me believe I CAN write and have something to say! </span> <br />
<div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">
<br /></div>
<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">So often we tell our kids they can do ANYTHING if they put their mind to it, practice and keep trying.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">There's a lesson in here somewhere and once again it's perseverance, picking yourself up and carrying on with whatever life throws at you. </span><br />
<br />
<br />
<h3 class="post-title entry-title" style="color: #20124d;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">I’m knitting with only one needle…</span></h3>
<h3 class="post-title entry-title" style="color: #20124d; font-weight: normal;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">(posted 15th May 2011)</span> </span>
</h3>
<div class="post-header" style="color: #20124d;">
</div>
<br style="color: #20124d;" />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="color: #20124d; font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">
I’ve figured something out.<span> </span>I’m now officially out of sync with the rest of my generation.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="color: #20124d; font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">
<br />
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="color: #20124d; font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">
I’ve always felt odd, a bit different.<span> </span>In my best and most positive moments I would describe myself as unique!</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="color: #20124d; font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">
<br />
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="color: #20124d; font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">
I shouldn’t be a widow at 43!<span> </span>Nobody should be.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="color: #20124d; font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">
<br />
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="color: #20124d; font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">
My peers, my friends have husbands and families to share their lives with.<span> </span>They do things together. Ups, downs, tears, tantrums, joy and laughter.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="color: #20124d; font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">
<br />
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="color: #20124d; font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="color: #20124d; font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">
We
were at the stage of the children growing more independent yet still
needing us and we were making those adjustments required to accommodate
adolescence.<span> </span>We had a long way to go but we were learning – together.<span> </span>A mutual help and support group of two.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="color: #20124d; font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">
<br />
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="color: #20124d; font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">
OK it’s not like that for everyone.<span> </span>There are lots of people who are on their own.<span> </span>Some people never meet that special someone to share their life with.<span> </span>I was “lucky”, for a while.<span> </span>For
someone who suffered so much anxiety and self-doubt growing up that I
would never meet anyone, I counted myself as truly blessed – most of the
time.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="color: #20124d; font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">
<br />
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="color: #20124d; font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">
But now that’s gone.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="color: #20124d; font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">
<br />
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="color: #20124d; font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">
Nobody should be a widow in their early 40s when there are still jobs to be done.<span> </span>The children still need raising, the house still needs fixing.<span> </span>It is a time to plan together for the empty nest.<span> </span>The years at the end when we get the chance to fly too, satisfied we’ve done our best.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="color: #20124d; font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">
<br />
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="color: #20124d; font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">
My parents are away on holiday at the moment, a coach trip to Scotland.<span> </span>Just them and their friends relaxing and having fun.<span> </span>That should have been us in twenty years time.<span> </span>Only I always wanted us to return to Tahiti, a romantic getaway, same hotel, our exotic paradise with black sand…. </div>
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I have been enjoying walking round my garden more and more, usually in the morning.<span> </span>It seems like the thing to do, to admire new growth. <span> </span>I am going to write some more about that another day.<span> </span>My last post about the garden was a very popular one, this time I may include some photos!</div>
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While taking a wander this morning (still in my dressing gown, because I can!) I thought about not quite fitting in.</div>
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To me the word “widow” conjures up an image of an older woman with her family grown.<span> </span>She is able to visit children, even grandchildren, but still have her own space to do the things she dreams of.<span> </span>Memories
