Tag: writing

Twenty One – A Poem

 

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This is the poem I wrote for my wonderful man as we celebrated rather simply our 21st Anniversary, we did not need anything fancy, as always we were just glad to be together, to spend the day doing something different, we visited an old favourite place and forgot our troubles for a while. He is my rock, there by my side through it all and I did not know that I would love him now more than ever. 

As we walk towards our future,
Place our footprints in the sand.
You will turn and smile at me
And I will hold your hand.
The life we have together,
Is not easy as it seems.
But after all these years have passed,
Your ’e still the Man of my Dreams.
Some thought we weren’t so suited
And try as they may to part,
But you are the right one Darling,
Who has always had my heart.
Although we’re not yet married,
It’s not been the right time.
We are still together
And we get along just fine.
We have had just Twenty One
And I’d like twenty more.
To see together what will come
And what life holds in store.
I knew quite soon I loved you,
You were special from the start.
Didn’t know that this time later,
You’d still hold firm my heart.
So as we celebrate this time,
And what life to us has thrown.
We will carry on just building
And know that we have grown.
Since people couldn’t break us
And we haven’t just forgot.
That we’ve had it so much longer
And better than a lot.
You see things are sent to try us
And try us as they may.
Out love just grows much stronger,
Each and every day.

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The Daily Post – Together

Images: Morguefile.com

Twenty One – Remembering The Girl in the Blue Dress

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This post is in Celebration, the fact that we made it to our 21st Anniversary and were able to celebrate with a day together doing some of the things we used to do. Yesterday for the first time in so long, we felt able to smile freely, laugh and talk about the girl in the blue dress, who walked everywhere and who he kept bumping into.

At the time we first met, there had been a series of commercials for The Post Office on the television, explaining all the many services and items that were available there. The catchphrase of this particular campaign was “It’s amazing what you can pick up at The Post Office!”

It sure is….
On a spring day, I was walking into town via the beach, I had things on my mind and it was a good hours walk from home to the High Street. I didn’t drive at the time and had very little work, so I walked everywhere. It was hot and I walked into the small post office near to the walkway down to the beach, to get a drink I was met by the sight of a small child of about 4 years old being tipped upside down and spun around and shrieking with laughter by a man in the shop. There is something quite lovely about hearing unexpected laughter from a child, especially when you have things on your mind and at the time my Grandmother was very ill and I was worried about her. As the tickling began of the postmasters’ daughter, between giggling, she begged him to stop as she was breathless from laughing.

I purchased my drink and the throwaway remark as I was about to leave the shop, “Why don’t you pick on someone your own size?” He stopped and turned and smiled at me, I smiled back laughing and left. It was the first of several unexpected meetings, time we met.

A few weeks later, I was walking again, by then it was very warm but I liked the beach better when it was quiet. I had walked for three hours to meet a friend to go out on their boat for the afternoon and had missed them and was returning home hot and tired. I had some walking boots which had a heel and I loved them since I could walk for miles. I was wearing a lovely soft blue summer dress I had bought on the day my Grandmother died. I was in town that day and saw it. Thought it was a lovely dress, fitted and flared and bias cut which was very flattering and a perfect fit when I tried it on. It had crossover straps at the back and was the perfect summer dress. I thought about buying it and placed it back on the rail. I couldn’t really afford it. As I walked around the other shops, my thoughts we drawn back to the dress, My Nanny loved me in pretty dresses, she would have liked that one. It was blue, my favourite colour and was well made. I scratched around in my purse and found I had just enough to buy it and was due to be paid in a couple of days. I had food and electric, so I purchased the dress. She would have wanted me to have it.

As I walked up from the beach I thought I would make a phone call.
There was someone in there, piles of change on the side making a call. I waited for some time in the hope that he would vacate and I would be able to use the phone and some 15 minutes later he was not showing any signs of doing so. I tapped on the window, he opened the door and I asked if he was going to be long since I also needed to make a call. As he turned to look at me, it was him. A few moments later he came out puffing a cigar to allow me to use the phone. I made my phone call and afterwards we sat on the bench outside the train station and began to talk, he had a wonderful voice, like Sean Connery, the Scottish actor who played James Bond. He was very well spoken and quite obviously knowledgeable. He was just under 6ft Tall and had dark hair, a nice face and beautiful dark brown eyes. He was quite chunky, good muscles and a great pair of legs. I knew this as he was wearing shorts, he was a few years older than me.

