Category: Facebook

Some people ask why I blog. Since I joined the PC groups I have had support, advice, humour and love. I began my story from my perspective, to show how the wife or partner, of a man with Prostate cancer is affected by this horrid disease. It isn’t my husbands journey, it is mine and because PC does not come in isolation as I have said before, I write about my life, as it happens, including aspects of it, that have either added difficulties or pleasures during this painful scary time. On the PC groups I joined, I have read stories of great strength and courage and some of great heartache. My blog went down well, right from the start and I am grateful to everyone who either liked, commented, shared or pm’d me about any of the blogs posted. I read other members stories in their own blogs, sometimes they are difficult to read, painful and very personal as are my own. I write honestly and openly for those who are interested in how this disease can affect the care giver as well as the sufferer. Because I believe in the merits of writing down and sharing your inner, most feelings, it does not mean others have to read it. In my case,you will know it is a blog and those familiar with my kind of writing will understand that I write with no holds barred. Writing can help make sense of things, clarify how I really feel; I tell in my writing, things I know will be read by those I am no longer able to see. Because I only ever tell the truth, I have nothing to hide, it might one day, reach those meant to hear what I say, they may not always like it but I have no choice, this is the only way I can do that. It is their choice whether to read it or scroll by.

As I have said many times, PC does not come in isolation. It barges into your life regardless of problems or pain that are already there. It doesn’t differentiate if a person’s life is easy, hard or just plain difficult already. We all have ‘other stuff’ going on. All have family issues, work issues, in our lives that cause stress, pain or sadness. PC still comes and hits us in a huge overpowering manner. When I began this blog a few years ago, when David, my husband was being checked for PC as his PSA was high, life had already dealt me and my family blow after blow as I have said in earlier blogs. So nothing new. I promised from the start, to tell it as it was. Honestly, openly missing nothing out. Others have written and told me of their own personal struggles with their husband’s diagnosis and other things they are trying to cope with at the same time as this illness. It is always encouraging to find you are not alone that others also can be overwhelmed by their lives. That it isn’t just you. Some of these lovely people have become friends. I promised to tell it as it is, wart’s ‘n all and have and will continue to do so.  Taking this in mind, please remember this is from the wife of a PC sufferer, my perspective: also from a mother, a health professional and sometimes, from the me, who is today, feeling a confused, overwhelmed little girl.

It’s been a very strange week. I think I have experienced every single emotion known to man. Sometimes all at the same time it feels. One year since David had surgery to remove his diseased Prostate. What a year it has been, documented in every detail, emotion and thought in my weekly blog on here. The range of emotions that visited me is huge. Fear and anger being the strongest in equal measure. This time last year we were in the after math of the surgery, catheter in place and a very weak but resolute husband having to allow me to help him. It is usually the other way round where health issues are concerned. We have had more hospital and GP appointments for David than he had in the previous 40 years. His last PSA result was undetectable and the Consultant says he does not expect any recurrence as the cancer with a little ‘c’ was non aggressive. So one year on we have reason to celebrate. That brings the happy. The emotion we have seen little of but knowing this elated both of us and we began to look ahead to a future we had not been sure we had.

But the happy is tinged with sad, angry, frustration and the ‘F’ word, this time not for me.

Today saw me opening a box of my brother Tony’s mementos,  that his daughter had kindly sent me. This was so sad, so hard and painful, that although I have had it a few days, I only opened it properly today. The things he had kept warmed my heart. Photos of us together as children, cuttings from newspapers of my first book being published, little gifts I had sent him over the years, not everything but those that had obviously meant something to him and a little silver pill-box engraved from me to him ‘with love’ given to him in 1966 when he gave me away at my first wedding. He had kept these things for years, that felt good. Showed me that our love was strong and shared. I can’t begin the grieving process, not ready to let go. Never seems to be the right time to sit and allow my feelings, my tears to come and so they are on hold. I am hurting beyond hurt but can’t seem to allow it to come. Too much else happening maybe, I don’t know.

As a family we are still affected by the loss  of our lovely little pony, last week. But like the grief for my brother this has been put aside for another time. Because of losing her, Tammy, Oberon’s companion, we had to find a new stable mate straight away or he would have gone downhill and as he is in his 40’s we couldn’t risk that. A ‘happy’ is that he now shares his field etc. with Seva Gigi, his new companion.

You would think that was enough but that is not how it seems to happen of late, never one thing at a time. When we arrived home after our visit to Portsmouth, we found our youngest daughter Marie to be very unwell and as the illness may be ongoing,we have had to organize our home, to allow Marie’s family to return here.  Her health has not been good on and off for years but this time she was in so much pain, she has not been able to take care of her horses, the project she had begun and do the travelling involved. So when they asked if they could come back here to live for a while, we of course agreed. So we have been working hard for that to happen. Buying  a touring van and making the static home, work still in progress, fit  to accommodate her, her husband and 5 cats. Build stables to allow her to move her 3 horses to us and everything this needs to make it happen. It has been full on and hard work but her health is important and we willingly will help her as any parent would. The emotions around this, sadness for her, fear for her health, worry at how we were going to cope and  stress around the whole thing, has diverted my thinking for a while, giving me a diversion for the real big issues that have happened in this past week.

During the last year as those who are familiar with my blog know, we have been facing the death of my beloved brother. Sadly this ended on January 4th this year. Leaving us devastated and heartbroken. Throughout the past year, he has been trying to come to terms with the betrayal of our youngest sister Trisha and my eldest daughter Lisa, who both took advantage of him in his frailty. This resulted in a court case that happened last Thursday. After my blog last week I received an email from my daughter Lisa, telling me not to mention her name ever. I refused. In the past I have covered for her, let her get away with things she did to me and I am afraid that maybe this has lulled her into a false sense of right and wrong. Maybe she feels she can do these things and suffer no consequence, I don’t know. But hate to think I contributed in any way, in her ability to hurt those who trusted her. Hurting Tony and making his last year so hard and unhappy was cruel. She and my sister could have stopped all of this months ago.

During Lisa emailing me, I tried hard to encourage her to go to the court and if she really believed she was innocent, to tell the judge and if not believed, to offer to pay back what she owed. She refused. It was breaking my heart, writing email after email and getting back refusal to do the right thing or to go to court. I owe her nothing, unconditional love has been tried out of existence by my own daughter. I do love her, I will always love her but can’t condone what has happened. She has hurt me beyond pain over the years, lied to me, lied about me and caused me so much hurt but I still wanted to try to save her from the courts. Her last email was ‘softer’ than the way they began , she admitted to hurting me but no sign of a sorry. I so wanted her to say that and or, to go and plead her innocence if that is what she truly believed she was. She refused. Now she is a position I am sure that is scaring her and she will need support to survive it, I only hope she has that support. Not by her son bullying Tony’s family or making threats but by doing what is right, in any way that she can, to avoid even more punishment coming down on her head. I am scared for her and her future but can do nothing. The woman she ‘replaced’ me with has caused all of this as I said she would. There is no joy in knowing that.

I had warned my daughter a few years ago not to trust Trisha, my sister and said that when the going got tough or if things didn’t go Trisha’s way, she would walk away from Lisa without a thought. That she would come into her life as she had done, just to hurt me, trample all over it by pretending to care and then walk out when it suited her. All of that has happened but the worst thing is that although it was my sister and her boyfriend Ben, who instigated the whole thing against my brother, because they changed their first statements, even though they had said one thing in the first statement, changed it to say it happened as my brother had said, on Thursday, exonerating Tony; they dropped my daughter in it,right it up to her neck. I read the statements, and although I was not party to the events leading up to this, my brother had told me what happened last year and as he had never ever lied to me, I believe him. The statements from Ben and Trisha were full of lies, in parts as I did know they did not happen. The judge must have seen them for what they were but could only act on what was presented on Thursday. Lisa now has to bear the brunt of everything. Don’t get me wrong, she obviously needs to be punished for her wrong doing but she does not deserve to be the only one and the others walk away laughing as I know they will. All 3 of them should have had to pay and only my daughter will. But I believe in Karma and if that doesn’t happen, I will take the steps I wanted to take back a couple of years, when Trisha lied to Harper Collins my publisher and lost me my contract. Although the publisher knew they were lying, her and Lisa, they were afraid of litigation and so I lost out. I put this right but my daughter knew how important my book was to me, the years of pain writing it and telling of my childhood abuse was one of the most difficult things I had ever done. My book helped so many. It broke my heart to lose it until I was able to have it republished. I will in time, take steps to make sure my sister pays in some way. Angry doesn’t get close.

So many emotions, so much feeling and confusion within my thoughts.

Ecstatic that a year ago surgery saved my wonderful husband’s life.

Sad at the loss of a pony.

Devastation still, on the loss of my brother and friend.

Happy and sad that Marie is coming back to live ‘here on the farm’.

Scared for Lisa and my grandchildren and more angry than I would have thought possible that Ben Spillet and Trisha-Anne Hopkins have walked away without being punished for the crime they committed, the worry and hurt they caused Tony and his family and for the pain they have caused me.

As the picture above says, happy and sad and confused as to how that can be.

Thankyou for reading. x

 

 

A great deal has happened, here ‘on the farm’, this past week and I wanted so much to share it with the other man in my life, Tony, my brother. But I can’t. I will never be able to talk to him again and I can’t come to terms with that. I am functioning on a level not familiar to me and coping as best I can. I have actually picked up the phone and almost pressed his number, before being brought back to the reality. Tony has gone forever. I can’t cry. I want to and need to but I can’t. So here I am pouring out my feelings in the only safe way I know. Bear with me please. There is a happy, many in fact but today the sad is so strong I can almost touch it.

Last week, saying goodbye, was the hardest of my adult life and impinged on my childhood. As a little girl, as I have said before, life for me was dark, sad and scary, Tony was my bright star in the dark world I called home. He did things for me that the woman they called my mother should have done. He bathed by cuts, cuddled me out of pain, taught me what happens to girls as we grew up.  Yes, it was my brother who ‘rescued me’ when I began menstruating and thought I was dying. Not my mother, Tony. He loved me when he was allowed. Me? I spoiled him and waited on his every need. Tony was my hero. Having to accept that he was gone was so painful and I nearly didn’t do it.