make her smile and some may bring tears but she treasures the time
spent together with her husband and the family they created together.</div>
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Of course in reality “widows” come in all shapes and sizes.<span> Some older and some even younger than me.</span></div>
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It’s just at the moment I am quite angry at the unfairness of it all.<span> </span>It wasn’t even as if I picked at man considerably older than me so I somehow expected this to happen so early.<span> </span>Six years isn’t a huge age gap.</div>
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What I am most frustrated about at the moment is that I still have to raise the boys.<span> </span>I have no idea what goes on in their heads they are like a different species!<span> </span>This is a job for two people and I now have to do it alone.</div>
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Today’s title is from a Queen song that just happened to shuffle its way onto my iPod …</div>
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<b>I’m knitting on only one needle</b></div>
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<b>Unravelling fast it’s true</b></div>
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<b>I’m driving on only three wheels</b></div>
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<b>My dear, how about you?</b></div>
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<b>I’m going slightly mad</b></div>
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You can’t possibly knit on one needle so maybe I need to learn to crochet instead to hold us together.</div>
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The other week I did have a flat tyre and you can’t drive like that, maybe I just need to rely on others to keep me balanced.<span> </span>Or buy a Robin Reliant!</div>
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I am having to adjust to so much to do the best I can with what I’ve been given.<span> </span>Sometimes it is so hard and I feel like the pain will never end.<span> </span>I still don’t understand why it hurts so much more now than it did in the beginning.<span> </span>Probably reality hitting home. There are still moments every day when I stop and realise - Andrew's never coming back!</div>
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Sometimes it feels like I am going slightly mad so please bear with me while I acclimatise to my new state.<span> </span>The road ahead is still very bumpy but you can still follow if you wish…</div>Sarahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07953334708365738152noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3332521523255515244.post-31236419640228627822012-05-09T14:42:00.003+01:002012-05-09T14:42:45.485+01:00A big decision made last year<div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">
It was a whole year ago that the house went on the market, I know because I wrote about it!</div>
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Yesterday I wrote something for re-ravelling about the many journeys I make in a day, going to and from school, church, shops, my friends. Those 7 minute trips soon add up and often take an hour out of my day. </div>
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How I wish the boys could walk to school, they would gain so much freedom and I would get back my hour a day...</div>
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I long to move, to put the finishing touches to this chapter and begin the next one.</div>
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But I keep hearing from various sources that I should live in the present and enjoy the things I've got here and now, not always easy but I'm trying. </div>
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In the end I never posted my whingey post about my seven minute journeys, I've written too much lately about the lows, the things that pull me under.</div>
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I need to celebrate just how far I've come, enjoy living in this home Andrew and I created while we are still here and look back with satisfaction at all the decisions I have made...</div>
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<a href="http://unravelling-edges.blogspot.com/2011/05/sometimes-big-decisions-are-far-easier.html?spref=bl">unravelling edges: Sometimes the big decisions are far easier than th...</a>: Well I’ve done it! I’ve put the house on the market. The house Andrew and I lovingly worked on to create our family home. I remember...</div>Sarahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07953334708365738152noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3332521523255515244.post-16047856606645857592012-05-02T19:06:00.000+01:002012-05-02T19:06:29.355+01:00Last year I wrote a poem that didn't rhyme...<div class="MsoNormal" style="color: #4c1130; font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">
A year ago I wrote and posted this "sort of" poem about all the things I should be doing but just don't have the time or inclination to complete. Also about the impossible things on my list that I will never achieve and how the "shoulds" and the "nevers" merge into one...</div>
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Here I sit a year on and wonder how much has changed, some days are still a hard slog. I could make the excuse that our wedding anniversary is coming around soon, so it is another difficult time of the year, but it would be an excuse, grief has so many ups and downs not always connected to dates or seasons. Sometimes it has more to do with the weather!</div>
