Well, so much for my plan to write here on a daily basis this month ; I think it’s fair to say that I have missed that target.
Today is Mother’s day and I have had a pleasant one, spent with my son and youngest daughter and her family. My home is looking bright with all the flowers and cards and I am feeling blessed.
It all started with a strand of hair, that was the first clue although she hadn’t realised it at the time. A long strand of copper red hair, she had only noticed it because the colour was so striking.
She sat amongst the piles of boxes, the removal men had dumped them all in one room and she didn’t know where to start with the unpacking. Stupidly she hadn’t thought to label them either, so it was going to be pot luck.
I’ll start with a big one she thought; inside it she found cutlery pans and crockery which were quickly despatched to the kitchen. Next she decided that it would be best to just open them all first so that she could see the contents before proceeding any further.
With all the boxes opened and some of their contents lifted out to see what was underneath she suddenly felt overwhelmed. The tears filled her eyes and her head was full of a haze of memories.
She remembered the day that he had come home with that strand of hair on his jacket, it was the day after the seminar when he stayed overnight in London but she hadn’t attached any significance to it then she remembered the crumpled note that she had removed from his trouser pocket a few weeks later.
Scribbled letters E.V.E. and a mobile number “do you need this? she asked and held it out for him to see. He hesitated for a moment and then said “oh I’m not sure what it is but it can’t have been important if it was still in my pocket, just throw it away.
Throw it away, throw it away, throw it away the words whirled around in her mind.
So, today is the first of March 2026. It is the first day of my last month of being sixty something. It is also the twentieth anniversary of this blog.
The original version of the blog was on Blog. Co.UK and it survived there for 10 years until the server was closed and I transferred some of the content here.
Month one, I was counting down to my fiftieth birthday by writing a post a day. I have occasionally looked back at some of my writing, to find some of it amused me; the general tone was light hearted chit chat which some people might call a waste of time (to say the least) but I enjoyed doing it, so it was worthwhile to me.
I am thinking of repeating the process, as I once again count down to the end of another decade of my life.
Twenty years is a long time, a lot has changed for me, but some things do remain the same. I think I will come back to this topic tomorrow, a little reflection on change may be interesting.
One last thing for today is to pay homage to my dear sister (Isa) Dora, who was called to heaven on this date 16 years ago. She was the one who encouraged me to start a blog. If anyone reading this remembers her blog at Blog. C. U. K, you won’t need reminding what a vibrant, unique and beautiful soul she was. I still miss her presence in my life so much. 😪
This morning, as I was waking, I felt the empty space beside me in the King size bed.
Where is my husband? was the first thought, then; maybe he came in late and got into the spare bed, followed by, but I haven’t actually seen him around the house recently. Did he go away for a few days working or with the lads?
The thoughts dragged through the murk of my still sleepy mind. It was more of a feeling than a thought, when I remembered that I live alone now. No husband, he died more than three years ago, no dogs, they also have passed away.
This morning, my mind tried to turn back time; It reminded me of what I’ve lost.
I’m looking for my lost loves.
Where are you?
I have many clocks
They are displayed all around the house
Large clocks, small clocks
Adorning walls and shelves
Some are digital and silent
Like the one on the screen of my phone
Others, analogue, tick, tick. tick, tock
They proudly announce
I am a clock, I mark time
I don’t know why I have so many clocks
But I think we have that in common
I mark time too, my lifeline
It is measured in heartbeats, pulse and breaths
There are points at which time seems to stop
Events around which time becomes
Before and After
Events that change life and time forever.
My heart still beats, pulse can be detected, breath enters and leaves my body
Nothing else is the same, nor will it ever be, nor would I want it to be
My mind knows about before and after
It knows that neither the clicks or my desire can turn back time. It can never be “before” again.
Squares on the calendar are ticked off
The days come and then they go
Weeks and months consigned to the past
But still, they belong to After.
Today’s square on the calendar marks three years of “after you” but my mind and heart are still back there.
Three years of after haven’t diminished the feelings of loss that I carry with me.
I will keep marking time for as long as my heart keeps beating and breath enters and leaves my body
You will go with me into the after
My love remains the same.
List 30 things that make you happy.