It was wonderful to listen to him and about an hour and a half later we had been sitting there and decided to walk together. As we walked we continued talking and when we reached a few roads from my home, we were both thirsty. I had £1 in my purse, enough for a drink in the local pub. He had run out of change with his telephone calls.
We laughed about it, walked up the road and into the garden of the pub, where I spent my last pound on a glass of coke with two straws. We sat in the beer garden and shared it and continued to talk, he was good at listening as well as talking and we seemed to get along very well. He explained that he would be going to Spain during the next week as he often spent time there with Family and Business.
After about four hours of talking with each other, it was time to leave. The afternoon was turning into evening and the pub was getting lively, he said he would walk me home. I only lived at the next corner. He asked for my telephone number and as we said Goodbye, I thought if he’s off to Spain, then that’s probably the last I’ll see of him then. I never expected anything else.

Meanwhile a week or so later, I met someone who asked me on a date, he was younger than me, which was a first and we began to spend time together, but it didn’t last long. He was just too young for me and it stopped being fun in no time at all. We dated for a couple of months and then I tried to let him down gently.
Unfortunately, when the time was up the boy didn’t want to leave and so used to sit outside my house in his car all night and hammer on the door in the early hours. He was being a bit of a pest and I kept letting him in to talk to me.

Later that Summer, there was a knock at the door. I had visitors and went down to the main door to answer it. The Man from the Post Office was back. I was shocked to see him. I told him I had visitors, so he couldn’t come in. He asked me on a date a few days later he would pick me up for lunch. I was really pleased that he had come back. I had enjoyed his company and thought I would again.

It struck me that I was not the usual type of girl he dated. I think that he liked girls who spoke better than I did, were a bit more refined and classy. What on earth would I wear to a proper date with him?
I looked like a scruffy secretary, in an oversized jacket I had borrowed and skirt, blouse and heels. I also was so nervous that I put on my posh voice, tried to pronounce everything properly and I did not want to show off.
He saw through it in an instant.
He took me out to lunch to a place some way away from where we lived. I hoped that this was not because someone might see us together. Previous relationships had made me a tad cynical. It was the place that my Grandparents had gone on their first date. We had a lovely meal and part of the way through it. He turned and said to me, “You don’t need to try so hard to impress me, we spoke for hours before and I like the real you.” He took me home after the long lunch with lots more talking and arranged to see me again.,

I had no idea how long it would last, if I was what he wanted or he was what I wanted, or where it would go from there, little did I know that we would be celebrating our anniversary twenty one years later, or that we would go through so much together and I would still be with him and still in Love with him.

The Daily Post -Together  Image:Morguefile.com

I Just Wanted to Thank You!

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Well, despite everything that has happened since the Good and Bad since I began this blog at the end of February this year I have now reached another one of my goals. Hooray! Another for the Yay list.

After setting up a list of Intentions – Things I want to do this year I have struggled to do so many of them, but goals are not easily achieved and I still have such a long way to go with them.  I am sure that many will appear in next year’s list too, but that is OK I have to remind myself that it isn’t supposed to all happen at once.

Yes, I have finally achieved the goal of 100 Followers here on WordPress.com and although I couldn’t quite believe it, I was met with the little red button to tell me this morning.

So I wanted to Thank you all for reading my blog, my poems, looking at my photographs over the past few months.  Sometimes my posts have been sporadic, with weeks apart when life gets in the way and I think I should write more.  I am grateful for the kindness which spurs me on when I am feeling low and the encouragements.  The Reader has become my substitute morning newspaper and I love reading what has been happening in the world.

I am grateful for the people who have chosen to follow, me and comment upon what I write. For the ones who have come like friends you look out for to see what they have been up to and who you miss when you don’t hear from them.

My Thanks go to Travelling Krishnaite – Shekhar Srivastava the 100th person to follow my Blog, for making my milestone and helping me to achieve a goal. Why not click the link stop by and take a look at the blog, give the posts a like or a comment.

Image: Morguefile.com

The art of holding it together…. Or keeping calm in a crisis.

