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Well here we are, February 3rd, Tony’s birthday. Hard day, sad day. For those who have not read earlier blogs, Tony was my beloved brother. The only member of my birth family who cared about me as a little girl, although he knew nothing about the fear and pain I suffered at the hands of my abuser. I used to try to stay around with him because he was ‘mum’s favourite and I stupidly thought some of her love for him would rub off on me. Tony was the one family member who has always been there, through thick and thin as adults.He loved my daughters and helped me when Lisa was older and life became hard, he loved us both and made things right when they could have been so wrong. He shared my joy, especially when my first book was published and later after I had ‘told it all’ in my autobiography. Was so proud of me when I gained my Masters, he couldn’t stop smiling.He often acted like my parent but being my brother was all I wanted. Losing him was like losing part of me. Who would I now share early memories with? Who would understand when I spoke of our dysfunctional family.? Who would now actually have the ability to make me laugh at some of the things that had been so sad when we were young? No one. I no longer have my brother.

I can’t actually remember last year, February 3rd. I do remember thinking, just before his birthday, that I should have been choosing a present and card but was instead choosing flowers for his funeral. That just wasn’t right.It was so close to his goodbye, so close to accepting his going, although I am still not sure I have done that yet.The previous year, the year before he died had been a horrible time for him and for all of us who loved him. I have written about this in blogs before, not only because we knew he was dying but because he had been so horribly betrayed by ‘family’ members, in the cruelest of ways.  His last year was spent worried about money stolen from him and concerned about his children having to pay for his funeral. All of this made that last year, when he should have been trying to rest and just ‘be’ within the cruel confines  of cancer, so much harder. 

Tony had been ill for a while and latterly in pain and this led, for me anyway, to confusion in my grief. I didn’t want him suffering, I would never want that but didn’t want him to go. I needed him here, wanted him here, loved him so much that couldn’t imagine how I would cope without having him in my life.I knew his illness couldn’t be cured, didn’t want him to linger in pain  but didn’t want him to go. Selfish? Yes. But grief is selfish isn’t it. Through-out my life we would call each other when things were rough, when things went wrong, when we were scared, any time we felt we needed to. When David was diagnosed with Prostate cancer, I rang Tony. We also shared the good times, telling each other of lovely things that had happened, it wasn’t only the bad things we shared.At these times though,I don’t know how but he reassured me, comforted me and yes, made me laugh. He always had that ability. All of this when  he was fighting cancer himself. So his dying was for me a huge blow. I just couldn’t imagine how that would feel. I do now.

Of course I am glad he is no longer hurting, no longer sick, confined to a bed, as he had been for many months. But. I wanted him here, as he had always been. Tony my big bear, my brother, my friend.I suppose I just wanted him back as he used to be, Making us all laugh, comforting us, speaking so much common sense and just being Tony. A great loss to all of those who loved him. So yes, selfish I suppose.

The first year after you lose someone close, someone you love, is the hardest, at least that is what I tell my clients. The ‘first’s’ of everything  without them. My first birthday not having a phone-call. The first Christmas not searching for a gift and card for him, not ringing him to say Happy Christmas. His first birthday, at least for  me,as I can’t remember the last one, a few days before we said goodbye to him last year, that I couldn’t ring and wish him a Happy Birthday. All the times I picked up the phone when something good happened, to tell him. The many times I just wanted to say Hello to my brother and still do this. All these times, when the mind plays tricks on me and I have momentarily forgotten , is like losing him all over again.I am pleased for him as I said, but heartbroken for me. How selfish is that! But as I said before, grief is selfish. We cry for ourselves most of the time.

Grief  confuses me. When will it stop? Or maybe, when it will it begin? I am not sure I have grieved, at least not properly if there is such a thing.If what I teach is right, maybe now, with all the 1st anniversaries over, I will allow myself the right to do this. Maybe then life will return to a normal I can accept. A new normal, a new self as it says above. A Carol Ann without her brother.Tony would want that. He always told me when we spoke of his illness, his imminent death that  ‘it’s okay love. I ‘m okay’. Well it wasn’t okay and I am not okay but I will try. As it says in the picture, I will try to find the new me, the one without my brother. Last year I lost 2 of the most important men in my life.2 men who influenced my life more than either of them knew. A horrid year.But I must think of myself as lucky, lucky to have had the love they gave and to have been able to love them as I did.