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Today, this year, I have nearly reached the bottom of my ironing pile, have written a letter and posted a birthday card and present. I also finished the crossword with youngest son, otherwise I have not been at my most productive. There are lots of things I "should" have done with my free day.</div>
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I wonder what I will be doing this time next year? How much my life will have changed or if I will still only be moving in baby steps, unsure and uncertain...</div>
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<b><u>Today I wrote a Poem That Didn't Rhyme...</u></b> </div>
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<span style="font-size: x-small;">(posted 2nd May 2011)</span></div>
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Today I should have cooked a wholesome meal and made sure the boys had at least maybe three portions of fresh fruit and veg.</div>
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Today
I should have worried about world peace and that particularly
unpleasant situation that’s flared up in some far flung corner of the
globe.</div>
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Today
I should have climbed a mountain, swam the entire length of the Amazon
and popped to the Antarctic before the ice caps melt.</div>
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Today
I should have telephoned my friend who’s sick, wrapped and posted a
birthday present and replied to that email I got two weeks ago.</div>
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Today
I should have tidied that cupboard, recycled my cardboard, cut out
those coupons and written a shopping list so I don’t forget to buy the
toilet rolls again next week.</div>
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Today
I should have practiced flying on the trapeze and learnt Ophelia’s
lines from Hamlet. I should have baked that cake with icing and a
cherry on the top!</div>
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Today
I remembered to breathe. I did one load of washing but left the
ironing. I fed the boys pasta for the third day in a row.</div>
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Last
week I left the dishes in the sink and post unopened on the table. I
forgot to charge my phone and I was only 14p in credit.</div>
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The
month before I couldn’t do the crossword without you and I woke up in a
panic at ten to twelve worried I hadn’t locked the front door.</div>
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Six
months ago you were here to change the light bulbs and shut the gate at
night. You were someone to impress with my culinary skills.</div>
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Today I remembered to breathe. I spent time talking to the children. I visited your mum. I wrote a poem.</div>
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Today I made it, somehow I got through. I shed a tear. I thought of you.</div>
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P.S. I didn’t really feed the boys pasta three days in a row, it just felt like it.</div>
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P.P.S. If you are the one who didn’t get the phone call, birthday card or email. Please know that I am thinking of you.</div>
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Today I hope that my thought counts! x</div>Sarahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07953334708365738152noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3332521523255515244.post-5147622633876064132012-04-28T11:33:00.000+01:002012-04-28T11:33:09.912+01:00Anniversaries<div class="post-title entry-title">
<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">The Royal Wedding was almost a year ago which means this weekend William and Kate will be celebrating their first wedding anniversary.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">First wedding anniversaries are paper ones, according to myth and legend, I wonder what gift William will give his bride?</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"> </span><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"> </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">On our first anniversary I gave Andrew a book about origami. </span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqWkAfaqyw5R5VB6D_3-L9leFGKEOWifcGWHUPKHQjSGu6guJYvvMuT_ohhptTht9O-ymxU1SbXiUt6gM3uA9i2K4_3mKfkNYYtVepKvmYJoIuEsuxE0rnKm0x3UHjRPT6uOuy2ChXYNg/s1600/IMG_0948.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqWkAfaqyw5R5VB6D_3-L9leFGKEOWifcGWHUPKHQjSGu6guJYvvMuT_ohhptTht9O-ymxU1SbXiUt6gM3uA9i2K4_3mKfkNYYtVepKvmYJoIuEsuxE0rnKm0x3UHjRPT6uOuy2ChXYNg/s320/IMG_0948.JPG" width="240" /></a></div>
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I found it months ago and have kept it in the special drawer of Andrew's things, inside is a gift tag</div>
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To Andrew (Husband)</div>
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On our 1st anniversary</div>
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love Sarah (Wife) </div>
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xxx</div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">We would often call each other "husband" and "wife" and maybe it sounds silly or even degrading but it was always said with affection. We both liked the fact that we were a husband and a wife, two halves of a whole, it defined part of who we were...</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">...but before I get all teary, they are bubbling just under the surface here, let's see what I wrote last year and share some happy memories of wedding days...</span></div>