I wasn’t going to go to Hampshire to say my goodbye, not only because it would make it real but because of how I might have been received by family. The past few years I had lost a major part of Tony’s family because of the lies and stories told to them, by my eldest daughter Lisa and my youngest sister Trisha. They had lied and maligned by name and involved family members who knew no better of me. So going back, into the family so to speak, was with trepidation. I had made things right with Tony’s daughter and granddaughter but not sure how I would be received by the extended family. I felt no concern as to the truth, I know the reality of my life but also know how convincing these two women, my daughter and sister, can be in their lies. I just wanted the day to go off perfectly as did Tony’s daughter. We were both worried that these two people who had caused the last year of my brother’s life to be filled with hurt, worry, and betrayal, would be disrespectful enough to attend his final goodbye. Although I knew in my heart that cowards don’t face people, the thought was still there. As the day grew closer and we hadn’t booked anywhere to stay, I remembered the horrors of another funeral where I was told not to attend and how everyone was so hurt by this. I had told Tony I would be there, so ‘be there’ had to happen.

I had been kept up to date about arrangements and looked forward to meeting with my niece and her daughters who had looked after their Dad and ‘Ampy’ so well. I had been asked to contribute to the service with little anecdotes of my life with my brother. Some of this was taken from a blog I wrote on here ‘What Tony Meant to me’, little stories, funny things that we ‘got up to’ or rather he ‘got me into’ and they brought a smile to the tear-stained faces on the day. The journey to Hampshire was horrific, we drove through wind and torrential rain and I prayed the weather would be kind to us on the day. On arriving at the crematorium, I was pleased to see so many people attending. I greeted the hearse carrying the man I had loved all of my life and his close family, with silent hugs and genuine emotions were exchanged between us. The casket had a union Jack, Tony’s marine green berry and his medals. Seeing the casket rendered me almost broken, in bits, and I struggled to hold on. David supported me and we went in to say goodbye to my big bear, my hero, my brother.

The service was a Humanist service and was conducted by a lovely man called Andy. The first piece of music was something I had found a copy of years ago, for Tony ‘ Il Silenzio, a bugler  from the Royal Marines played it . It was heartbreakingly beautiful. Brought the tears for everyone. The Eulogy from his son Steven was full of love, honesty and some happy. A friend who Tony and I had known for years before they served together in the Royal Marines, another Steve, called Tony a Marine’s marine. I felt so proud. The room was filled with such huge sadness borne out of huge love for this man who man, who meant so many different things to everyone there. The friends and family were handed Red Roses showing love to place on the coffin, I had not known this was to happen and had taken a Yellow rose as a symbol of goodbye. One of our favourite country songs was 18 yellow roses came today. A story of parting of two people who loved each other. Along with everyone else, I placed my rose on the casket and placed a kiss for one of the best friends, anyone could have and felt privileged to be sharing this intimate time with those who loved him. Only out of great love can come such great sadness. The last post played by the Royal Marine made me catch my breath.

After the service I approached many of Tony’s family, my family, with slight reservations as to how I would be greeted but had no reason to have worried. I have been ashamed of how he was treated a year ago, ashamed and guilty that a child of mine could behave so appallingly to anyone, let alone her sick elderly uncle who was terminally ill. I carry that shame, not the guilt as none of it was down to me.  Steven his eldest son, hugged me and said how he loved me, had always loved me, just didn’t want any of the drama from my sisters and daughter, so hadn’t been in touch with me very much. We hugged for quite a while, as I cried my heart out, sharing our grief and smiling at our reunion. It felt good , huge and full of all the emotions I have held on to for a long time. I then introduced myself to other family who didn’t really know me but knew of me, I spoke with friends of theirs, Tony’s grandchildren and great-grandchildren each showed me nothing but love and shared sadness. In a strange way, it felt good. I was back in the fold so to speak, back in my family and the love between us all was evident. Now knowing that the lies they had been told, were just that, lies, they showed me nothing but love.

One person I recognized, even though I hadn’t seen him since he was around 7 years of age, now a grown man, was my nephew Matthew, Trisha’s son. I was very surprised at seeing him there as his mother had not been welcome, because of her actions last year, so seeing him was a big surprise. I knew him well when he was a child and saw him after she and Mick, her husband had split up but then lost touch. I recognized him because he is identical to his late dad, a bit fuller faced but no mistaking who his father was. We chatted for a while and then left for the wake.

Everyone from the service had arrived at the place chosen to celebrate Tony’s life and talk about him as a person, between those who loved him. Sharing our stories and our sadness. I had made little booklets for the family, telling of how I remembered Tony, taken from my blog with added photos. These were mine and Tony’s memories and so there was no one now who was able to pass these on. It was sad in a way, that I was the only sibling present. I had wanted June, our now eldest remaining sister to attend, even though she has shut me out of her life for the same reason others did last year, to be there to say goodbye as I feel she will regret not doing so but she had declined the offer. So there was only me. The grand-daughters, Tina’s girls, had set up a table with a back drop of photos of Tony and a table with  his glasses, pen, TV remote, cigarette and ashtray and his timetable of programs to watch. Like he was there. Everything he always had to hand. It was wonderful and horrible at the same time. I held his glasses to my cheek and again, the tears came. Matthew and his partner, came and sat with us and we chatted about his dad, I was able to tell him things he hadn’t known about Mick and said I would find out certain things he didn’t know and send them to him. I have done this since coming home.

It was the strangest of days, everyone so sad at losing a wonderful man and yet celebrating what he meant to them individually. For me, it was something that I had always wanted, my family back together, but not for such a horrid reason. I felt so much love in that room, that my heart that had been hurting for a very long time, on that day, surrounded by the love of family, the happy was returning. I thank my brother for yet again, making things right for me. Giving me back those I love.

For the past year I have felt pain, anger, helplessness and hurt for my big bear. I wanted him well, I wanted him to live forever, as he has always been there, always been my ally, friend, confidante and friend. A constant in my not so constant life. Our dysfunctional family rendered us adults in a broken family. But. Tony succeeded with his wife Lin, to make a great family and that showed on Friday, in abundance. His children all comforting each other along with his grandchildren and they in turn, comforting and showing their love for me. He would be so proud. He taught them love, tolerance, forgiveness and friendship. I have done that with my daughter Marie but failed as you know, with my eldest daughter who has hurt me and my family, betrayed my beloved brother, in ways incomprehensible to anyone else.

Today is a bad day. Yesterday we lost a beloved pony and in ways, not explainable on this blog, our lives have changed again. But we will get through, I will bounce back. Tony would want that. I remember telling him late last year, that I had wasted too much time on those who had and were causing me pain, that I had to try to get back to work. When he gave me his final diagnosis of a few weeks, I planned to put this on hold. ‘You can’t help me darlin” he said’ ‘so go and help those you can’. So that is what I must do. Back to work.

So the bad of course was losing my hero, having part of me taken away, and out of that came the good of regaining my family, in person. To give and receive hugs full of warmth and love. The sad was accepting that I won’t ever speak with him again or see his smile, hear his laugh. The happy was being able to be part of a family of whom I have grown very proud, Tony’s family. My family. I thank them all from the bottom of my heart.

I haven’t mentioned David, my rock. He loved Tony in his own way, they got along so well and shared as I did, the same humour. This past week he has been amazing, right by my side throughout. Comforted me when I was down and I know would have been there if anything or rather, anyone had tried to spoil this very important goodbye. He is always at my side as I am his and for that I will be eternally grateful.

As I said last blog, my world is different now. Emptier in one way, more full in another. So thank you my big bear for raising a family who can take me back and believe in me as they used to.

Loves you Tony.

Thankyou for reading x

 

This past week, mostly since losing my beloved brother and then again, after our last PSA test, I have been shown what being Family really means.

A family isn’t necessarily formed in the home where you grow up, hopefully for most, it is, but for some, this is not the place they find love and friendship and everything that should go with being related in birth. That would be a traditional family and I think many years ago, with maiden aunts, great aunts, grandparents etc. all living close to their family, this was how families were. Back then, people stayed within that unit and the geographical area, and the love and safety was valued. But as people moved away, with work etc. and people divorced and lost touch with one side of their birth family, things now,are very different. In mine and some others, being related to people who distance themselves from you out of choice, people who fall out with each other, this unit, the family, becomes blurred and sometimes nonexistent.

Coming on here on Friday evening, to share my husband’s PSA results and the joy and relief; what came back, the support I felt, gave me something precious. Showed me that I was part of something so much bigger than birth family. I have been shown support and encouragement from the day I joined the Prostate Cancer groups and Friday was no exception. In fact the love that shone through, with the many messages, comments and posts sent, showed me what the meaning of family is in reality. Thank you to everyone who shared our relief and joy. What you all show, by encouraging others, telling your stories, supporting those troubled is nothing short of love.

I felt a bit unsure of posting after hearing of some who are fighting this disease and whose results were still worrying but felt I wanted to post some good in all of the bad. Those who reach the Survivors club will always feel a bit of guilt, I know this through my work with clients but I also know, a person who posts good news can also encourage others who are at an earlier stage in this disease. I hope no one took offence.

Sharing my journey with like-minded people, has and hopefully will continue to be a help to those reading and definitely a help to me. We all share a common thread, this nasty disease. I have shared my anger, frustration, fear and everything I felt, on here, with my groups and yesterday shared my joy. Unselfishly, many not so fortunate, commented and I thank everyone who did. Everything I have received from members from all over the world, I should have had from family but haven’t ,apart from a tiny few. You have all shown the real meaning of family.

I have often heard terms used as a ‘family’, not really ‘getting it’ so to speak, but I do now. The family of a church, Facebook family, a sporting family, unrelated, who share the same interests at a close level. Families can form from any close group of people who share something they really care about, I know that now. Within my groups, people show respect, trust, support and love. Sometimes you can gain more from such groups than you can from the people with whom you grew up, especially if yours is not close or is dysfunctional like mine. Children who are adopted, take on their new family as their own, whilst hopefully one-day knowing their roots. We should all be capable of loving everyone because we are after all, part of the biggest family of all, human kind.