I hope, as my FB friend, the late Mark Bradford assured me, that there is a Heaven. I used to believe but lost my faith years ago, but I hope if there is such a place and that Tony is having a ball. That he is dancing and singing and making all of those who went before him, laugh, as only Tony could. Happy Birthday big bear and I will sign off this part with the words you always used just before leaving, or ending a phone call. Loves you x

The 2nd part as in the title.

The ‘F’ is back big time. I thought it had left me for good. I have worked hard at not worrying, not dwelling on things as I said last week but it’s back. It is time for David to have his 2 year PSA test. It is actually late, what with everything that has gone on ‘here on the farm’, the issues with my family, my daughter and latterly with my health, it was missed. We had both understood, incorrectly, that the hospital would contact us. How did we get that so wrong? I was looking through my old diaries and saw the date and realised we had missed it. Looking in David’s medical file I saw that the hospital had given us a blood form, to take to our GP to have the test done and then the hospital would inform us of the result. Remote monitoring apparently.How did we think differently? We must have been given this information. I must have put the blood report in David’s folder. How could we have ‘forgotten’ this information? I don’t know but we did. Now here’s the rub. After feeling my tummy, experience that all too familiar churning that came throughout David’s tests, diagnosis, surgery, I realised that our old ‘friend’ fear had returned. Losing Tony and then my ‘Dad, last year,having a poorly dog and poorly pony and then my being ill, we had somehow missed the date. Such a huge ‘miss’, such a huge mistake and I am confused as to how we missed it. Then I stopped  in my tracks. An awful thought entered my head. Could it be that I didn’t want to remember? Could it be that I had cancelled cancer with a little ‘c’ out of our lives after being told that it had little chance of returning, as the margins were clear and the PSA so far had been undetectable? Did I become complacent, or over hopeful? Who knows. Or even worse. Am I that selfish? Was my own fear of losing the man I love, so strong that I was willing to push this out of my mind and pretend? How could that help him? Did we want to go back to the worry, the fear of having the test, the waiting time and then fearing the result? Of course we didn’t, don’t. But putting my head in the sand is not useful is it, so unlike me. I like to confront and deal with anything that threatens us as a family .I am ashamed to say that I am not sure how this happened, us missing the date and yes, wanting PC to be a thing in the past, is of course something I wanted, but the genuine ‘mistake’  on the dates and procedure, is so unbelievable and so not like us as a couple, just shows me the strain we have been under.But after discovering this error, what I do know, is that I was tempted to keep this new discovered knowledge to myself and that would have been so wrong.So tempted but didn’t and told David of what I had found.

After talking about how we could have got things so wrong, I left it to my husband to make the decision re having the test. As if there was a choice! David said he wondered if just leaving things as they are, not knowing but hoping for the best was the right thing to do.That it had entered his head to leave things as they were. I wanted to scream, ‘Yes, don’t have it. Leave it as it is. Don’t have another test’. My heart ruling my head. The fear of knowing, seemed worse than not knowing, so unlike me. I wanted to forget PC had ever touched our lives, haven’t we enough to deal with ?But I also knew that whatever he decided I would be there, at his side supporting him. Holding my breath and watching him, I heard him say, ‘make me another appointment love, I’ll have the test’. My heart sank. But it is his decision and I know in my heart really, the right one.So I will.

Cancer has stolen my brother last year as I have said earlier in my blog, it has stolen so many people in my life and so many lives of friends I have known and friends I have made on social media. Losing 2 of the most loved and important men in my life, this past year, I can’t lose THE most important man. So a test it is! 

But what if it is raised? What if the cancer is back or still there? What if …….Yes the ‘what ifs’ are back with a vengeance.  Whatever the result we will face it together. David, my rock and me.I found my old self last week, having had the health scare, the strong Carol Ann and I need to find her and keep her here. As for worrying, where does that get you? No where except ill. I know that for a fact, so will not worry until I have something to worry about. Then I will use every bit of resolve I have to not worry then either. So watch out Fear, you will not win!