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Everybody loves a wedding
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Today is a very special day.<span> </span></div>
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The day of the royal wedding between Prince William and Catherine Middleton.</div>
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I’m sat watching the TV as I type and at the moment the discussion is all about <b>the </b>dress.<span> </span>Then
we cut to a sweeping view over the London skyline followed by a shot of
the inside of Westminster Abbey filling with guests in their finery.</div>
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Everybody loves a wedding.<span> </span>For Kate this is the day she becomes a real princess but every girl on her wedding day has her chance to be a princess.<span> </span></div>
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I remember my “princess” moment.<span> </span>In fact my day was made up of a myriad of tiny moments and precious memories.</div>
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Before the day itself there is all the planning.</div>
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I
listened with interest to the reports of how Catherine had definite
ideas about how she wanted the wedding to look, especially the trees
that lined the nave of the church, the flowers used and their meaning.<span> </span>It is a bride’s prerogative to have the day she desires.</div>
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For me I always knew I wanted a dress with “something blue” as part of the design.<span> </span>I
wanted to make it myself and I only ever tried on one other wedding
dress and that was my mother’s, my standby dress if I irreversibly
messed up my own.<span> </span></div>
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The
blue in my dress took the form of silk flowers around the scooped,
ruched neckline and the tiny fabric covered buttons that ran down my
back.<span> </span>I also made bow ties for my two page boys with the
same material and the shade of blue perfectly matched my Ceylon sapphire
engagement ring.</div>
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I
had a bouquet of silk flowers so I could continue the hint of blue
theme, there aren’t many naturally occurring blue flowers to choose
from.<span> </span>The bouquet still sits on a shelf in my bedroom today.</div>
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Other details I remember from the day are making sure I got to the church on time.<span> </span>Andrew declared if I wasn’t there on time he wouldn’t wait!<span> </span></div>
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My dad and I walked to the church from my mother-in-laws house as it was only yards away and just across the road.<span> </span>We
had no official wedding video but there is an amateur recording of me
and my dad arriving on foot and having to back track quickly as Andrew
and his brothers were still outside the church being photographed and I
didn’t want to be seen by them before my grand entrance!</div>
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The
service was reasonably informal and I will always treasure the sight of
my two small nephews, my page boys, sitting on the floor in front of us
drawing while we listened to the reading and sermon.</div>
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Then
there was a time after the meal when Andrew and I looked across into an
adjoining room and spotted his brother having what we later referred to
as a “Bailey’s moment”.<span> </span>He’d found somewhere to sit away from the hustle and bustle and have a private celebratory drink.</div>
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We didn’t have our evening reception until the following Saturday.<span> </span>The wedding took place in Andrew’s home town, where we had met and the evening “do” where I had grown up.<span> </span>It was a chance to wear my dress for a second time and invite even more family and friends to celebrate with us.</div>
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So on our actual wedding day Andrew and I managed to slip away fairly early in the evening and head off home together.<span> </span>Not many people know that I made him carry me over the threshold in the traditional style when we arrived!</div>
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We shared another secret as we then headed off to another hotel for our wedding night.<span> </span>I always had a dream of going back and celebrating an anniversary in the future, maybe a special one, just the two of us.</div>
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Our wedding was nearly 17 years ago but now I’ll never be married for more than sixteen years, seven months and six days.<span> </span>That thought hit me pretty early on.<span> </span>We will never celebrate twenty years of marriage or reach our silver wedding anniversary.<span> </span>I felt cheated by that thought and still do.<span> </span>To reach these milestones is an achievement.</div>
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Our anniversary is just over a week away on the 7th May, and it’s my next big hurdle to overcome.<span> </span><span> </span>We never made much fuss in the past but part of me is already dreading how I’m going to be on that day.</div>
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As
it happens the boys and I have been invited to a friend’s fortieth
birthday party that day and it is being held in the church we got
married in.<span> </span>I think it’s quite fitting to celebrate a