I grew up in a very strange home, a dysfunctional family where I was neither wanted, nor loved. Our Dad, a lovely gentle man who really wanted a quiet life, was an ex Royal Marine who loved his children and his very formidable wife. I won’t go into the details but he was not my birth father but never showed any ill will towards me, as my mother did, every day. They rowed, she was unfaithful and so it was no wonder our family life was fraught and fragile. We did have extended family and would go to them, if allowed, for advice or support. A great aunt Rose and my two Nan’s. But our main influence was the woman they called my mother. My only ally at home, was Tony, my brother. This continued for most of my life, we remained very close. I had a good relationship with my eldest sister Georgina, although I saw little of her because of distance and a close relationship, when an adult, with June my second sister. But as a family, I don’t remember a time when everyone was talking to everyone else. Most times this would have been because of a falling out, often courtesy of our Mother, others like mine and the youngest sibling, Trisha’s, for no reason at all. So not how families should be and that I wanted.

I have had a best friend since I was 6, still friends today, her Mum and Dad included me in family outings, parties etc. When this kind lady who asked me to call her Mum some years ago, bought my bestie, (her name is also Carol) a new dress, she would buy me one as well. She knew of my childhood, or most of it and so included me in hers. As we all grew older, I looked on her as Mum and Carol’s dad, who is still alive, as Dad. They loved me as their own, which proves my point in a way. This was my respite.

When I married, I vowed never to be like the woman I grew up with, but the opposite. I would show my children endless love and support in everything they did and made sure I did this. I had no role model but knew I wouldn’t be like her, wouldn’t ‘mother’ in the way she did or didn’t. In my little family, despite many changes, I kept my daughters safe, taught them right from wrong, shared happy times and the sad or the tough and was always there at their side, loving them. I pointed them in the right direction of life and then had to take a back seat as you do when they grow up. I thought my family was functional, loving, caring and enjoyed my daughters endless sharing of their love for me. I thought I had succeeded in making a good family. In the past years, I have been shown that with my youngest Marie, I have succeeded but not with her sister, Lisa. They were brought up the same, in honesty and love but have turned out so different from each other. So family does not always work, even if brought up in the same home, even when shown love and respect. I know that now. There is so much more to it.

As we grow up, we blame our upbringing, our parents, our family, for everything that’s wrong in our lives. I know I do in part. But as we reach adulthood, we need to take the responsibility on ourselves. Yes our childhoods can affect us but they can also influence us in a good way. My childhood, my family experience was negative but I strive every day to make a positive impact on others. I did this throughout my children’s lives, if I failed, it wasn’t for want of trying. As a mum, my family, the one I made was everything to me. Yes my health was bad at times, yes there were many changes as I said and yes I made mistakes but we were family and that is how it should have stayed. The good times we had, are locked as memories in my heart, forever. I loved my girls the same, taught them the same, respect, loyalty, compassion. Marie has blossomed into a beautiful caring honest respectful adult of whom I am very proud. Lisa has not. I realise now that this happens in families, that it is not my fault and so don’t beat myself up about it anymore.

Today I should have grandchildren to retell stories of their mum’s life, tell them of their dad. Stories of their and aunts and uncle, but I don’t. I should have Christmas’s with family all around but I don’t. I have my lovely youngest daughter and her family but my grandchildren have had their minds contaminated by lies and stories that are so far from the truth, if it wasn’t so sad it would be laughable. Real families don’t do this to each other. So families you are born into or those you make yourselves can fall short at times where gained groups, stay loyal to who you really are, now, today.

So back to what I said earlier. This past few weeks, I have seen how strong a real family can be. I am so proud of my brother Tony’s family. He and Lin have done a great job with their children, especially their daughters. They have been there for each other, helping comforting, supporting each other and supporting me. They have shown great maturity, great strength, great love and he would be so proud. In this time of pain and loss, they have shown me love and included me in the family that I had been excluded from, for that I am so grateful. The love they show each other is how a real family should be. My niece Tina has been an amazing mum and Nan and this shows in how her family has rallied around as they did before Tony died. During Tony’s last days, she made it possible for me to talk to him when he was able. Her eldest daughter Sophie, is like her Mum and has kept me informed as much as possible. A wonderful granddaughter to Tony. No nastiness, no dislike or arguing amongst them. Just pure family love. I am proud to be back part of this lovely family.

So these past few weeks, grieving for Tony and all he was to me, relief in David’s results, have been hard and painful with the latter giving respite of a good and happy. I have put behind me the nasty comment and returned letter from my sister June, knowing she was put up to it. I have had bigger things to occupy my time. Writing this has made me think that perhaps as people in general, we need to understand each other, maybe go back to how families were, how they should be, what they used to be, loving, supportive, and loyal. Back to having respect for those around us and appreciative of them and show love and be grateful for their part in our lives. But the main thing I have learned, the big switch of the light so to speak, is that family don’t need to be blood. Sharing a common interest or goal, sharing a similar journey whether painful or joyful, is what can make us a real family. As good as, or in my case, better than, the family we were born into. So I want to say thank you to everyone in the groups I belong to, and the family that is Social media, for including me in their ‘family’, even though none of us would have chosen to be part of if we had a choice. PC has brought wonderful supportive people into my life mostly down to this horrid disease. So I say thank you to all of you. I would also like to thank friends with whom I have shared friendships for many many years, who are as close as family to me.

This coming week will be so hard. But the good is that it will see me back in the midst of my family, Tony’s family, where I know I will be welcome and loved. Saying goodbye will be so hard. I am not sure how well I will cope but David will be at my side. It will be a sad difficult day for his children and grandchildren and my heart goes out to them. He was so loved and we will say our good byes together. I will be both humbled and proud to be part of this great family that Tony and Lin created, a real family in every sense of the word. I now feel we are almost back to where we used to be, closer than we have been over the past few years. It is something Tony wanted and I have wanted since forever. Saying goodbye to my big bear, my brother at least I know I won’t be alone.

Thank you for reading. x

I became angry today, listening to the news. Three young men killed whilst waiting for a bus to go to a party. Innocent lives cut short by some one driving dangerously. I don’t know all of the facts but everyone knows that driving is serious business and in the wrong hands, a car can become a lethal weapon. This happened last night. I also heard of a suicide bomber, killing almost a hundred innocent people in Kabul. Killings in Pakistan, Istanbul and so the list goes on. I don’t see suicide bombers as martyrs or heroes, I see them as someone who has no respect for the life they have been given and the lives they steal. A few days ago, someone was ‘lost’ whilst mountaineering with out taking account of the weather warnings. This reminded me of rescuers who have died trying to reach or save such thoughtless people. Killings, murders, terrorism. Children murdered in their own homes by family or friends. Endless stories of loss of life that didn’t need to happen. No respect for this precious thing we have been given. The gift we all have and sometimes take for granted. The gift of Life. Where is the respect for all life gone?

I see this lack of respect in the work I do with animals. In my role as Inspector for a Horse charity, a member of Cat Protection, too much pain inflicted on animals and sometimes loss of precious lives. Only yesterday on social media, I saw a picture of a very scared little dog, the look in her eyes is haunting me. She had been thrown from a moving car. Thankfully she is now safe but will have to recover from this horrid ordeal. Whatever goes on in the head of someone who could do this.

This week we had David’s latest PSA result and thankfully it was undetectable. So relieved and happy but I know for some on my groups, their news is far from good. We don’t take anything for granted though. We will still be vigilant. We, the world I mean, need to talk about Prostate Cancer because it is still very ignorant. People will often say, ‘Oh that’s the good cancer’, or ‘you may die with it but you won’t die from it’. Really?? The latest statistics in the UK, 2014, were that there were 47,151 new cases and 11,287 deaths. So you can’t die from it? People need to be aware that if caught early enough, men will survive. Yes life may be different but this precious thing called life will still be theirs. In my case, we fought and won the battle and hope to win the war. Some say it is not a fight. I disagree. It’s a fight. Not only for the person who has the disease but for those caring and loving them. A fight to stay strong. A fight to support. A fight to survive treatment and sometimes, after all of this, a fight to just ‘be’. For me it was a battle like no other and I have had many battles to fight over the years.

Years ago, I watched my young sister-in-law, Tony’s first wife, fight to live. She had cancer during her pregnancy with her first son and they operated and removed it.It then returned after her 2nd son. She sadly lost this fight. Broke my heart. She was 26 years old. A battle lost.

I know how my friend’s husband fought and lost his fight against this evil disease.

Then around 5 years ago, my friend and confidante Mo, fought so bravely against her illness. A kind, funny, loving lady whom everyone who knew her, loved . She never complained, never moaned and always managed to have a laugh, even up unto the end. A battle lost.And what a battle she fought.

Now , this past year I watched my beloved Tony, my brother fight the hardest fight of his life. His family at his side, fought with everything he, they and I had to keep him with us. On January 4th, this  year that battle was lost. Tony died. My heart broke.

So yes, cancer is a fight.

I felt in the middle of a battle, throughout David having PC. The waiting, the scans, biopsies etc. Then the surgery. David was as always very pragmatic and was amazing. This was a battle he was determined to win. Me, I felt battle worn long before we could breath and relax. There is some respite for a short time, between PSA tests. I believe we have conquered this evil cancer with a little ‘c’ and my battle now is to hold on. To banish the words ‘what if’ from my vocabulary and live. But I will always have the armour to hand, just in case. Throughout all of this time, this past year, I was on the periphery of my brother’s family but right there in spirit and Tony knew that. I wanted to attack the nasty that was stealing my big bear from me and those who loved him. The helplessness was overwhelming. We often talked, my brother and I, of how hard he felt it being so reliant on others. I reassured him that they didn’t mind, that they loved him and he knew this. I couldn’t be there at his side but he knew I was always at the end of the phone and that I loved him. My battle at that time was with myself, illness here ‘on the farm’, responsibility here kept me from visiting very much. I would always have fought alongside him as he would have me, in any fight. But sometimes as in this, I felt helpless and that made the battle even harder. The other demons facing him this past year just made his life that much harder and for that I will always be angry with those who betrayed him at this horrid time.That fight will be ongoing for me.