Note:

For those of you grieving , take as long as you need. Don’t let anyone hurry you. Take out the memories of your loved one and cherish them, let them comfort you. Don’t deny them because they hurt. Yes they will but eventually they will heal. I make this mistake but from today, I will remember and smile. I was lucky to have the love of Tony and you were lucky to have the love you had with your husband/partner/ loved one.No-one had steal your memories.

As for facing the unknown, the fear of what if: the love you share will see you through. 

Thank  you for reading x

 

Christmas last year was a bit of a struggle, I can admit that now. But it was good, quiet, scaled down but good. We had sick animals and I acknowledged that I was not up to par and so kept thing slow key. I hadn’t realised how unwell I was, unwell and sad. This was to be the first Christmas when I couldn’t ring Tony, my brother or my ‘Dad’. I couldn’t get my brother out of my mind, we were approaching the first anniversary of his death and the Christmas before we had all been waiting for cancer to steal him from us. A horrid time and association is a strong force, everything I did for the ‘silly season’ reminded me of the year before. I knew I was struggling with my own grief, anticipatory grief for my dogs and a sick pony, but unaware of just how low I had become.

A few days after the 4th January, the date of the anniversary of Tony’s death, I had to relent and see my GP. A few days later I saw an out of hours doctor who diagnosed pneumonia, and added to the antibiotics and steroids I  had already started, ones kept at home as a rescue pack because of my having brittle Asthma. He gave me other meds to drain off the fluid in my lungs and chest and said I had to go home to bed.I was feeling awful at this stage but didn’t want to go to hospital because of leaving my sick dog.Not because I didn’t think any one else could care for her but because, as she is living on borrowed time and I have promised her I would be there at the end.But 2 days later, after a night of not being able to breathe in or out, even after using a nebuliser hourly,I was rushed to hospital very ill.

After receiving excellent care in Hospital and being monitored 24/7, receiving intravenous antibiotics, steroids and other medicines, I was told that my Asthma was out of control. My  peak flow that should be around 370 was less than 100. A warning sign that I had not taken notice of, didn’t have the time!I had been using my reliever everyday, many times and had not thought it was Asthma, didn’t feel the same but I was told by the consultant, that was because it had crept up on me over the years and the condition had become chronic, my everyday, my norm. This all made so much sense, the reason for my tiredness, my lethargy and feeling generally not right. Why didn’t I see it? Maybe I didn’t give myself time to think about it, think about me. Too busy trying to reunite my family, worry about David, my animals etc. I don’t know.

I was seen by the top respiratory consultant and asked if anything had changed of late, my life style etc. If the symptoms had been with me for a long time. If I had had any stress or worry of late. If I could have spoken, I would have asked ‘how long have you got’? But I was too ill and breathless to speak, so David spoke for me. He told the doctor of the worry and stress of the past few years, family stuff, not in detail just  that we had been through a lot via family, my eldest daughter and sister, losing my contract, estranged from my grandchildren. David having Prostate cancer and a few of the deaths we, as a family, had suffered. He told them of my being rushed to A&E just before his surgery,where they found the blocked artery in my neck. They had also said at that time,that I was very stressed and some of my symptoms suggested that. David said he had seen me fading and had mentioned seeing our GP but as I went every week for blood tests, he thought they would say something. The consultant said that stress in someone with lungs like mine could cause a great deal of damage, being tense puts a strain on your heart and lungs. He felt that everything that has happened had worn me down, slowly affecting my lungs and my immune system without my realising it. I knew myself how I felt, how all of the past few years had rendered me low, weak and feeling broken. I have written of that on here, in my blog. Emotional heartache can be dangerous, as can unresolved grief, we internalise these feelings and that takes a toll on out physical being. I knew all of this in my client work but had ignored what was happening to me. I had written at the end of last year, on these pages, that I would not do this anymore, that I would put myself first, no longer allow others to affect my life or my well-being. But the damage was too far gone by then.I am now under his care and will soon be having more tests on my lungs and a plan made for the future.

During my illness, from which I am still recovering, I began to realise that life is not governed by the stars etc. That even to some extent, is not governed just by me. In my life, things that have happened, things I have done, decisions I have made have always been influenced by and sometimes determined by others. As  child I was controlled by the woman they called my mother. Leaving me in danger with little and mostly no protection or love. Leaving me with life long legacies detrimental to my well-being.