happy occasion along with some of the friends who shared our own special
day all those years ago.</div>
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But the trouble with grief is you never quite know what is going to trip you up.<span> </span>You can be fine one minute and the smallest thing can knock you off your feet.<span> </span>Sometimes you can’t even put your finger on what set you off again.<span> </span>Somehow all the tiny details align and you realise the enormity of the whole picture.<span> </span>It’s overwhelming.</div>
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Last week I found Easter particularly difficult. <span> </span>Death and resurrection.<span> </span>I cried at every service but fortunately I was surrounded by friends and felt comfortable to let my true feelings show.</div>
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As I’ve been writing this William and Kate have become man and wife.<span> </span>The world has seen <b>the</b> dress and watched them publically affirm their vows.<span> </span>They are now continuing their festivities with family and friends.<span> </span></div>
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I wish them well and pray they have a long and happy life together.<span> </span>Today
has been such a grand occasion but I hope they remember the tiniest of
details, treasuring their own special moments from this day.<span> </span></div>Sarahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07953334708365738152noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3332521523255515244.post-41559964427137323952012-04-17T16:52:00.000+01:002012-04-17T16:52:41.107+01:00Problem Solving - Past and Present<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">
One of the real joys of home ownership is all the maintainance and problem solving to be done when things go wrong - OK so maybe it isn't a joy.<br />
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This year's obstacle to be overcome is the broken bolier but last year it was a water leak.<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGIbXlRqgW8AecdUbp9NoZEXLkpybL7DA4SVcwe-QEToJ4rjcWulaGYMCANDVj1ykxHf_5N4racA15Anivh0HbfgNcHW0stduau_k3zYH8RoaOdPPXjDQ1Wn4ERlTyHCQvm8AheBEtAbs/s1600/IMG_0120.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGIbXlRqgW8AecdUbp9NoZEXLkpybL7DA4SVcwe-QEToJ4rjcWulaGYMCANDVj1ykxHf_5N4racA15Anivh0HbfgNcHW0stduau_k3zYH8RoaOdPPXjDQ1Wn4ERlTyHCQvm8AheBEtAbs/s320/IMG_0120.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">My garden once looked like this...</td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjuTmuaaBmLjWwnzu92n7Uk_3iEG1DDkI5NqvesL4K3KVwW__ubm1R2PHwj3XhBjy4SsDHg-FgnFIKAttJ_22r7EUvAcW5_6pNsYq-XZ9Ms2s8UMJKhDwXkJiEUuehMRjSAU4J-SXNXhBo/s1600/IMG_0946.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjuTmuaaBmLjWwnzu92n7Uk_3iEG1DDkI5NqvesL4K3KVwW__ubm1R2PHwj3XhBjy4SsDHg-FgnFIKAttJ_22r7EUvAcW5_6pNsYq-XZ9Ms2s8UMJKhDwXkJiEUuehMRjSAU4J-SXNXhBo/s320/IMG_0946.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">...but now looks like this!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
The situation caused a lot of trauma and heartache at the time but hopefully I learnt a few lessons along the way and have at least been a bit calmer this year with the bolier.<br />
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I may not have felt calm and responsible, or even acted it, but on reflection I have felt just a bit more capable of sorting it out on my own. Even if I haven't followed all the advice given. <br />
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Good decision? Bad decision? Always MY decision! That's something I am learning daily and probably something I started to get to grips with last year with the water leaking incident.<br />
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Anyway here's what I wrote then about the man who fixed the leak when just about eveyone else had failed...<br />
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<b><span style="font-size: large;">A Man with a Van and a Spade</span></b><br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;">(posted 14th April 2011)</span> <br />
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I have been having a long running saga with a cracked/broken/leaking water pipe. </div>
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Several people have been involved in searching for the offending pipe.</div>
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A bit of digging, a fence pulled down. A wall removed stone by stone. More digging.</div>
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The location of the pipe was a complete mystery. Somewhere under some tree roots perhaps? Twisted, tangled and damaged!</div>
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The man from the water company came and traced the pipes with a fancy gadget like a metal detector. So now we knew where to dig…</div>
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But
then there was the problem of the tree it already grew at an angle
leaning towards the house and garage and the roots were being severely
undermined.</div>
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We called the tree man who said “STOP! No more digging until the tree comes down.”</div>
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The tree came down and the digging resumed.</div>
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My dad dug deeper and deeper with no success.</div>
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Everything
STOPPED for a second time as I called the insurance company to see if
we were covered and they could send out some professionals.</div>
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“They’ll