Life is precious  and we should live it, make the most of it and value and rspect it.Sadly some waste it. Spend it risking it, abusing it. Some spend huge amounts of time, their lives, hurting others, causing trouble, breaking the law, killing. Disrespecting the life of those they hurt or kill. Some spend too much of their lives worrying, I know I do, about things they have no control over. Wasting their life on those who don’t deserve time spent on them, instead of cherishing this very thing. Life itself. What a waste of time, a waste of life.

I will always fight battles for those I love, stand by them when they are ill or in trouble. I will love and support and fight for my husband in any way that I can and value the life we have. I will fight right by his side whatever PC or anything else has to throw at us, we will always fight together.Whatever the battle. I may sometimes get it wrong. Sometimes people may not approve of how I fight. Bearing my soul on here, but I know it is part of me, part of how I am, standing up and fighting, something I have had to do over and over, throughout my life and will continue to do when needed. Writing my blog, bearing my soul, keeps me sane, keeps me from losing it at times I need to be strong. I find writing my blog therapeutic and a way of offloading. Selfish? Maybe but with due respect,people don’t have to read it, do they.

I began todays blog talking about how easy some find it to kill and maim others. How the lack of respect for the lives of others,astounds me. The lack respect for life itself. Yes, I am angry at how futile killing is and angry that some people throw others live’s away at a whim. Through thoughtlessness, or on purpose. How life is not valued like it should be. Whilst these horrendous acts are being perpetrated, people like Tony, like group members, anyone who has a terminal disease, is fighting literally for their lives. It makes me ashamed and it makes me sad.

I have wasted a great deal of time, of my life these past years, on people who shouldn’t even warrant a thought in my head. Those who have hurt and betrayed me and my family. They know who they are. No more. If I have battles to fight, they will be worthy ones and I will, I hope win some. A battle they began, against me, will be won and I will see Karma.

I admire Tony, Mo and others who are fighting disease and illnesses and will offer my support in the future if it is needed. To those who say PC is not a battle, I say, for me, it is and I am sure for others. A battle we willingly fight alongside our partners but obviously wish the fight had never begun.

Until the world learns respect for the little things, brings its children up to respect others, to respect their families and to respect life itself,sadly  nothing will change. The world will remain broken.

Since beginning this blog around 18 months ago and reading the amazing stories of strength, faith and courage, reading of the battles people fight to survive, especially members of the PC groups I am part of,I have gained a new respect for them and for life itself.

Thankyou for reading x

 

 

 

Life for me has been like living in a fog, for a long time now. Not able to see the view, the way forward or even the way back. A fog of fear, pain, worry and now grief. But I know that one day the fog will lift. Life will be clearer and I will find my way. The fog in my case has been around for 4 plus years and as you may have read in previous blogs, often I have lost my way. I write as I feel and sometimes my words are muddled, emotional, deep and show everything I feel. Sometimes too many emotions come spilling out of me all at the same time. This I apologise for. But not for my truth, my depth of feeling, I can’t say sorry for that. Fog can confuse you, disorientate and often scare you. It can interfere with your thought process and lead you on the wrong path. That I am sorry for.

One year ago today. I learned of the betrayal of my daughter Lisa,to my brother and was horrified and sickened. I found it hard to believe but she has since shown me that I should have known the extent of her deceit but I hadn’t wanted to believe it. These past two weeks I have felt grief like I have never known before. Tony’s death has left me feeling as though part of me has died. It has made me selfish with my time, selfish with my emotions. Grief does that. Is it self-indulgent? Yes I suppose it is but I have, today, come to understand the depth of this grief is an accumulation of things gone before. All the emotions of the past years have caught up with me and at times are difficult to handle.

Last weeks blog showed my feelings, and also anticipatory grief. Fear of the next few weeks, PSA’ test , waiting for the results. Letting  the ‘what ifs’ have a field day. Ellie’s cancer and the future, losing her, looms every day. Grief for those I have loved and lost for a variety of reasons. Grief for our life before PC. Yes, it is different and yes, I am grieving for the ‘normal’ we used to have. Tony’s death has brought me to have to face things I don’t want to face. Saying goodbye. Brought back past goodbyes and left me anticipating future goodbyes. Rendering me very low.

Grieving for those still living has been going on for a while, I realise that and it is futile and undeserved. I will no longer grieve them. They chose to leave and I have accepted that.

Grieving for life as it was. Before September 2 years ago, I had never heard of Prostate Cancer. I wish I was still as ignorant. It blew my life apart and left my husband having to go through surgery and the constant worry over each and every blood test. His last two were fine and I pray this one will be too. I have no reason to think differently but of course, I do. Yes, ‘what ifs’ once again.

The ‘c’ word will possibly always do this to all of us, worry us I mean, but I didn’t think about it until David was diagnosed. I need to work on my ‘now’ as I teach clients. Today and only today. Yesterday is gone and tomorrow is not here yet, so focus on today. Sounds easy doesn’t it. Well it isn’t.

The selfishness of my own grief is evident in everything I do. My love for Tony was huge and constant and my grief  is in danger of becoming the same. It is raw and real and understandable. Yes it makes me selfish.Yes I am hurting and yes I am angry. This anger is so much more because of the worry and hurt inflicted on him in his last months by my daughter and our sister. Unforgivable and avoidable. They had the chance to make things right and refused his wish. Cruel and undeserved.

Along with this grief is how all of this affected me at a time I needed to be present in my own home, for those I love. I was absent emotionally for a long time. Anger is a huge part of the fog that surrounds me. Anger of late,at the cruelty directed at me since Tony’s death but it now has little effect. Those throwing hurt my way are helping to lift the fog of emotions and for that I am grateful.

My past blogs have told of each and every emotions I have felt, I have spoken, even shouted them, here on this page. Doing this is a kind of self therapy, a way of offloading, expressing my feelings and releasing this anger and pain. Again , self-indulgent but helpful to me. Anger at PC is one of the fiercest angers I have ever felt. It came blustering into our lives and we weren’t ready. Would we ever have been ready? Of course not. As I have written before, PC is a couple’s cancer. Yes our men have the physical disease and treatment but we as wives and partners, share their pain, their fears and their own anger. Hating cancer with a little ‘c’ has become a life long emotion for me and I am sure for others.

So these are all particles of my emotional fog. Each one making it thicker than before and I sometimes can’t find my way out and am not sure how I actually feel about being in it.

The Written Word.

As  literary horder, I keep everything written to me, about  me and by me. Always have done. My way of looking back and trying to make sense of nonsensical things. I vowed at the beginning of this blog 2 years ago, to ‘tell it s as it’. Honest to the core. Sometimes hard to read and sometimes muddled and raw. I will continue to do this.

The F word is present most of the time, the main substance of my fog. This week we may know the results of Davids latest PSA. The waiting is horrid. I have tried ,as I said last week, not to go onto my PC groups because I don’t want to read the sad posts, the men who are suffering, relapsing, dying from this evil disease. I need to keep myself together, just in case. As I said at the beginning, with the grief still so raw, yes I am being selfish.

PC has brought back symptoms of PTSD which I have spoken about before in earlier blogs. I find myself ruminating over the past, David diagnosis, his surgery etc. Tony’s illness, my sister and best friends cancers. All very unhelpful and all making the fog thicker.

A few years before the nasties started with my daughter and sister Trisha, I was involved in a nasty cruel internet hoax that stole 6 months of my life. It ended in a court case and punishment for the perpetrator. It also left me with nightmares and panicky feelings. These lessened for a while but lately come back on occasions. Again, leaving the fog long after I have woken up. I would wake up and for a spilt second all was okay and then reality set in and the fear had a field day. When David was first diagnosed with PC, I would not sleep well but if I did, I would wake and he was beside me, fleetingly all was well, but then, like a thud, cancer was in my head and the fear began all over again. These past few weeks, since Tony’s death, I awake and again for  a spilt second everything is okay, then it hits me. Tony is no longer here. I know that to lift some of the fog of emotions I need to cry, I will in time. Living in a world without him seems impossible, but I know I must and I will.

There is only so much loss and fear the human mind can take at one time, without it adversely affecting a person’s health. Many times in the past years, I have felt close to breaking. I reached this point many times over and over hearing the horrendous lies and stories told by these two relatives of mine, being spread to anyone who would listen. This constant attack has left me wanting and fuelling the fog I find myself in at times.

So these next few weeks will be extra hard. Losing my ‘big bear’ has brought sadness that I had not envisaged. Pain that is physical and left me without siblings. We were so close and I am missing him so much already. I still can’t quite take it in, I still go to ring him or say, ‘must tell Tony that’.

To lift the fog, I need to cleanse the parts of my life that give me the anger, the hurt , the pain and the grief. Normal grief is okay and will take time to heal and that will happen, I just need to be patient. I need to look at positives, David ‘s facial surgery has been done as far as we know the cancer has all gone. I am working on my anger towards my sister and my daughter, yes I blame Trisha for how my daughter is today. But she is a grown woman and was taught right from wrong, parents can only point children in the right direction. It is up to the child especially, when an adult, to choose the right path to follow. Not my responsibility.

Today we have been discussing the future with Marie and her husband,and that is where my healing will begin. I am starting to see a future, a new beginning and that will help the fog lift. After I have said a goodbye to my beloved brother, the healing of the grief will begin and maybe, my emotions will calm down and I will allow myself to cry. Again this will help lift the fog. I tell clients that grief  will take as long as it takes, don’t try to force it, don’t deny it. Good advice. I will be okay. Soon I will see the road ahead more clearly. I will always miss Tony. I will hurt for a very long time, I know that  but have so many happy memories to help me through. I will always worry about PC returning but the secret is, focus on today for that is all we have for now.

See, the fog is already getting thinner.

Thankyou for reading. x

 

 

I didn’t write last week, felt numb, in shock and not up to sitting up here in my study, let alone write. It has been a horrible start to 2018 and end to 2017. It doesn’t matter how much you expect something, it is always a shock when it happens.