As a Mum my children were my priority, my consideration in any decision I made and rightly so. I worked where I could and sacrificed very good jobs that would have taken me away from them, something I could never have done. Mum’s do this, or rather good mum’s do this without question or regret. My girls always came first.So thinking of them determined where life took me.

All of our lives we do things to please family, friends and sometimes society. My mistake is that I have always allowed others to influence me too much, I have always been afraid of upsetting people, seeming selfish, when really that’s what I should have been many times. Recently, or rather the past few years, I have spent so much energy fighting for my good name against libel that was being spread about me. Reacting to the actions of others instead of responding as a better person.Too much time, trying to get my family back on track and since losing Tony and seeing things in a different light, trying hard to make things right with my eldest daughter and grandsons, that I have rendered myself very low and very sick. I had tried and tried to have her back in our family where she belongs, at first I thought we were going to be okay, and then I pushed it too far. My birth family are now back where they should be, just as Tony had always wanted, part of my family. But needing too much, in her eyes, from my daughter, has left us still estranged. I just needed to know why she had done the things she had done, how she could do those things as she was now telling me how she loved and missed me.She couldn’t do this as there was no reason but I do understand, that all the lies she and her aunt have told everyone they knew, about me, how  hard, almost impossible for this breach to be mended. Without admitting all the lies told, it can’t happen. The difference today is, I know this. I almost understand it, don’t like it but understand it and must now accept it.It breaks my heart as it is so wrong and so shouldn’t have happened, but I have to live with that. In order to rebuild myself, my health, my self-worth, I have to let it go.

Maybe I thought I was invincible. What I did know was I was too busy worrying to be ill. Too much to think about, try and put right. How wrong. How stupid.

So to the reason for today’s blog.

For those of you who know the stress and worry, the sadness,anger and hurt, that illness such as the one we all are part of, Prostate cancer with a little c, can give us, I want to offer some suggestions, not advice as I should not presume to do that but some suggestions. Nurse, care for and look after your man, give him everything you are capable of giving him but please don’t neglect yourself in the process. You are no good to him if , like me, you render yourself ill. Whatever the outcome of this nasty disease, acknowledge how it has affected you. How life might have changed. Acknowledge grief for part of your life you may have lost. Whilst doing this, love your man through it all and give yourself some self care.A bit of advice I was given in training, about this, helping others. Make sure you have your own oxygen mask on before you try to place one on the person you are caring for. Otherwise it might be too late and you both could perish.Love your man but also love yourself. PC affects us both the same amount, just in  different ways.

For any of you and I know there are some, who have been badly treated by others, especially by family, tell yourself that they way they hurt you, says more about them and their lives than it says about you and yours.

For those who have people they love, walk away, walk out of your life, don’t make yourself ill by trying to make sense of it all, to try and find the ‘why’ or the ‘how’. Most of the time they don’t have either. Let them go. If they want to come back in, you will be there but in a better place if you stop trying. If they don’t want to come back, there is nothing you can do about it, accept and move on.Don’t keep trying to make something right that only you want. You will just make yourself ill.

Lastly, for anyone grieving or needing to grieve, give yourself time. Allow your tears, your sadness, your anger and hurt. Vent, shout, scream and cry as much as you need until all the grief is spent. Unspent grief can cause untold damage. Don’t feel guilty when you first laugh again, first smile, first time you actually enjoy something. Don’t let grief steal any more than it has to. There is no set time. Grief will take as long as it takes.

Finally, for all reading this, we need to value ourselves more, not by how others see us but for who we are, only we really know that, who we are I mean. We need to appreciate how others, how life can hurt us, cause us pain and sadness, all part of life. All mostly out of our control but we can control how we react.It’s all part of what makes us human. Unresolved grief, pain, hurt and anger will only be forced inside of us and cause us even more damage. Let’s not allow that, we are all worth so much more.The most important thing we need to remember,or I need to remember more than most, something this illness has brought home to me is this. The here and now is all we have. Stop looking back, worrying about tomorrow, let’s just live and enjoy today.Look after you and don’t let anything prevent you from doing that. It is not selfish, it is essential.For those we have loved and lost, we swill always have our memories and no one can steal those from us.

Thank you for reading x

 

 

 

This is not a blog, just a note to those who have been kind enough to ask after me. I will write a blog later this week, body allowing.