I don’t know what it is, but since I was a teenager and someone walked calmly up to our front door with a two foot long knife inside his jacket and pointed it at me when I opened the front door with my 18 month old sister around my legs, I have seemed to have remained calm in a crisis. It was my first experience of the police.

My Dad had just gone to get his toolbox out of the car for the night and was tidying his car up on the driveway, when there was a knock at the door. I was thirteen years old. I opened the door. A man was standing there, his knife pointing towards my stomach. I looked down at it and calmly told my little sister to go indoors, pushing her away before she could see what was happening. He asked me if there was a lady here, I do not recall her name. I told him that he was mistaken and he had the wrong address, he then asked for my neighbour’s Geoff and Anne by name. My father walking back down the pathway brightly said, “No, they live next door”. The man Thanked him and putting the knife back out of sight under his jacket he turned to walk past my Dad on the pathway, he was not ranting or shouting at this point. My Dad came inside and the next thing we heard from the adjoining hallway, was an almighty crash as he smashed his way through next door’s front door glass, to let himself in, there was a scream, then another then children began to cry and he yelled that he was going to kill the bitch….

Our telephone was in the hallway at the time and I grabbed it and called 999, explaining what was happening and they should get someone there quickly. I then explained what he had done at our doorstep. I didn’t know if he had actually managed to get to her, but he was inside the house.

Police arrived on the scene and disarmed him, the family next door along with their friend had locked themselves in the bathroom I think, while he went on the rampage.
Later the police came to me and took a statement, they told me that I had been very brave not to have screamed and had acted very calmly. It was a huge risk to take but as I explained my prime consideration was to protect and not to alarm my younger sister at my side, so I had to remain calm. I also did not want him to know exactly where the lady was that he was looking for. In truth I couldn’t scream if I had wanted to, a consequence of previous childhood trauma.

I think this experience gave me the ability to take things in my stride when they are happening. From then on, when faced with a situation, an accident or altercation, I handle it at the time as though somehow detached from out as an observer. I am able to deal with it calmly and effectively and retain the ability to keep it together when others might not be able to. Afterwards is when it hits me, some might have a stiff drink at this point, I do not. It just seeps in, I shake for a while try to figure it out and if I acted in the best way and then calm down. Only many years later , after receiving counselling for Trauma and opening up to my counsellor about things, have I start to question what happens to the body and mind after such trauma. You know, when the shock kicks in after everything has calmed down and you are alone with your thoughts. I find myself asking, if only there was a way to conquer that down time so that I do not then become a gibbering shaking wreckage of whatever has happened. I berate myself for not being strong enough to handle it.

Yesterday, after threat upon threat of the past few weeks and a couple of attempts on my partner’s life, our psychotic neighbour who has threatened both my partner and I in the past few weeks, decided to carry out his threat upon me. Being a friendly and approachable person in the community, who has worked voluntarily to get things done with the local authority has its drawbacks. You might wonder how a passing Hello to a friendly neighbourhood PCSO or visiting Councillor and members of the local authority would make you a police officer and a grass, by association this might be a little far fetched. But then if you throw a violent paranoid schizophrenic into the mix, who does not take his medication on time, drinks alcohol and whose paranoia and habits are being fed by the drug dealer next door it all starts to make a little bit more sense as to someone like that this deluded outlook on things might seem real. Unfortunately, what has happened IS very real.
So, having yelled out across the street the day before to my partner that “she was going to get it” and that he was going to kill both of us. In the past fortnight when these threats have escalated to a now daily occurrence, combined with terrorising us with motorbikes, threatening behaviour with weapons and other abuse. I have been rather nervous to go out alone and have stayed inside, barely venturing into the front garden, which is crying out for some attention. But since I had a Drs appointment yesterday morning I did just that, in a bid for freedom and a short time away from this madness I went out in the car. I was alright once I was away from the house, but drove with the windows barely open and the doors locked, just in case he followed me on any of his motorbikes.