2017 left us with my beloved brother Tony, taken into hospice care. I have written before about his fight against cancer, and had hoped the doctors had got it wrong. 22 years ago, Tony was given 2 years to live after being diagnosed with MID,  a disease that gives him multiple mini strokes. Thankfully they had been wrong. So why can’t they get it wrong again, this time? I hoped. But they didn’t, they were right, they gave him a year this time last year and he lost his fight on January 4th 2018. He had wanted to die at home and his daughter made sure he had his wish and brought him home on New Years Eve. I spoke with him as much as he was able to talk, every other day, then every day up until he could no longer speak, the day before he died. I think we both knew because I had said I would ring again and he told me he wasn’t very chatty. The last words he said to me were ‘Loves you’ and I said the same to him with a lump in my throat. My heart began to break.

In a state of pain and hurt for my loss and that of his children, I have and am, trying to get back on track. Tony would tell me off if he saw me today. When he first told me his diagnosis last year, I was upset and angry, ‘It’s alright’ he told me calmly but it wasn’t alright. I wasn’t alright. He had been the only constant in my life from the beginning. The one I would go to, the one I would call on and he knew he could always call on me. He phoned me a couple of months ago when he had asked his daughter if he was dying. She told me he cried. My big bear of a man, crying. That day he left a message on my answer phone, I was at the doctors I think, saying he just wanted a chat. I still have that message but can’t yet listen to it. I am finding all of this incredibly hard. Not sure how to be, how to feel. At times like this family should pull together like Tony’s family, the family he made are doing. They should comfort and support each other and share the grief of losing a much-loved brother, or at least, much-loved by me. My own birth family is a very dysfunctional family, always has been and don’t talk to me, well not directly, so this would never happen. Not that I would have expected it, even at times of great heartache, they choose to continue their vendetta against me, but more on this later.

This past week has seen David having to have a third skin cancer removed, this time from his face. I know it is only a minor operation, or was and know he will be fine but the association with cancer, hospital etc. brings me to a halt. David having Prostate cancer, my sister Georgina dying from cancer as did my closest friend Mo, have left the very word sticking in my throat. I hate cancer and everything that goes with it. The waiting, the worrying, the fear and the what ifs’. I hate, in the case of PC, the side effects and lifelong after effects of surgery. It all makes me angry, sad and  scared. To make it even harder my little dog has had surgery on a cancer and is now inoperable. Not in any pain but does have worrying days, between the normal happy ones. We worry about leaving her and she has become very clingy to me since having surgery, so we don’t leave her if we don’t have to. So Friday, having to be away from home for the whole of the day, wasn’t an option as David said. Marie, our daughter drove her dad to Swansea and I stayed at home with Ellie. It was a very long day. They checked in with me when they arrived, after surgery and before they left to come home. The house seemed strange without my husband, I think or rather know, that this is the first day I have been here ‘on the farm’, on my own. 9 years. Very odd. I knew I needed to keep busy, so wrote a blog for my family, those who loved Tony and his friends, telling of happy memories I had of him that they would not have known about. I had to try to overlay the grief with good things and so this helped me a bit. I only posted it on my page and not on my groups. David has to go back to see the consultant for the results and to have the dressing taken off and the plastics team to assess the skin graft, next Friday, again in Swansea. Marie will once again take him. She really is a good caring daughter.

The following week brings the next hurdle, the next PSA test and then, following on, will be the results of that at a meeting with the surgeon, who carried out David’s robotic operation to remove the prostate. As some of you know, these tests bring their own fears and worry. The ‘what ifs ‘ return in full force even though you try to ignore them, they are there. We will go together as we have done all through this horrible time, as it is a morning appointment and Marie will dog sit, we will go with everything crossed and a great deal of hope.

As I have said before, when PC strikes it takes no account of anything that is happening in your life at that time. For every follow-up appointment, the fear, the memories and the ‘what if’s’ rule my life.

I have been a bit selfish, haven’t been on my groups, commenting and supporting others. Couldn’t handle it with all that is going on. I am trying to be strong for my husband and my little dog. Cancer of any kind is a dirty word in our home. I know many others have it worse and I feel for them but I know that we have had our fill of pain, fear and hurt this year and it is only mid January. So sorry for those posts I have missed. I suppose in a way, the ‘nasties’ inflicted on my family, through the things done to me, are a cancer of their own in a way. Spreading, with lies and stories contaminating anyone who doesn’t know me but is told the lies about me.

One year ago, I wrote a blog on here that was commented on by my eldest daughter. The blog was telling of how she betrayed my brother and his trust in her, in the worst way possible.I was angry, hurt and ashamed. If people want you to write kindly about them, then they should behave better to you and others.  I did not allow the comments, as they showed her for what she is, nasty, vindictive, a liar all in foul language. A week ago, the day I didn’t blog, because of being so upset at losing Tony, I received a nasty comment on the same blog that I had written a year ago. I allowed this comment. Accusing me of lying, talking rubbish and lying about my youngest sister and all from someone whom I have never met. Cowardly as she used a false name and email but I now KNOW who she is. I hate cowards, if someone has something to say that they believe to be true, they should at least write in their own name. No thought for the way I was feeling, no respect for my having lost someone so dear to me, no compassion, just nasty evil lies bad mouthing me. I wouldn’t mind if what was said, was true or if she knew me or thought they were true. But no. She doesn’t know me, only heard what some else has told her. I am not concerned re the content but really don’t need this now. Why wait a year to comment on this blog? Why now when I am grief-stricken?  Because they think me vulnerable. They will know how I am hurting, both my daughter Lisa and sister ‘s, June and Trisha, know how much I loved my brother and know how I must be hurting. This comment showed me their selfishness, their lack of compassion and their cruelty. But most of all their lack of respect for Tony.

This was followed with a reply from a letter I wrote at the beginning of December to my now eldest sister June, putting it inside of a Christmas card, asking if we can get things back on track, as Tony would soon no longer be here. I felt we could help each other in our sadness and grief. My letter to her,was asking if the closeness we always shared, could be rekindled. June cannot read or write, I knew someone would read it to her, so I know someone put her up to replying in such a nasty manner. Why didn’t she reply before Christmas? Why didn’t she return my Christmas card as she did her birthday card? Why. Because the timing was right for any hurt inflicted on me, to happen now. She did not mention Tony, say how upset she was, just intent on causing me pain. Well, she needn’t have bothered, I am all hurt out now. You could, I suppose, excuse people, who try to hurt you when they are unaware of what is going on in your life, but these two acts were heartless to the extreme. I know who put June up to sending this letter and one day I hope they hurt as much as I am hurting now. Not very Christian I know but after 4 years of this, I don’t feel very Christian. I am now trusting Karma.

So January and February are bad months already, things gone and things we know are to come. Lots of worry, hurt, grief and loss bringing great sadness. The little girl in me is very evident.

I have noticed these past few months, that David has changed. In the past he has always been strong, almost dismissive of things that should have been of a concern but not now. He was anxious around this last procedure and is not the same as he usually is, today. He seems almost vulnerable, not something I have seen in him before. Marie said he was so eager to leave the hospital,  the nurse had to almost order him to stay until he had been assessed. He says it was to get back to me and the animals but I am not so sure. Tony’s death has left me reeling, it has made me more sad than I had envisaged and David has been such a comfort to me. But the last week, things that have happened have made him so angry and disgusted that I know he worries about my health and how others have rendered me so unwell. I also think that ‘here on the farm’; we are safe. It is our home, our bit of paradise, where we live out ‘our fairytale’ that makes some people in my family, jealous of what we have. It is here that he holds me when I cry, comforts me during this awful grief and loves me through all of the pain and I do the same for him. Even when some around me try their best to destroy our peace. It is where we make our memories.

I have to remind myself of my blessings. Tony used to say how lucky I am, a wonderful husband and daughter, good friends and now once again family who care. I live in the most beautiful part of Wales in a lovely house surrounded by countryside, our lake and pond and numerous wildlife. Tony never saw this house but loved our previous home, a country cottage in Monmouth and visited regularly with Lin, his wife. Yes I am lucky for all of that but most of all because I have David to share it all with. Those trying to spoil it are not important enough to impact on any of that.

I will grieve for my beloved Tony, and refuse to let those trying so hard to hurt me at this horrid time, to succeed. Everything I have I have worked hard for. Everything I am I have worked hard to be. If they don’t like it, that is their issue not mine. I know I would never have done any of the evil things they have done to me but most of all, the past week has shown me that they lack compassion, empathy and pure decency to attack anyone when that person is grieving for someone they love. Unforgivable. It says so much about them and allows me to be pleased not to be part of the family they belong to. Family doesn’t tear each other apart.

Sorry if this sounds down but grief does that. It also makes you selfish and I understand and apologise for that. ‘ Karma will see, that the people who hurt others will get their just desserts’. I am beginning to hope this is right.

Carol Ann, a ‘real woman’.

Thankyou for reading x

 

 

For the whole of my life, Tony, my beloved brother and I have been there for each other. Maybe separated by distance these past years but not in our hearts. He’s always been there for me. There are many stories I could tell you about the scrapes he got us into, the times he rushed down to me as an adult,when I needed him. The wonderful holidays he and Lin shared with us in our cottage, in Monmouth, that he so loved. So many but I will select a few that will hopefully make you smile. Those who knew him as Grand dad, ‘Ampy, Dad, will, I hope enjoy the memories that I will pour out on this page.

One of my earliest memories of being with Tony, was in our first school. He had been at a Prep school in Portchester since he was 3 years old and then onto Castle Street Primary, Portchester, where I joined him when I was five. There was a paddling pool in the grounds and in the Summer we would all take turns in dipping our feet in, under the watchful eye of a teacher. We were told by the very strict headmistress, not to go near the pool without an adult. Tony and Mickey Rushin, his close friend and our neighbor, were messing around as boys do and Tony fell in. He was seen by a teacher and taken to the head’s office. To make a point, I think; wouldn’t be allowed today but no such things a pc in those days; Tony was made to wear a dress for the rest of the day. Very embarrassed but it worked, he didn’t go near the pool again.