List thirty things that make you happy said the prompt, well I have to say, that sounds quite challenging but I’m not going to let myself be distracted by a number. Surely there must be hundreds of little things that make me happy even if it’s only momentarily. Okay, here goes:
1 Sunshine 🌞
2 My garden
3 Trees
4 My Family
5 Friends
6 Reading
7 Walking
8 Singing
9 Days out
10 Holidays
11 Dogs
12 Spa visits
13 pretty things (ornaments)
14 Coffee
15 Sleeping 😴
16 Flowers
17 my car
18 Theatre
19 Eating out
20 Blue sky 💙
21 comfortable footwear
22 Finding a bargain
23 writing ✍️
24 having a back massage
25 learning
26 nice scents
27 having a haircut
28 Warm relaxing baths
29 winning a darts match
30 Chocolate
Well I managed it however it did take a bit of thinking about, I think doing this exercise has highlighted that it is often the every day things that align to make us happy.
How would you describe yourself to someone who can’t see you?
In response to a prompt and in an effort to learn how to post here.
A visual description of myself is: an aging lady of short stature who is marginally overweight. Fair skin, greyish blue eyes, bitten nails, fair skin with some freckles, short hair, of a blonde, grey mix. Usually dressed casually in jeans or tracksuit trousers or shorts and t shirts.
Well, here I am again, after a prolonged absence, I return here with sadness in my heart and the weight of the world pressing down on me.
If any occasional reader should stumble across my words, I will explain; my husband of 46years passed away in April. I am finding this hard to come to terms with and grief is making me ill.
I don’t know why I’m writing this, hoping for some sort of cathartic miracle to lift my spirit, but it won’t come. I know I will have to continue to fight the brain fog and the feeling of wading through treacle for some time to come.
“It’s early days” is what people say when I tell them how bad I feel. I know this is true, but his absence is like a deep chasm that I am in danger of falling into.
I don’t want to be the grieving widow who can’t accept that their other half has gone forever and becomes a martyr to his memory. I need to survive and eventually thrive; it is what he would wish and expect of me.
The idea of being “I” instead of “we” is a difficult prospect. Being an only parent to my adult children, whose grief at the loss of their father is painful to me. To fulfill the role of Grandad as well as Grandma, to keep my man alive to the young children who have been deprived of his presence, feels like too big a challenge.
I try not to keep replaying the day that he passed in my mind, or the weeks before, when the simple act of breathing was becoming so difficult for him and the efforts of his diseased lungs inadequate. I realise now that he hid a lot of his discomfort from me. I wasn’t prepared or even aware that his life’s journey was going to come to an end so soon.
The funeral was a memorable day, the church was full to overflowing, my husband was a well loved and well known man to whom so many people wished to pay their respects. I think everyone agreed that we gave him a good send off. My eldest daughter read a poem, my son sang a song and I wrote the eulogy (which the vicar read out for me) so there was plenty of personal input to the farewell service. Some people refer to funerals as a celebration of a person’s life, but I can’t think of it like that. For me it is the day when you have to say the last goodbye to the mortal remains of a loved one and I can’t connect the word “celebrate” with that. Their spirit after all has already gone before. On this occasion, a full four weeks before, this is the time we had to wait.
I think I’ve said enough here for now, maybe I will write more about my thoughts and feelings another day.
Adios for now my old friend, “blog”
Why does everything have to be so complicated 😕
I have been trying to get a ” covid pass” today, from the NHS App to cover a visit I will be making this weekend.
The stupid thing has issued one that is only valid until 11.36am on Friday, which is useless to me.
I have been trying to get help with this and apparently this happens when you haven’t fully verified yourself. So I go back to try to do that and it won’t let me, says if I don’t see a particular message (which I don’t ) then I’m already verified.
Oh lord give me strength and patience, my head is about to explode! This is making what should be a pleasant event into a stressful thing.
I’m done in with this carry on and I won’t be able to attend/go on my trip without the sodding pass.
Apart from having had Covid illness last year, I’ve had two jabs and a booster.
Rant over,
if you read it – all I can say is you were warned (in the title of this post) and thanks for humouring me.
marikasunseeker 