When I returned later in the afternoon, I was told that for several hours he had been circling up and down outside the house, revving the machines up to a deafening volume, whilst his mother, (his principal carer) and a social worker were waiting outside with a video camera at the ready  for my partner to confront him, so that they could get any altercation on film. Thankfully, despite it all my partner saw it was an ambush and stayed inside and their plan was foiled, although several of the other neighbours were alarmed he almost ran one of them over with her dog and she rushed back inside, others came outside to observe and later said that it was a terrible row. Clearly none decided to call the police though. Later on in the early evening, my partner was speaking to some of the neighbours on the pathway in the front garden and once they had left went to come back inside. As he did so the man from over the road was shouting again, had begun to walk out of his gate and across the grass stepping on to the road, he was holding what could only be a knife. It was small like a kitchen knife, but I clearly saw the light glint on the blade. My partner called me and asked if I had my mobile and could take a photo since he had a knife, I said it wouldn’t come out from that distance, but I held up the mobile as though to take a photo, which seemed to put him off and he tucked it into his pocket and walked back towards his gate. He yelled again that he was going to kill me. For a moment, we stood there and looked at him. He then headed back across the road again and I asked my partner to come inside quickly.

We were actually considering going out for a walk to calm down. But I asked, what if he came back? My partner told me to call the police. I dialled 999 and called them explaining what had happened and they said they were sending someone. 45 minutes later a tactical squad turned up to arrest him as we were waiting, it occurred to me that had we not seen him coming and he had been able to carry out his threat then we would have been dead. I thought that he was in the house, but it turned out that he had slipped out whilst I was not looking out of the window. We think he may have hidden out in his next door neighbours house.

The Squad which came tried to get in, and eventually got the neighbour to let them in and searched the place, since they did not find him and we all believed that he was out on one of his motorbikes, they asked me to call them if we saw him return. Lo and behold within 5 minutes he was back. My partner had just gone to lock the front gate after the police had left and saw him skulking around the front garden and heading back across the road again towards our place again with his shiny knife. He virtually ran back inside telling me to call 999 again NOW! I did so and 15 minutes later the squad returned and arrested him, searched his house and took him away. At just before 1am officers came to take a statement from me until 2.30am this morning. They asked if I would attend court to give evidence against him. I said yes, since he has already decided I was the problem and it was personal I have a duty to see it through to justice. So that he will not be able to do it to someone else. To destroy, or maim or kill someone else’s life as he has tried to with ours.  I was hopeful of some sleep knowing that he was safely locked up and could not harm us.

Sleep was fitful, this morning I am shaking and a little jumpy. The aftermath of an actual attempt upon my life, a threat made time and again in the past few weeks which he intended to carry out. The reality that it was not just threats. That actually has been planning, waiting for his moment. I have seen him plotting it, as though the cogs of his evil mind are on view, you can almost tell what he is thinking and I have learned to follow my gut instinct, whenever in the past few weeks I have sensed that he is about to do something, it has not let me down. I am on constant alert and aware. I told the Dr what had been happening lately, she was horrified and told me to keep calling the police. I do not want to take the pills which my Doctor prescribed for acute anxiety yesterday morning, as I do not want to miss any of the signals, it is my only way of protecting us, to keep my wits about me. Yes I am afraid to go out alone until this man is brought under control and kept secure, I hope that they also find time to deal with the puppet master who pulls his strings. Meanwhile, my partner is watching my back and I am watching his. My gut instinct has kept us here for the past few weeks and long may it continue to do so.

I cannot brush this under the carpet. I felt the need to write about it, I can’t keep it coped up in my head. This is my cling mechanism. It will stop me falling apart when it’s all too much.

The Daily Post – Crisis

Unsuitable Shoes and Walking Barefoot

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It never ceases to amaze me that the oddest things return to my memory. This afternoon I am thinking of unsuitable shoes. Or specifically unsuitable shoes for the office scenario, now it could have been an article about the office and the delights of working from home which I read earlier. https://tomhocknell.wordpress.com/2016/06/27/how-to-work-in-an-office-a-guide/
Which I thought was great, but something crept back into my subconscious and reminded me of a job I undertook a couple of years ago as a Lettings agent. I had turned my foot and did not know at the time that I had fractured one of the bones in it.