send a team of men with a digger and all the right equipment.” said my
dad knowingly relieved he could at last go and dig another part of the
garden and terrify the weeds!</div>
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We waited.</div>
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On Tuesday a man in a van with a spade turned up!</div>
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He had to ring me from just around the corner to find out where my house was. I was full of doubt, fearing my on-going saga would never end.</div>
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The man muttered to himself, leant on his spade and pondered. He seemed to be digging in a different direction. Certainly not the way the man from the water company had led us to believe in.</div>
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But this man had his own detector gadget and that was obviously telling him something different and who was I to interfere?</div>
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After a few hours of digging, muttering, detecting he found the pipe and fixed it – all quite simple really. There was no stress and no drama. It was my dad who had been digging in the wrong direction all along due to a false reading!</div>
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In the end it took just one man in a van with a spade to do what six men between them couldn’t achieve!</div>
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His big advantage was that he had everything he needed to hand. A spade to dig, the technical gadgetry to trace the pipes and the knowledge how to fix them. Everything came together perfectly.</div>
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Oh if only everything in life was so simple. </div>
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I wrote the other day about feeling like a child. What I really want right now is someone to tell me all the answers. I’m worried I might be digging in a misguided direction and things will go terribly wrong.</div>
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My only task is to make the good choices for me and the boys. Ultimately there are no rights and wrongs in the decisions I make just other people’s opinions. Life
is full of twists and turns and like everyone else I just have to do
the best I can with the resources and information I have to hand.</div>
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I’ve
made some decisions already, some hastily out of necessity and others
I’ve pondered long and hard, still not knowing the answers.</div>
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I know already that some decisions I've already taken may have been made differently in hindsight.</div>
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But I have reached the stage where I am trying to take some control and I need to rely on this strength I supposedly have. It’s hard work and the scariest thing I’ve ever had to do. </div>
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If it just affected me it might be easier but truthfully without the boys to keep me going I may not have got this far!</div>
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I need to give myself permission to fail. It is OK if I don’t get it all right. I can dig holes all over the garden looking for answers if I want to!</div>
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However just now I need to STOP a while and take stock. The boys are off school on their Easter holiday so I need to take a break too. Let things settle in much the same way I did over the Christmas holiday. </div>
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Maybe
some answers will come in the quiet stillness of resting and if not
when the boys go back to school I will once more pick up my spade and
start digging!</div>
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<br /></div>Sarahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07953334708365738152noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3332521523255515244.post-4727135522924204252012-04-10T16:52:00.000+01:002012-04-10T16:52:39.466+01:00So what's changed in a year?<div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">
I wrote this almost a year ago and still it almost all holds true. This is how I felt then and I don't feel like I've moved much further now. I'm stuck in a loop, in a game where I keep landing on the "go back three spaces" square.</div>
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So much is still the same and I can't see anything changing in the immediate future.</div>
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Guess I just have to learn to live with the here and now. Just wish I knew how to...</div>
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Caught between the past and future tense <span style="font-size: small; font-weight: normal;">(written</span><span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-weight: normal;"> 21st April 2011</span></span>)</h3>
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I haven’t written anything for about a week and I’m struggling to think of what to write.<span> </span>I seem to have used up all my ideas and already written all the thoughts that run round my head…</div>
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Last week I wrote about finding some peace and quiet.<span> </span>About downing tools and having a rest.</div>
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Why is that so hard?<span> </span>Admittedly we’ve been busy because the boys are off school and there have been different but extra things to do.</div>