We were both part of an organisation called the Woodcraft’ run by a local scout leader I think. Tony and I were asked to be part of the Portchester May Queen. I was to carry the train of her gown and Tony carried the cushion with her scroll on it. After this, we had dancing around the Maypole. My brother thought it would be fun to wrap the coloured ribbons around Josephine and me so that we were tied to the maypole. The leader of this event, was not best pleased and the tangle the ribbons were in was another story. I think I was laughing but not too sure, I know Josephine’s mum wasn’t. But another day, another memory for me to keep in my heart of my mischievous brother.

 

To understand the next memory, you need to understand where Tony was in the pecking order in our home. Well, he was his mother’s ‘precious pup’ and could do no wrong. I think we all spoiled him a bit, I know I did and I waited on his every whim. If he had told me the world was flat, I would have believed him. So when, on a sunny school day, soon after I had begun school, he came over to me while I was in the dinner queue and told me it was home time, I believed him. I joined him running out of the school gate, to get the bus I thought. But no. It wasn’t home time, Tony had been told off once again in class and decided he had had enough and so, with his ‘partner in crime’, he left for the day. We walked for a while and went into a walled ‘garden’ full of fruit trees. We had missed lunch and so were both hungry. We filled ourselves with freshly picked plums, apples and pears. After a while we left the garden and both feeling a bit unwell, I remember having a horrible tummy ache and Tony holding his tummy, as we sat on the pavement on the Portchester Road. A family friend, Aunt Nappin, saw us and asked why we were not in school, quick as a flash Tony said, ‘oh we are going to the dentist’. She waved goodbye and walked on. Eventually we made our way home, only to find Mother stood by the front door, arms folded. I knew what that meant. We hadn’t bargained for the fact that Aunt Nappin had been on her way to our house and said she had seen us on our way to the dentist! We, or rather in this instance, I, was in trouble. Tony was sent to his room and I was blamed for leading him astray. Did my brother own up? I will leave you guessing.

Tony, Mickey Rushin, his sister Josephine and I, had a den, under the ground on a piece of land, opposite the White Heart shop on the Portchester Road, that is now covered in houses. We had to crawl down a kind of shaft and had made seats out of old boxes and enjoyed many a picnic. When I think now, how dangerous was that! But children don’t do ‘health and safety’ and nothing awful happened while we played there.

We lived in a bungalow in The Crossways in Portchester, Mum, Dad after he retired from the Royal Marines, my two sisters, Georgina and June, Tony and I. One evening, Dad came into the sitting room and told us to listen and identify a sound. We heard a cry and Tony said, ‘it’s a cat, you have bought us another cat’. (poppet our ginger cat had recently died). Dad laughed, ‘no not a cat’. He led Tony by the hand and I followed into the bedroom that was Mum and Dad’s, only see the source of the sound, a tiny baby girl. A sister. That then meant, Tony was the only boy in a family of five. Shortly after this we moved to Gosport and into our Nan’s. Not sure why but that’s another story for another time. I do remember top and tailing in bed with my sisters, Tony sleeping on the couch and the baby, slept in a drawer.

We used to play in a park  close to Nan’s and my favourite thing was the slide. Tony and his pals would go down the slide on a rusty bit of tin. I was quite a frail tiny child and one day, Tony had gone down but was sitting at the bottom on the tin. I was sat at the top waiting to descend. I shouted and he told me to hold on. I couldn’t, I found myself hurtling towards the aforementioned tin, held in place by my brother’s backside and yes, straight into my leg it went. On arriving home, I didn’t tell our Mother what had happened but did enjoy a trip to hospital for stitches, on the back of Dad’s motorbike. I loved that.I still have the scar and talked to Tony about this when we visited this Summer, showed him the scar and we both remembered the times we played and although he laughed, he did say he was sorry.

When he was around 10 years old and we were both at Holbrook school, he took on a paper round. The paper shop was right next door to our home. Thorne’s newsagent. The boys back then, had to go into the shop early, mark up each paper, fill up their bags and then go out and deliver them. Sometimes Tony would ask me to go in and mark the house numbers on and I never refused. Many times I went with Tony. He would sit on his bike, roll up each paper and point the house it had been ordered for. Who took the papers? Who braved the dogs? Who got soaking wet while Tony sat on his bike under a tree for shelter from the rain? Who had to run to keep up with him? Yes you have guessed, his little sister Carol Ann. If the weather was really bad, as time went on, even after he joined Bridgemary boys school, he would say he was not feeling well and couldn’t do his round. He suffered with Asthma but looking back, these occasions became numerous and he recovered very well. But only after I had said I would do the paper round for him. He did pay me though. He had 10 shillings and sixpence a week. He gave me the sixpence. Did I complain? Never.  That’s love.

We had many homes, after Nan’s, eventually living in Brewers Lane, Bridgemary. Tony joined the Royal Marine cadets. Back then, there were no such things as stay bright buttons. Every button on his uniform,had to be clean and shiny, each polished individually. I did this for him relentlessly. Every single week. His belt and cap had to be whitened with ‘Blanco’. Very messy and I did this as well. All willingly. If Tony wanted anything doing, he only had to ask. We had a very special bond and we both knew that.

Then he joined the Royals as an adult, while he was shore based close by, the ‘cleaning and polishing’ continued. He went on many tours of duty and I missed him very much and was always worried for him. One year he had been determined to spend Christmas at home but his leave was to end 23rd December. He had Mum phone in to say he was unwell and couldn’t return to base. He did have a bit of a cough, that we put down to the cigarettes. A while after this, he was sitting in the kitchen, smoking and looking forward to having a great Christmas, when I saw a Haslar Hospital medics van draw up. I went and told him. I had never seen him move so fast. Up the stairs, minus a discarded cigarette, into his bed and looking sorry for himself. The Doctor from his unit I suppose, went up only to find him short of breath and very hot. He had just run up a flight of stairs and been smoking, but the doctor was concerned and admitted him to Haslar hospital. So much for spending Christmas at home. This was actually a good thing, he was found to have TB and so spent a long time in quarantine. I remember having to gown up every time I visited, taking cream cakes for him and the other patients. Whilst there I would read poetry to a very sick young man and watch my brother, flirt outrageously with the nurse. They all loved him. He was that kind of guy.

One of the early jobs Tony had, before joining the Royals, was in a men’s outfitters, he had previously been at the Landport Drapery Store,working. I was called to this outfitters, one afternoon, Baker and Co, I think it was called in Portsmouth, I was working in Southsea at that time. Tony had been sent up into the storage loft only to tread between the boards and end up through the floor. Not really funny but as he slipped through the ceiling of the shop window, he was seen with his legs dangling around the neck of the mannequin. So it did raise a laugh for passers-by, although his inner thighs were nothing to smile about later.

As we grew older, he would tease me, about boyfriends, laugh at me in a kind way, get me into more scrapes but we loved each other dearly. When the chips were down, we were there for each other. Even if at times, he couldn’t show me, I always knew.

When our eldest sister married David, I was chief Bridesmaid and Tony was an usher. He looked very dapper in his red tie and red silk cummerbund. Tony loved his clothes. He looked very handsome and knew it.

Tony agreed to ‘give me away’ at my first wedding to Lisa’s dad, Terry Brown. He joked with Terry saying he never ‘gave anything away’ and so would have to charge. They got on well. He was married at this point to a girl I thought a lot of, his first wife Lin. She was heavily pregnant with their first son Steve. Outside of the hairdressers from where Tony collected me, on a very wet windy November 12th,1966, I was glad to see he had brought an umbrella. At first it was over him, then remembering he was a gentleman, he held it over my head. It couldn’t have rained more if we had ordered it! The wedding was blighted a bit  and part of me was very sad. As we were waiting for the car to collect us, Tony saw the tears. He reached into his pocket but didn’t have a hankie so said, ‘use your veil’. That was my brother.

There are so many more memories but need to use only a few.

Life went on, Tony and I were always in touch. After his wife sadly died, he met Lin his second wife and they went on to have 2 daughters. My nieces, Tina and Alison. Lin and I became very close  and later as the years passed, shared our love of nature, the horses and my dogs .We shared many happy times together, when the children were young,my two girls, Marie from my second husband, Lisa, Terry’s daughter, Tony, Lin and their family, the girls and Steve. Going to Leigh Park gardens etc. All of us, such happy times.

Life went on and for a few years we drifted apart, which was sad and I regret that. I missed Tony a lot and had become fond of Lin and missed them all. But after a while, life returned to ‘normal’ and I visited or we, David and I, visited them and they us, often. Always having a lot of fun and a lot of laughs. Tony and I always tried to use humour in most situations. I could tell of many of these but not today.

Tony was an outrageous flirt when younger. He was sat in a café, during our brief estrangement, down to others, and saw a lovely looking girl at the counter. He was remarking to those with him on her beautiful look when she walked up to him and said, ‘Hello Uncle Tony’. He was shocked and surprised. The beautiful girl was my youngest daughter Marie, his niece. That could have been embarrassing.

When we moved to Monmouth, I was worried we wouldn’t see him and Lin but I was so wrong. They came and stayed close to us, for many a holiday.Not in the house because of his allergy to cats. He could stay all day, or we would go sightseeing, but couldn’t stay long in the evening when the cats were indoors. I loved these holidays, I loved having Tony and Lin there,sharing my lovely country cottage. Tony also loved it and found the whole place restful and relaxing. When we visited family back in Hampshire, Lin and Tony played host and hostess to us and we had many happy times in their flat.

I remember how proud he was when I gained my Masters and how he said he could see how I could help people. When I wrote my autobiography, he again was so proud. But the time I remember most was when my children’s book Wozwell was launched. We all went into Smiths in Fareham and he took it off the shelf it shared, with Roald Dahl and Enid Blyton, telling people his sister had written the book. He almost danced out of the shop, so happy and proud. I will hold these memories forever.

Tony wanted to ride my wonderful horse, Star. I was a bit worried but he said he would really like to do this and I knew she was solid and safe and would look after him.  So we ventured into the local woods and with a great deal of help, and not elegantly, he mounted. Marie walked with them as they rode off into the ‘sunset’ as they say. On his return he was beaming. Saying it was great fun. I knew Star would keep him safe. We told him how to dismount, but did he listen? Of course not. Tony knew how to do this. Of course he did. As he begun, very unceremoniously, he slipped and fell. Not sure how but the position he found himself in was not one I had seen before. He didn’t help himself by laughing so hard. Lin and I couldn’t help him for the same reason. Eventually, after what seemed as age, he fell to the ground. Surrounded by woodland flowers and moss saying ‘Wonderful, Loved that’ through his laughter.