All that I knew was that I was limping, in pain and shoes were uncomfortable. It was part of the new job that I was required to be on my feet a lot and walking around the locality showing people houses. It was also the middle of summer a heatwave and having just been in the job a few days, had to rely upon my existing wardrobe capabilities.
That was when my boss mentioned it, that I should “rethink my footwear for work and find something a bit more business like for the office”. Funnily enough I didn’t think that plain black open toed sandals with a low heel would be an issue. But he obviously did, they weren’t dressy enough. I made the mistake of wearing high heels for my interview, which I fell off of getting out of the car and was in agony when I walked the short distance to the office. But having been offered the job at the time I did not want to walk to my car, drive it half a mile to an appointment then drive it back, by the time I had returned not only would the car be driving appallingly, but it would take twice as long for each appointment. Also some of the properties which I had to attend, I was not happy to leave my car anywhere near. The area was not exactly salubrious.

But, I did think that it was a strange thing to mention. Now if I had turned up in a T-shirt and jeans where I was required to wear a suit, I could have understood it. Perhaps it was that the guys in the office had to wear suits and shoes for work, but my shoes were no more offensive than the other girls, although the heels were not as high.
I did explain that I may have broken my foot and normal service would be resumed once it had healed.

But today this got me thinking again, that actually I do have an odd assortment of shoes, in bright colours. I have always had a creative colour scheme when it comes to footwear, but obviously toned it down for the office environment where you are expected to wear business attire. I was rather spoiled for this where I worked previously with a load of creatives and there was no dress code, other than smart casual, so anything went really, except that when I wore read shoes someone complained, he didn’t like the colour. It wasn’t just limited to clothing and footwear though and he was rather out of luck since my car was also red at the time. I may as well have just said, don’t look in my direction then. Oh those were the days…
So here I am reminiscing about such a time and grateful for the moment that my writing from home means that I can wear exactly what I want, when I want. Oh it’s going to be tough when I have to return to a workplace in so many ways. Meanwhile, I will wear blue suede shoes, pink nubuck, red leather, jade trainers, denim mules or my favourite old flip flops or suede fur lined boots on cold days and thoroughly enjoy the freedom that I currently have, on the days when I don’t have to dress for an occasion of course.

Or I shall even continue to be barefoot as I have throughout most of the summer months? I find that there is somehow less strain on the feet, less leg cramp in the night and I am calmer when barefoot around the house and garden.  A bit more grounded and comfortable in my surroundings, even when stressed out. I have not extended this to walking out in public, no further than the garden like this although I know there are many people who are able to do so, but I found this great graphic which reminded me of many of the benefits of being barefoot, it’s a short-lived Summer fancy though, since in the winter it is one of the first of my body parts to feel the cold.

 

Photograph Credit – Facebook David Avocado Wolfe

Missed Chances of a Highland Summer

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Should I have applied for the job travelling Scotland in a Visit Scotland campervan?

Missed chances eh? It’s not as bad as it seems, I may have been able to pay the bills at home. Slept in the Scottish countryside and possibly, just possibly taken my furry assistant along for the ride.

It would have meant that my partner would have had to fend for himself until I could get back there and who knows what sort of bother he could have got himself into in the meantime.  We could have stayed up on the hill at weekends and worked myself on the house trying to get things done, but in reality I have not been in  a position to do that for the past few months, which I guess is what held me back in the first place.

Sure, I would have met tonnes of people at events all over the country, seen a lot more of my beloved Scottish countryside in the summer months, the best time of year, braved terrain and nights not quite on my own.

Ahh yes, those missed chances for a different life and summer to the one we have been experiencing.  Is the grass greener? Ask the Coos, (for the uninitiated, those are the highland ones)

Visit Scotland – Thanks I’d love to have done.  I hope that I will again so very soon, for I am missing it more than you know.

And so the Highland Summer was not to be, A Summer far different from everything that I had ever imagined. It began quite well with promise of a brighter future for all of us, with hope and anticipation. The sun was shining on our skin, the weather was good and the garden flourished. Then it was shattered, broken and will remain in our memories as probably the worst we have ever experienced in all our years together.  Our family is smaller, our bodies weary and our hearts heavy.

Our hope that with the onset of Autumn at our doorstep and as the leaves begin to go brown and drop across the gardens and countryside. That it brings Good with it on the winds that have begun to blow, that it sets us on the right path towards Happiness once again and that our luck turns for the better.

The Daily Post – Mistake

The Teddy Parcel

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The Teddy Parcel.