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What I find hardest is my brain doesn’t stop, doesn’t rest or switch off.<span> </span>All the jobs I have to do, all the options I’m considering are always there bubbling away. </div>
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I’m very good at writing platitudes about resting and stopping but not so good at living them.</div>
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As I said at the start I feel like I’ve used up all my creative ideas.</div>
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I’m still trying NOT to measure my days by achievements, attempting to get some peace.<span> </span>How many times have I written this stuff?</div>
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I feel disjointed.<span> </span>Some parts of me have moved on.<span> </span>There are some things I’m doing differently because I can.</div>
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It's a small example but I’m wearing make-up and perfume more and more.<span> </span>Andrew hated it but these days’ new eye shadows and mascaras are finding their way into the weekly shopping trolley.<span> </span>He
said I looked fine without it, wouldn’t even kiss me with lipstick on,
but there are times when I look in the mirror and know I need an extra
bit of “sparkle”.<span> </span>Who is that old woman?</div>
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However sometimes I feel like I’m all talk and no action.<span> </span>I have fanciful plans and dreams but I have lost “the wind beneath my wings”, as Bette Midler sang about in Beaches.</div>
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My confidence is slipping.<span> </span>I can recognise the beginning of the downward spiral where everyone else does things so much better than me.<span> </span>There must be a more interesting blog to be reading than this one?</div>
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I’m caught between the old life I can’t have and a new one I have to rebuild.<span> </span>It won’t necessarily be better but different.</div>
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I'd trade this new one for the old one in a heartbeat! </div>
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I wrote a poem a while ago called “Caught between the past and future tense”.<span> </span>I never posted it because it wasn’t finished.<span> </span>I’m still not sure I’m 100% happy with it but it talks so much of what I’ve written today…</div>
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<i><u>Caught between the past and future tense</u></i></div>
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<i>Sometimes… I catch myself</i></div>
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<i>Falling in between</i></div>
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<i>What was and is</i></div>
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<i>I say “we do that”</i></div>
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<i>Instead of shifting</i></div>
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<i>The word “do” to “did”</i></div>
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<i>Shifting my world</i></div>
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<i>From “us” to “I”</i></div>
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<i>I get stuck somewhere in the middle</i></div>
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<i>Of what is and is no more</i></div>
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<i>And can never be</i></div>
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<i>Sometimes I hear myself </i></div>
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<i>Laugh and dream </i></div>
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<i>Of what will be</i></div>
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<i>I say “next time I…”</i></div>
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<i>And move my world on</i></div>
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<i>Like winding round the hands of a clock</i></div>
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<i>Embracing the future</i></div>
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<i>I get wound up in a wish</i></div>
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<i>Of what can be</i></div>
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<i>New hope to enfold me</i></div>
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<i>Sometimes I am all too aware</i></div>
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<i>Of where I am</i></div>
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<i>What is.<span> </span>The Here.<span> </span>The Now.</i></div>
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<i>I say “this is too hard without you!”</i></div>
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<i>The day-to-day-one-foot-in-front-of-the-other routine</i></div>
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<i>I get lost in the myriad of conflicting voices</i></div>
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<i>I just want to hide and cover my ears</i></div>
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<i>Curl up in a ball and disappear.</i></div>
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There’s a cliché that the present is so called because it is a gift.<span> </span>At the moment it is a cruel one.<span> </span></div>
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I’ve called this blog unravelling edges and I feel I am still coming undone.</div>
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<span></span>Imagine accidently catching your favourite cardigan on an unseen nail and it pulls.<span> </span>You immediately want to be able to step back in time, spot the offending barb and sidestep it altogether.<span> </span></div>