 

I am out of hospital now having been rushed in with pneumonia after a chest infection that exacerbated my brittle Asthma. I was seriously ill but didn’t realise until it was almost too late.

Lots of those I know have had this nasty virus and I have had my flu and pneumonia jab, so was confused as to why I was so ill. The consultant, a respiratory man who I am now under and have future tests etc, asked if I had been under any stress of late. If I had been well enough I would have said ‘how long have you got’! I was however not able to talk so my darling husband David told of the years of ‘bullying’ by my eldest daughter and sister, the loss of my beloved brother and my ‘Dad’. He also said that although I had tried hard to put things right with Lisa my daughter, she had not been willing to meet me half way. He also said I was heartbroken at this.David knows how often I have cried myself to sleep over her and my grandchildren. He alos told the consultant of how worried I was with David having Prostae cancer and although now undetectable, how I still worry.Mr Hattashe felt that being under so much worry, he only knows half, had put me in danger and exacerbated the Asthma, without my realising. Then the chest infection not responding to antibiotics , the pneumonia set in.

But I am home, still very weak, very unwell but this has been a huge wake up call for me. I have to make changes, some I talked about in my December blog , last year. I have no choice, I have to change my mindset and begin to pout myself first, or at least somewhere close.

 

So thank you to every one who has pm’s me, emailed me, comments on my page. I am almost back. Bouncing back hasn’t happened this time, but it will.

I hope you are all well and will be writing again very soon.

Thank you for reading x

 

For me, today is a day for remembering. 2018 began very badly for me. After years of fear, hurt and family betrayal, I had, back in 2017 hoped the next year would be full of hope and promise but as the year drew to a close I knew it would not end on a good note. My beloved brother was at the end of his life and about to leave us, his family with an -unfillable void. He did see the New Year in, at his home as he had wanted, surrounded by his daughters and grand-daughter and I was at the end of the phone, being kept updated on what was unfolding. Tony and I had a dream, to see the Northern lights, we never achieved that dream but his son took a video film of them and showed them ,on New Year’s eve,  on the ceiling of my brother’s room, just above his head, so he could remain lying down to watch this amazing phenomenon. He loved it. He left us on January 4th 2018. I had spoken with him everyday up until the day he died. He still felt so hurt and confused as to what had unfolded in his last year and sad that someone so close could cause so much pain, knowing he was dying. I had no answers, I just listened and reassured him as much as I could. I wasn’t able to visit, living so far away and having commitments, he understood but it is still my biggest regret. The loss I still feel is immeasureable. I did manage to have an animal sitter and made it to the funeral, a celebration of my brother’s life by the huge number of people who loved him. It was, if it could be, a beautiful day in every way. Sad but beautiful. 

As the year began to unfold, life ‘on the farm’ continued and I tried hard to grieve but didn’t seem able to accept my loss. David has continued to heal from the onslaught of Prostate cancer and surgery to remove the ‘nasty’ that threatened his life and our happiness.  I blogged as I always have, every Sunday; of our life here ‘warts an all’, my husband’s progress, my fears and family stuff. I received many comments and messages re the content and was pleased that my posts were still able to help some of the group members and also friends I have made over Social media. I sadly watched, as one after another of our new friends, members of the groups I belong to ,lost their fight against this evil disease that robs our men of their lives and us of them. Each time my heart turns somersaults, ‘there but for the Grace of God etc.’. I felt for the partners, wives, families and knew we had been lucky to have caught this cancer with a little ‘c’, early enough to stop its spread. I value every member of all the groups I am part of, people have been so kind and tolerant of my rantings,One member I became very close to, if SM can bring you close, was Mark Bradford. He blogged about his life, the cancer, his imminent death and mostly,his faith. We commented on eah other’s blog and post. I wrote privately to Mark and he learned a great deal about my life, having read my autobiography, and I his. His words of encouragement, his great faith and dignity helped me through the early days. Sadly Mark lost his fight, or maybe he didn’t. He believed in a life after death and so perhaps he won his fight because of the dignified way he died, still believing. God bless you my friend. I continue to blog, partly on the groups about my continuing journey, one none of asked to make and keep up to date with posts from other members. I have learned so much from being part of groups with issues like mine and will be eternally grateful.