A knock was at the door today, A man was standing there.
He called, “He’s home and here to stay, I’ve brought your Little Bear”.
The most precious teddy parcel, he placed there in our hand.
Have fought to try to explain it, but they don’t really understand.
It is so very important, than we should bring him home.
For he was never happy, when he was left alone.
Wanted him back with his Mummy and his Dad.
Safely with our family, our furry little lad.
I clutched the teddy parcel and held it to my chest.
We cuddled as a family, the one we loved the best.
Put the kettle on and poured our favourite drink,
Brought it with your biscuit and didn’t stop to think.
We gathered up your blanket and put it in the sun,
As we talked some more about you and where you used to run.
Now although we cannot touch you, since you’re resting in the box,
The fact that you’re now with us helps, the pain it often blocks.
As you are in our hearts and always on our mind,
The memories we will cherish and the fur we’ll often find.
We’re watching and just hoping, that when you’re ready and in time
You’ll show you’re thinking of us and then send to us a sign.
So I will look for butterflies and feathers on the breeze,
And look out for you to smile at me and bless me when I sneeze.

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The Daily Post – Longing

Patterns & Textures #5 The Notebooks

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Notebook Covers, from my selection…

As I look for inspiration in brightly coloured things around me, a great texture to hold, fabrics which cheer the mood and brighten the eye.  These are just a selection, either in use or waiting, vying for my attention, to be the next best thing, to hold the next best story that I write, or poem.  These are not just a place for the shopping or to do lists. Oh no, not these ones, they are special. These are for snippets, plans, hopes and dreams and excitement that might be on it’s way.

Wanting More

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This is in thought and Tribute to our beloved furry son, who we lost a month ago today.  We miss him every moment of every day and if there is a Rainbow Bridge that animals cross over. I hope that I will see him there in more than just my dreams. This is for Our Best Boy, who has left such a huge hole in our lives, which he filled with such love for us both.

Wanting More…

As you walked towards the doorway, your head pressed in my hand.
Try as I might I wanted to, but didn’t understand.
All the sadness you were feeling, was right there in your eyes,
To make you feel better in less pain, we tried and tried and tried.
I wanted to right there and then, just take away your pain.
But hold you close to me and not let you go again.

They told us you were poorly and that it was for the best.
So we sat and told you stories, whilst we laid there for a rest.
Your dad was right there with you, he took you for a walk.
He choked back oh so many tears he couldn’t even talk.
And when your time had passed and you laid upon the floor.
I cried and hugged for hours and wished I’d done much more.
So as I crave a moment, that you’ll put your paw in mine.
I hope that you’ll return to me and that you’ll find the time.

You see there’s not a moment, of each day that passes by,
When I do not stop and think of you and gaze up to the sky.
You see it’s where we look for Angels and listen for a sigh,
Just like you used to do, as time went slowly by.

To look into your eyes again, and filled with love for sure.
I wanted to do that once again I always wanted more.
But Nature’s cruelness once again, away from me she’d send.
The one who’d been there at my side, my dear and furry friend.

Has been a little while now and I thought my heart would break,
As thoughts of you return to me, each time that I awake.
They say that over time, we will repair and start to heal.
But such love and dedication, many cannot hope to feel.
You were so very special and grabbed hold of my heart,
Hook, Line and sinker Darling, I was yours right from the start.

You Wouldn’t Believe It if I Told You…

You wouldn’t believe it if I told you…

For the last month I have had a fantastical life, full of amazing things. Having spoken to several of my friends, most feel that they could not have coped with just one of the many things that Life has chosen to throw at us as a family. I would not wish any of them upon anyone else.

As I write this, part of me cannot quite believe that it has been only 5 weeks since all this began. It seems to have been an endless onslaught sent to try us and that we are still fighting, the reality is that it started long ago and I don’t know exactly when and just stepped up a gear in the past few weeks.

During this time, I have been trying to hold it together and although I wanted to write (so much), I have done little more than write my diary, sometimes there is just not enough room in there. I have also written a few poems. But the ones I wanted to write have not come to me, I am holding them back somehow. One will be difficult as it will be going onto a memorial and I need to keep it short and get it just right. But I have felt that as I look back through my writings, I may not want to be reminded of just how dark and painful the past few weeks have been and have at times wondered whether I will be coming out of it at the end.