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<span>There are alway sharp points that catch you unawares, </span>a song, a comment, an item you uncover and you crumple.<span> </span>Sometimes just a few tears and other times a torrent of “why?” and “how?” and “what do I do now?”</div>
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My post seems pretty depressing today.<span> </span>I am mostly optimistic for the future but in the present I have reached the point where I know Andrew isn’t coming back.<span> </span>I’m still adjusting and fine tuning but I finally accept he’s gone – for good.<span> </span></div>
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I wish I could end on a more positive note, I really am trying to find one.</div>
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I just received an email from a friend of my mum’s asking for the link to this blog, if it wasn’t private.</div>
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Should I keep my thoughts to myself?<span> </span>Should I just stop “curl up in a ball and disappear” like the end of my poem?</div>
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But if you have read this far don’t you want to know how this turns out?<span> </span>I can’t promise a happy ending but I love the fairytales where everyone does get to live happily ever after.</div>
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Somewhere between the past and the future tense is NOW and that’s where I am living at present.<span> </span></div>
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It’s the bit where Cinderella is clearing up after her ugly sisters when they have been invited to the ball.<span> </span></div>
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It’s where Frodo and Sam are struggling towards Mount Doom through the wastelands of Mordor.</div>
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Being topical it’s the Saturday between Good Friday and Easter Sunday.<span> </span></div>
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Somewhere between the worst thing that’s ever happened and the resurrection.</div>Sarahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07953334708365738152noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3332521523255515244.post-53667734802256878322012-03-31T14:23:00.000+01:002012-03-31T14:23:33.466+01:00unravelling edges revisited - an Easter Blessing<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">Time goes by and once more we are approaching Easter. A time of sorrow on Good Friday, yet a time of great rejoicing at the resurrection</span>.<br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">Last year I had the priviledge of writing something for the church notice sheet as we were still between vicars, what I wrote was a resurrection story with a twist.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">It was a big step for me at the time to complete a piece of writing that was not about losing a husband and being a widow. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">It's worth re-posting as an example of how God can make something new from something discarded if we let him... </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: 14pt;">An Unusual Easter Blessing</span></div>
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It was an unassuming, very ordinary mobile phone with no fancy features. Left on the shelf for months, discarded twice in its life for a newer model.</div>
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Originally it was my phone, an upgrade from the “brick” that wouldn’t fit in my pocket.</div>
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Eventually the lack of a colour screen or ability to take photos made it less desirable. However with a new cover it made a perfect first phone for our oldest son.</div>
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Inevitably he soon also wanted something more sophisticated and cool.</div>
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But our old phone has found new life in a most unexpected way.</div>
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A young man, I once had the privilege of teaching in Sunday School, put out a plea on Facebook for an old mobile phone he could use for work. His job is as a youth leader. </div>
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I caught up with him the other day and he explained my old phone’s new purpose.</div>
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It has become a phone for his youth group to text their prayer requests to.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjnIXdtpYe4YSoifFfPYQXpfo2oxjd4xVar1Vs2Jo5uMBqbFLUcNc619ZDp85VVK6HOWiFdEhpyr-bWzBOoBaCGDhOpiR64vYPbv5xV9VGv8dVJJdw-ulxmyaXi0shiUEbFNl2dLOp4zsM/s1600/1245474699-1.jpg" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjnIXdtpYe4YSoifFfPYQXpfo2oxjd4xVar1Vs2Jo5uMBqbFLUcNc619ZDp85VVK6HOWiFdEhpyr-bWzBOoBaCGDhOpiR64vYPbv5xV9VGv8dVJJdw-ulxmyaXi0shiUEbFNl2dLOp4zsM/s200/1245474699-1.jpg" width="183" /></a>My old phone number has been resurrected as a PRAYER HOTLINE!</div>
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This Easter praise God that he can make everything new and take all that we give him to use for his glory.</div>
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And remember when Jesus died on the cross and rose again he gave us all a direct prayer hotline to our Father in Heaven.</div>
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Hallelujah and Happy Easter!</div>
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</div>Sarahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07953334708365738152noreply@blogger.com1