As some of you know, I have tried to make things right with my estranged daughter and my grandchildren but failed. Well I didn’t actually fail, Lisa said she loved me, she missed me but couldn’t tell me why she did the things she did and because I wanted to know, had to know, she did what she always does and shut me out again. So I didn’t fail. I will always love her and my grandchildren but have to do this from afar. I had wanted to send cards and gifts but knew I couldn’t. Then at the last-minute I sent a Christmas card, through an online retailer because it was too late to send by mail but heard nothing. I sent greetings to my eldest grandson to whom I had been very close, but nothing.He had wanted to come down and see us, we were about to arrange this but nothing happened. I accept he is in a diffcult position if his Mum is not talking to me.So I now have to accept, but more about that later.

In April, David’s eldest sister died and again, we were unable to go to the funeral.Another regret. Our little dog Ellie Mae has cancer and is now not as self-assured as she was. Our little boy Cody is deaf and almost blind. Both are still very happy but can’t be left, so we don’t leave them. Hence not being able to get away.In September I lost the man I called Dad. Since I was 6 years old, his daughter, also called Carol and I have been lifelong besties. As a child, he and Claire his wife, my friends mum looked after me as much as they were allowed. I have spoken of this in other blogs. In early adulthood, discovering the truth about my childhood,some things they had suspected, they asked me to look on them as my Mum and Dad. I was proud to do this. Sadly Mum died a few years ago and now Dad has joined her.Another regret, not able to attend the funeral to say goodbye. But lifeis like that, it gets in the way at times.

Many losses. During 2016-7 my name had been maligned, my extended family had been told libelous stories about my life and my daughter, for some insane reason, had believed it all. I was then shut out of my family. I will never know how she, Lisa, believed made up stories from someone who had not been in our lives for more than 40 years, who didn’t know Lisa and didn’t know of my life either.I couldn’t and still don’t understand how my daughter believed lies that were so far-fetched, if not so serious would have been  laughable and the content illegal, because she must have memories of her early life, a happy life, with me and then her sister. The person who told her these horrific lies,  is a very capable liar and was sadly believed. I was not there to tell it as it was. Hence the beginning of this blog a few years ago.  But Lisa did believe it because it suited her at the time and punished me for it, over and over in the cruelest manner.  My literary career was damaged for a short period by them both and my eldest daughter’s birthright had been lied about in the worst possible manner by my youngest sister, I have written about this on this blog. So all in all, the past few years have not been good. At the end of 2017, I stayed up to say goodbye to the old year and hello to 2018, wanting to see the old year die. Hoping the new would be kinder to us all. It wasn’t. Another sad sad year. 

But that was then.

This is now.

What I learned:

I learned that people in general are kind and caring as I discovered on Facebook, particularly in the Prostate cancer groups I am a member of. 

I learned to accept that things are as they are. I cannot change things that are not in my control. I cannot make things right if others are happy with them being wrong.

I have to accept that damage done cannot always be repaired and have to live with that.

I have to accept that I cannot make someone say sorry, or even accept their part in an issue unless they are willing to do this.

I also know I need to appreciate what I have and not hanker for what I don’t.

I have also learned that in general, people are kind, thoughtful and caring.

What I lost:

The biggest losses are Lisa, my grandchildren and Tony and my Dad. Huge holes in my life, nothing will fill them. I have to accept this and grieve, then let go.The losses of friends I have met, both on SM and in real life. Value what they brought to the relationship, grieve and move on.

What I have received:

Friendship that has no bounds, particularly on social media, particularly among fellow PC members. They have shown me love, understanding,kindness and tolerance. Thank you all.I hope 2017 is better than you are expecting and easier on all of us.

I have received unfaltering love and support from my husband, my youngest daughter and close friends. Worth so much.

2019 will, I know be met with trepidation and worry ‘here on the farm’.Oliver Dancer, my pony is very sick and we will, after Thursday, know whether we have to make the heartbreaking decision to let him go. Ellie Mae’s cancer has grown so much over the past few weeks,that we know she has very limited time before we will have to make the same decision for her. Our little boy Cody is 13 now, a good age for a Shih-tzu and is showing his age. He relies on Ellie, she is his ears and eyes and I dread what will happen when the time comes to let her go. Luther our remaining black cat is slowing down, has Arthritis and is now almost 17 so we also have that worry. Life is like that isn’t  it. Never deals you one blow at a time. My friend Mark B would say, that God only gives you as much as you are able to take. I think he over estimates me at times! But I hope we will handle it as we usually do. With fortitude, courage and love.