Our little world, which is at times cozy, (but not very often) has been torn open. Not apart, you must understand, for we have been trying to remain strong and united together through it all. I think it might have been easier if I had been able to lock myself away until it had all gone away again, or calmed down, or at least I could learn to deal with it perhaps in my own way. Instead, it has been there in my face, like a two year old’s tantrum forcing me to deal with it there and then. Because someone else has needed my immediate help to get through it too, it has opened old wounds, laid bare things that have been buried for such a long time and renewed grief which has not healed. So I am seriously outside of my comfort zone and I have been tested like never before. Not just I, you understand but Life as I know it. For it has been torn open, ripped out and scattered all over the floor, there for the dissection of others and their judgement. It has been impossible to distance myself from or look at things logically, when there seems to be no logic. People that we know and love, who have claimed to be there for us, have been hurtful with their words and failed to understand and we are left feeling very isolated. In the aftermath of such torrents of words, isolated is the safest place. We will come out of it fighting and despite the attempts, it hasn’t killed us yet. Life has been reaping a whirlwind in our direction. No, actually although I have been fortunate enough not to be caught up in a Twister of the natural kind, it is exactly how I imagine it to be. Where life as you know it and all of the things that you love and surround you are swept up in front of your eyes and thrown for miles scattered everywhere and life as you know it suddenly changes completely, beyond recognition. But people can come back from Twister’s don’t they? They don’t all die do they? But their lives change immeasurably after such an event.

So as I write this I realise that we have been going through our very own Twister. But that because I am one of those people who believes in positive thinking, I do think that we will be able to get through it and in time rebuild our lives. Maybe this is the drastic shake up of everything in our lives and we need to make and change in such a massive way that has to start now. Life is not the same. We have loved, lost, been broken, been betrayed. In the past five weeks, I have almost lost my life partner after an attack where the man cannot be charged, due to his mental illness, which has in recent months been fuelled by additional drugs supplied by a new neighbour. I have also suffered a physical attack which has left me needing hospital treatment and afterwards scarred and devastated. But I am healing, more quickly on the outside than inside. We have lost our beloved furry son, at the young age of five years old to what we thought was a sudden illness and tumours, to be told that this may have been brought on by poisoning by a neighbour. Three people have since intimated that they knew he has done this before. Our darling boy is gone forever and our family has been damaged by grief and the actions of some, who when we needed their emotional support they turned on us with words. Things said I would hope, only in the heat of the moment. For if it was said with prior thought it is even more painful to deal with the hurt that it caused. Emotions run high in grief and if they speak their minds and choose then to speak with vitriol, how do you come back from something so devastating? We have had threats of criminal damage against our property and homes and are being tormented by the people that wish to carry out such threats and attempts constantly, the authorities are involved but the wheels of justice grind slowly. Attempts on a life which has spent years helping others within the local community, only to be turned on by people considered a vulnerable by the authorities due to the substance abuse they have inflicted upon themselves, in calculated and premeditated attempts, which have us not wanting to leave the sanctity of our home.

But they will not win. We are still living and breathing and fighting day by day. The ones whom I hold dear to me are either gone or left in pieces, which need rebuilding. I have to believe that this is truly rock bottom and we have reached it. We have been at breaking point time and again and it is time to turn this around. Simply because I refuse to accept any more bad luck, misery and misfortune to come our way. Whoever is sending it, can have it right back, tenfold and Yes, that goes against the grain, but if someone is sending it, then it’s already out there and I don’t want it. I do believe in Magic, good and bad and also that Love conquers all after all, Love is Stronger than Hate.

Time heals. I just wish that it would get a move on!
There are big decisions which we are making which will affect our future, the way that we do things, where we may live, how we will cope with things and what is left of us at the end of it all. Meanwhile, it is my duty to protect what we have, both spiritually, emotionally and physically wherever I can. If you are united and working together to fix something, then it is stronger, we will become impenetrable. We will rebuild our walls and be very careful who we let inside, more caution is needed.

I don’t know what the future holds for us, I hope that the happiness and laughter returns. That we will create a fulfilling and happy life, full of love and as we reach our twenty first anniversary in a couple of weeks from now. I am sure that we will make it and past that to enjoy many more years together.
They have tried to break us but did not succeed, we are stronger than that. We are together for a reason, or even several and as you know, I LOVE a reason.

 

The Daily Post – Complicated