Whatever was happening in his own life or mine, we shared it and he would always manage to make me smile. He talked a lot of sense at times and we often gave each other advice. Whether it was taken is a different matter all together. Tony was a king of one liners. He could make you laugh even when you were at breaking point. That is why today, I need to write this blog. Thanks Tony for giving me so many memories.

So, although today is still very very hard, at a time my heart is hurting more than I can say, I needed to remember the good times, some of the fun times and also wanted to share these with family and friends. Some memories I am not ready to revisit but hope these will give you an idea of the man Tony was. The wonderful dad he was to his children and how they have dealt with everything these past few months especially, will wait for another day. These are a few of my memories that none of you will have, so I wanted to share the good times. The laughter and show his mischievous side.

Yes this is for you, our family, our friends near and far. But also for me and for my Big bear. My brother. My friend. My Tony  ‘Loves you’.xx

Thankyou for reading xx

 

 

 

This time last year my blog was sad, but determined. It told of how I wanted to stay up until midnight to watch 2016 die. Hoping that the year to follow would be better. Well that was not how life went. We had had the diagnosis of Prostate cancer before that blog and yes, I was terrified but determined to help my beloved husband through, no matter what. I am usually a strong person but haven’t felt that way during the past few years. The previous years had been horrible, courtesy of my daughter Lisa and youngest sister Trisha, of whom I have referred to in previous blogs. Do I feel guilty for doing that? No, not any more. I thought last year had seen me witness the worst things they could do, if you read back you will see the horrific cruel things that have been done to me and my family, made worse by not stopping when David was diagnosed with cancer. But the worst was yet to come, early in 2017.I had also been ‘ordered’ not to post photos of my grandchildren or children on social media, my memories and told not to ‘miss people’. Well I am human and we lose people we love and we miss people and I think it healthy to do so.

Over this Christmas period, I learned something very valuable. I promised in a blog, ‘A Different Christmas, My Choices, My New Strength’, that this year I wouldn’t waste my time missing those who were no longer in my life. This new knowledge I learned, is that I wasn’t missing who they are now, today, but what they had been to me for many years. I was missing the daughter I raised, the thoughtful, kind loving child she had been. Maybe my view of her was biased because I only remembered the good in her. Others remembered the reality. I was reminded of horrible things Lisa had done to me and others, during her life. I didn’t have to be reminded of things my youngest sister did, I knew only too well, during our growing up but knew nothing of her for 40 years, before she resurfaced with her evil influence on my daughter and her family. So this person my daughter had become, I realised, I didn’t miss because I didn’t recognize her. She often threw at me in emails that I didn’t know her. Well I think she is right. Why would I miss someone whose sole purpose these past 4 years was to hurt me? Why would I miss someone who hopes I ‘grow old on your own, alone and unloved’? So a New Year resolution, begun last blog, is that I won’t spend any time missing those who have hurt me.

A brief resume of 2017.

January last year saw us struggling to hold things together, or rather I was, David seemed fine, as I have said before, very pragmatic and took everything in his stride. I was struggling. Terrified of the ‘what ifs’. I read everything I could on PC, I wrote a blog offloading my fears and feelings every single week, the comments and support I have had has been wonderful. The worst emotion I felt throughout the year and those years before, was Fear, the ‘F’ word. At the end of January I learned to my horror that my eldest daughter had defrauded my brother who is terminally ill out of a huge amount of money. I was angry, disgusted and ashamed. But there was a positive to this, a selfish one, my whole family had been taken in by the lies told by her and my sister and now knew who the liars were.

Also in January my little dog had cancer and was taken in for surgery. The first operation was a success, the second a few months later, wasn’t. Her heart stopped under the anesthetic and so the surgery was abandoned and the cancer remains. Again fear was my companion.

February after what seemed an absolute age, David had surgery and the cancer, with a little ‘c’, was removed. I have blogged extensively about this so won’t repeat myself except to say, the waiting for me, was the worst part. The outcome? This is the ‘good’ in 2017. This is the happy, the positive, and the best! The cancer is gone.

This year has been very difficult for my son Jonathan, besieged by crippling illness, his adoptive father dying and being in constant pain. With David having cancer surgery, I was only able to see him once. Visiting him was good but feeling so helpless during this time,was not. He is recovered now thankfully and getting back to full health.

I struggled with ill-health throughout the year, it was discovered I have a blocked artery behind my clavicle that leaves me dizzy and makes the blood pressure different in both arms. Might one day have to be stented but not as yet.Marie my youngest had a hard time with a sick husband and life here on the farm was hard. We have 6 ponies and David was not able to see to them as he usually does, so a lot fell to Marie as I couldn’t help very much, but we managed.  During this year I experienced a whole spectrum of emotions that drained me and left me wanting. Something had to change.

The year went on and although hard, I made a decision to go back to my practice as a Psychotherapist. I had been wasting so much time on the things being done to me, missing people who didn’t deserve my time of day, that this, I believed was the right time. A new venture that Cardiff University had piloted and I had been part of that pilot, before the ‘nasties’ took hold, was going to begin in 2018 and I was asked to be part of it. Another positive.

August brought a clear blood test for David another reason to celebrate. It also brought slander and libel again courtesy of my eldest daughter, spreading lies on social media with a forged letter. Bad mouthing me and blackening my name.The letter was supposedly written by my ex husband, and was maligning my name to family and friends. I always doubted its authenticity, as I knew the contents to be untrue but had no proof. I do now. Why did she do this and other nasty things? I don’t know. Every ‘nasty’ she serves me with, has a new reason. This continued for a few months blighting our life here ‘on the farm’. Once again making me ill and causing pain and hurt beyond compare. David was still in recovery and to do the thing she did is unforgivable, knowing what we were going through.

I tried so hard to ignore all of this but couldn’t as it was so painful and unfair. Now, I have decided, that in the New Year, I can no longer allow this and will take the action I promised months ago. Now we are in a better place to do that.

October brought about the death of my husband’s sister which rendered him low. We couldn’t attend the funeral because we had no one to look after our animals. It had been a long time since I had seen my husband so down. We had a little quiet time here to remember her.

During all of this and other things happening, I have poured my heart out on social media and am so grateful for all the love and concern shown me. I also learned that others have suffered at the hands of ‘family’ and my heart goes out to them.

Being the partner of a PC sufferer is not easy. It is unlike other cancers in as much as it changes the whole of your life as a person, it changes your man and changes your relationship sometimes permanently. You can get through, I am hoping we have and I hope anyone reading this will also believe that there is life after PC! Life that can still be filled with love and happiness and yes, humour.

So all in all, parts of 2017 were horrible, if you have read my blog over last year you will hear my struggles, my anger and pain and most of all my fear. A very ‘tiring year’. The ‘F’ word played a huge part in the whole of this year. But it won’t in the next.

Parts of this passing year, have been so good and restored my faith in human nature, especially the groups on Facebook.

My hopes, plans and dreams for 2018.

My hopes.

Firstly more awareness of the horrid disease Prostate Cancer. I hope there will be more research and more new safe treatments. I will promote awareness as often as I can to the point of becoming a nuisance, if it helps save lives!

I hope David’s next PSA test is still undetectable and he can change to yearly tests. I hope that the groups that have helped me so much, remain strong using comfort, understanding, patience and humour to help us all through. I can’t thank you all enough. I will continue to hope that those whose diagnosis is not as good, are kept pain free and given the help and support they need at this awful time. To their wives and partners, I pray 2018 will bring you understanding, patience and the acknowledgement that you also need looking after. Always try to put yourself near the top of your priorities, if you don’t, you won’t be able to be there for your man. Let yourself feel angry. Cry when you need to. Talk to others and gain comfort. Never, never say sorry for the huge emotions you may feel on this journey none of us asked to make. It is okay, you have permission to feel emotions you didn’t know you had. Talk about them to someone who understands, if not, shout them out in capital letters on here or in the group. We all understand.

February will bring an end I hope to the nasty wicked deed done against my brother and I hope the perpetrators get what they deserve. You can’t go around doing things like that and not pay the price.

Plans

As for the nasties done to me and mine. As for the libel etc. I have to lose the fear these things gave me and act. That is all in hand now, I have the proof I need to take this further and because the libel is not just against me, ‘heads will roll’ as they say. I could leave things but I know that at any opportunity in the future, to hurt me, my daughter and sister will act and I can’t spend my life worrying about the next onslaught. ‘But she is your daughter’, I hear some say. Yes I know and I am her Mum and that hasn’t stopped the wicked acts against me and mine. I would never allow anyone else to do the things done to me over the past 4 years, get away with it. I have allowed her. But how much more should I have to take? No, people who need to know will know what she really is like, quite early on in the year. Someone or something has to stop her before things go too far. As my youngest said yesterday, ‘Wow Mum, at last the worm has turned’. Lisa tells me I am no longer her Mum, although this cut through my heart, it that gave me permission to take this further. If you think that wrong, I am sorry but I have only told a tiny bit of what she has done, on here. I was reminded by someone who knew her growing up, that she has always lied and stolen from me, I just wouldn’t accept it, so maybe she hasn’t changed at all, it is just that now I have seen it.

2017 has been unkind, hard and painful as the 3 years previously had. Realisation of the reality, re people, I loved. Accepting mortality of those I love and of myself, loss and worry just ‘got in the way’ of the year. The biggest positive is that David is now ‘cancer free’. In years gone by, PC never had patient’s ‘cancer free’ but our consultant says it happens now and I pray that it happened to us. I ‘met’ some amazing people on my groups, many braver that you might think possible. Some whose faith or religion have and is helping them through. Some whose stubbornness and pragmatism make it possible for them to cope with the illness, side effects etc. with strength and humour. Wives whose lives have been torn apart and my heart hurts for them. I sometimes say, that the before and after PC man, the man with the disease, is still the man he always was. Inside he is the man you loved before and can love again. Sadly sometimes that is not possible. But I think myself one of the lucky ones, David hasn’t changed as some men do. He didn’t have hormone treatment or medication that can change a person’s outlook, feelings etc. For all of these I know how hard 2017 must have been and still is.