But with all of this in mind, my first new years resolution is to let go. To concentrate on those here, my husband and daughter and my animals. I have good friends, some geographically away from me but still close emotionally. I am intent on making this a good year, at least, I will  endeavour to make it one. I have so much to be thankful for. Davids recovery, the love from him and my daughter. The years of love I have had from all the animals I love, even if I lose them, I have had that love and given them love. Made wonderful memories. That has to be good doesn’t it. I intend to spend the year, loving those who love me, those who will accept love from me. Accept the things I can’t change and enjoy my memories of how things were. No one can steal those from me. I will forgive most of those who have hurt me and my family, not all, but most. Forgive those who turned their back on me and say ‘it’s okay’. I forgive you.Not only for them but for myself. I will finish my book for PC. Write my novel, revamp my children’s book and get them all published. Bit ambitions but will give them all a good try!

New year’s resolutions? To eat the damn cake, drink the wine and dance the dance. But most of all, in the circumstances I find myself in, ‘Let it hurt. Then let it go’.Happy New Year to you all. Thank you for reading.x

 

 

 

 

 

I am not blogging today, this is just a little thing I wanted to say in the blog earlier this week. You all know how my blogging journey began and most have followed it through all the horrid things that have happened to us, to me in the past 6 years. You have listened, commented and shared my words and for that I am so grateful. Some of you have said my blog resonates with your own life, that some of the things that I wrote about, you understood as they had happened to you. Not the family stuff but the doubts, the fears and sadness that accompany us on the journey with Prostate Cancer, that was a big part of my story on here. Many ladies wrote and shared their own journey, in private messages and emails and I  want to Thankyou all. There is nothing worse for a writer than to spend time putting their thoughts down on paper and have no response. I am glad that most weeks I receive many pm’s etc.

Some of you have recently read my life story, my first book and I Thankyou for comments made on Amazon, Kobo etc. I hope it helped you understand some of the things I wrote each week on here. Helped you see the little girl behind the woman, especially when struggling my way through  the PC journey. Yes I made mistakes, I shouted, raved, cried and screamed. I hope it helped you understand my need for honesty, my need for belonging and my need to share. I hope so. The journey we all travelled or are travelling, is a hard bitter and sometimes brutal journey and those still travelling have all my love and thoughts. It can also be a very lonely journey as it was for me and without support from my readers and Facebook group members I would not have pulled through as strong as I am. You will make it, not always the best outcome but you will get through.

Since 2016 I have made hundreds of FB friends and friends on other social media sites and although we have never met, or most of them I haven’t met, I still class you all as friends. Where would I have been if I hadn’t been able to come on here, in my study and pour my heart out to you all. You read, heard my pain, my worry and fear and expressed your likes, love, smiles and comments, taking time to write to me.Thankyou.

I have read other blogs on here, Dan Cole and Mark Bradford particularly and they will always have  place in my heart. Sadly we lost Mark and yes, like you all, I miss him so much.

This year has brought sadness beyond compare ‘here on the farm’. Tony my big bear of a brother sadly died in January. David’s sister Sheila died in the Spring. The man who asked me to call him Dad, died  late Summer. So much missing this year. My family in Hampshire will have another Christmas without me but I hope it is  a good one, especially for my daughter Lisa and my grandsons Harrison and Jordan and grand-daughter Hannah. I hope Lisa carries on the traditions I gave her, stockings, full of silly things, mince-pie for Santa and a drink for his reindeer. I hope they think of us here but it doesn’t matter if they don’t, I will say a silent Happy Christmas to them all. I tried to mak eit right an dfailed. I can do no more. Life is too short. Hurt and pain have no place at my table anymore. I will make sure of that.

So I am writing to say Thankyou to you all and hope the run up to the ‘big day’ is exciting but smooth. Happy and Peaceful and that you all love those around you and tell them so.