In the Spring we are off an another adventure, downsizing and helping Marie with her new exciting project so keeping excitedly busy.

2018 will see me returning to writing. I have 3 books half written so I need the discipline to finish them and I will. The ‘distractions’ of 2017, the way they have left me weak and low, along with worry about my wonderful husband kept me from writing. Also my brother’s failing health and my own poor health, have made it impossible to concentrate, one of the reasons I blog. To offload and to keep my use of words, alive.

So as 2017 is drawing to a close, my thoughts are with you all. For the wider world, I hope for peace, understanding, tolerance and love. ‘Why can’t we just love one another’, I saw on a post with a child crying this out to us all. Yes, but love begins at home, with family and I know how hard that can be.

So as we turn the page on this latest chapter we don’t know what will follow. How our story will pan out. So keep the good memories close to your heart. Do what you think is right as you continue through your story. Don’t be told how to live your life, everyone has their own burdens, their own problems, only you know how to deal with them. Don’t allow bad influences from anyone, including family. Don’t waste any of the precious time you have on those intent on causing you pain. Enjoy your New Year in any way you wish as long as it hurts no one and pleases you.

For me, January will bring some pain, having to face our little dog’s cancer full on. David is having surgery on the 12^th, to remove another cancer but this one not as serious as the last.

Every year as the old year is passing, I say the New Year will bring us less pain, less worry. Do you know what? It hasn’t so far. But another thing I learned over Christmas, looking at why I keep getting hurt, why things keep going wrong, is this.

‘If you always do what you have always done, you will always get what you always got’.

How true is that? I am my own worst enemy. No I can’t stop illness affecting any of us, can’t stop death when the time comes. Can’t look ahead and divert any misfortune coming my way. But I can stop allowing the actions of others to continue to hurt me. Steal my precious time, steal my forward thinking and steal me away from those who love me ‘here on the farm’.

I am one person, with huge limitations on what I can do but I will promise to try. I am back in the bosom of some of my family and am grateful and proud to be there. I have a loving family ‘here on the farm’ and close good friends. I will try my hardest to be a better person and although some of what I will be doing in this New Year may be frowned on by some, I have to make a stand. As I said in my last blog, life will now be made of things I choose, not governed by bullying, threats or in fear of repercussions. I choose this path because I refuse others to determine how I am, how I behave. I choose to take steps to take my life back. To stop accepting from ‘family’, things I would never accept from anyone else. I choose to take control. I pray that Tony is pain-free and stays with is for a while longer. That David and Marie and her husband have good health and all of my SM friends have a better year than last year.

Happy 2018 everyone.

Thanks for reading x

We had snow this week, I so love snow, as some of you already know. The views from my windows are always amazing but in the glistening white they are breathtaking, the ponies in the paddocks playing, the frozen pond and the beautiful trees in all their wintry splendor, reminded me of why I love it here. Snow seems to cleanse the earth and in a way, I suppose, I always hope that  it will cleanse everything painful and nasty, physical and emotional. Perhaps for me it has done this, hence this blog.

Last Christmas, if you have read my blog from then, was a very scary time. David had cancer and we had no idea of the extent or the outcome. It was hard to celebrate, hard to enjoy and so we had a very quiet subdued time, here ‘on the farm’. We had begun 2017, with trepidation around treatment for his Prostate Cancer, the side effects and the outcome. This and the continuing onslaught from family had rendered me incapable of really smiling, even feeling emotions or looking ahead and enjoying life. A very hard time. Early on in the year we had found that my beloved brother had terminal lung cancer, he is now in the final stages. To my horror, in the Spring, I also discovered that he had been defrauded out of a huge amount of money by my own daughter Lisa and my sister Trisha. Disgust and anger, I was able to feel. Shame and guilt also but in this despicable act, they did me a favour. It showed those who they had lied to, about me, what they were really like, how dishonest and nasty they could be. I felt angry and sad yes, but also strangely vindicated.

This past year has brought knowledge, friendship and humour for me, from the various Prostate Cancer groups I joined. Without them this year would have been unbearable and again, I thank you all. I will take a second to say I hope Christmas is the best it can be for those still struggling, a great time for those in the survivors club and peace to those whose Christmas is blighted by this nasty illness in any way. I send love and the hugest of Christmasy hugs to you all.

Up until now, the past 4 Christmas’s have been ruined by my inability to really enjoy the festive season. To be a big part of it as I had always been. I had thrived, in the past, on all the rushing about, the Christmas gift buying, cards, decorations etc. as an adult Christmas gave me such joy, making it a wonderful time for those I love. This changed, after the lies and hatred began, the being shut out of my daughter’s life, and each year I missed my daughter so much, that it spoilt things for me. I missed having her and her family, my grandchildren in  my life and I found it hard to enjoy things without their input. Ever since first becoming a mum, this time of the year filled me with the happiness of giving, of sharing. My years with Terry, Lisa’s dad, we always had the friends who would have spent Christmas alone, round at our place for the day. I loved every minute. Then after Lisa arrived and then 5 years later, Marie, Christmas was my very favourite time of the year. I made sure all the memories of this special time of the year, were happy, ones, full of fun and love. Because  of my own childhood, it was important for me, misconceived I suppose,to give them possibly everything on their lists, sometimes too much but I enjoyed watching them open their presents and seeing the look of happiness on their beautiful little faces. I made it last as long as I possibly could.

Since David came into my life, when Lisa was around 15 and Marie 10, the magic was even stronger, he brought so much love for us all, so much fun and life was complete. Sharing all we had with my children and their subsequent partners was what families should be and ours was. He brought strength, pragmatism, fun, laughter and a silliness that I loved from the beginning. Everyday I have with him and have had for 32 years, is a blessing. He always made us all feel special, even though later in life, Lisa threw it all back in his face. Since becoming a mum, all those years ago, I looked forward to Christmas and enjoyed all the extra work, the secrecy of hiding presents, the decorating the house and the big day, up at some unearthly hour for the children to open their stockings. A magical time ,as I described last week.

But since 2013 things have changed for reasons already written about and my missing those who should have been part of our family Christmas’s, ruined it here for me. I now realise that I was selfish and unfair, I was not able to be fully present to share these times with those here who love me,because of my grief. I was not always able to be part of the festivities, the laughter and joy, that we had always shared at this time. For David, Marie and my friends, I need to get that all back. I am surrounded by love and everyday I pinch myself because my life if allowed, could be that Fairytale I wrote about last year, full of love and special times. I choose from today to get that back and make new beautiful memories that I can share whenever I want to and hold in my heart for ever.

So today is my gift to me. A different Christmas, a new way of being and a fulltime paid up member of ‘Team Wright’, here on the farm. Why waste time of those who don’t want it, deserve it or deserve to be even the tiniest of thoughts in my mind at this or any other time. I will have to think of them next year, out of choice as part of my ‘fighting back’ but not today, not this week, not any other Christmas . I am no longer wasting precious time on looking back at wishing life was different. Life is sometimes hard but it will be happy as it should be, I owe David that, I owe Marie that and I owe Carol Ann. I have been told, by Lisa, I am no longer her mum, Okay, that allows me to move on without believing I should forgive her everything wicked she has done. As her Mum, I did this, too often, now I don’t have to . So in a way, another favour gratefully received.

Today I choose to leave the ‘ positive action,’ I mentioned last week, until 2018.

My Christmas gift to my family here, is this. I am choosing not to miss those who have chosen to give me nothing but pain these past years. I choose not to wish things were different, that I wasn’t shut out of their lives. I am. Fact! And do you know what? After everything thrown at me, that’s okay.

I am choosing not to go out into my paddocks on Christmas day and allow myself, in private, the grief I felt for losing my daughter and her family, as I have done these past 4 years. But not this year, my inability in the past, to enjoy my Christmas’s, must I am sure, spoiled the day for those here, so this year it will be different. I intend to make Christmas as I always did, happy, full of joy and full of love. My real Christmas with those who want to be part of it.

I am choosing to wish a Merry Christmas, even to those who don’t deserve it and to concentrate on those here, who love me and deserve so much more than I have been giving.

Today with our tree looking beautiful, the gifts below given with love, the decorations almost finished, I looked around and smiled. Christmas is full of memories but I choose to look at the good ones, the happy ones with the people and animals who have shown me what real love is. David is well, Marie is happy and so that makes me happy too .

Today,I choose to be happy.

Christmas will still hold memories of two little girls, loved and who loved me, happy times full of laughter and fun . Yes those memories will always be there but I won’t allow them to come into my life this year unless they make me smile. Any other memories are banished. I need to gain strength to see this through and I am sure after this past year, that I can. I will be, from today a different person. I choose to be stronger and show that trying to hurt me anymore is futile. I have new armour. Armour those who hurt me have no idea of. New strength gained in the knowledge of now having the truth on my side. I will use this early in 2018.

So much has been stolen from us,  here ‘on the farm’, intruded on our peace. A cancer with a little ‘c’; bullying and lies from ‘family’ and all of this stole our joy.  Apart from the worry about my beloved brother Tony, I intend to find the joy this year, find it and keep it close for the year to come. These are my choices and I feel able to keep them in place. Yes I will remember this past year with pain at times but also with the huge relief that David is considered cancer free, we made it out the ‘other side’,what better gift could we have wanted that that.

Love makes memories. Whether the love of a child, the love of a partner or a sibling. Love makes the memories that we hold dear. The old ones will never disappear but we can choose which ones come into our minds and are allowed to linger. The rest we can push away and if necessary deal with them at another time. I intend to make happy memories to look back on, this time next year. This Christmas and every one in the future.

Not sure if I will blog next week but in case I don’t, have a happy Christmas all of you. Love those around you and hold them dear. Have fun, give love and share whatever you have that makes you happy. But most important in all, make happy memories to look back on this time next year.

Thanks for reading xx