Thankyou for reading. x

“We were all encouraged to send notes up the chimney for Santa, I was told to put what I really wanted on the note. One year, when I was nine or ten, I asked Santa for a bicycle. Tony, Georgina and June all had bicycles and Patricia was still too young for one at the age of four. As we came downstairs that Christmas morning, I peeked out the kitchen door and saw two large, bicycle-shaped presents all wrapped up in Christmas paper. One was bigger than the other. My heart leapt in excitement. I knew Tony had asked for a new bike, so the bigger one must be for him while the smaller one was for me. I thought of all the things I would do on my bike: cycling round to Claire’s house, whizzing downhill with the wind in my hair. At last I was being given what I had asked for, the first time this had happened.! Mum must care about me after all.

After breakfast, we went into the best room. I was so excited. We emptied our stockings first, then Mum started bringing in the bigger presents. First of all she brought in the larger bicycle-shaped present and gave it to Tony. He leapt for joy and couldn’t get the wrapping paper off fast enough. I was so happy for him, not only because I loved my brother, but also because I was anticipating my own joy in the following few minutes. Then it happened.

Mum spoke to my little sister: ‘Watch the doorway, Patricia We have a very special present for you.’

My little sister stood up and watched as Dad brought in the second bicycle-shaped present. My heart lurched as he placed it next to her. It was a bike, a too-big-for-her bike. My bike.

I felt heavy, devastated, heart-broken. I looked at Mum and realised she was watching me with a strange smile on her face, enjoying my disappointment. I looked away again quickly, trying to pretend I hadn’t seen, but that look stayed in my mind.

She had won again.

She really didn’t love me.

Nana B, Dad’s mum, reached out and gave me a quick hug, perhaps sensing my disappointment even though I tried not to let it show. My nans were lovely people but neither of them dared stand up to Mum, and that meant that they didn’t dare be too openly affectionate to me in front of her.

There was another Christmas when Mum lifted my hopes only to dash them again. I had asked for a life-size baby doll that I’d seen for sale in town. I only had one doll, Suzie, but I loved her and spent a lot of time bathing, dressing and pretending to feed her. Then I fell in love with the life-size doll, a boy doll, as soon as I saw it.

One of my jobs around the house was to make Mum’s bed, and the week before Christmas, as I moved her bedside table to tuck in the sheet, I spotted a box. A baby-doll-sized box. Of course I knew I shouldn’t look. But I did. I was only a little girl doing grown-up chores, and I couldn’t resist. As I lifted the lid, I could see the glowing china face and painted hair. Post-war, dolls had painted-on hair, not hair you could touch and comb like today’s dolls. He was beautiful. I wanted to lift him out of the box and hold him in my arms. I wanted to make his eyes open to see if they were blue. I wanted them to be blue. Not that that would have mattered – they could have been any colour and I’d have loved him.

I was beside myself with excitement as Christmas approached. None of the others liked dolls. My sisters were far too old and Patricia was a tomboy, more interested in outdoor games. The doll had to be for me. It couldn’t be for anyone else.

Christmas morning finally came and we were all summoned to the ‘best room’. Mum brought in a large parcel for my brother first and he opened it to find a metal racing car painted in bright colours. He was thrilled with it and I was happy for him. Then in came my dad, carrying the box. Although it was wrapped in Christmas wrapping, I knew it held the china doll. I half-stood up, ready for him to hand it to me, and then I heard Mum’s words and I froze.

‘This is your main present,’ she said to my little sister. ‘Come and see what we’ve bought you. You’ll love it.’

She glanced over at me, looking for my reaction, her eyes narrowed, as the box was placed on the floor in front of the child who didn’t like dolls. The child who hadn’t asked for a doll.

My little sister opened the parcel and said a polite thank you. I held my breath. Perhaps they had another baby doll. Perhaps they would bring mine in next. Perhaps … perhaps I’d got it wrong again. Perhaps I wasn’t to get one. Perhaps I was right the first time. After all the other presents had been handed out, and my sister had tossed the baby doll aside, my dad came in holding another package.

‘This is for you, Carol,’ he said. ‘I made it specially.’

I didn’t dare look at Mum in case she spoiled the moment. I ran over to him and took the parcel in my arms.

‘How dare you have a present for her! ’ Mum screamed. ‘How dare you do this in secret, without my permission? I never said you could, did I?’

For the first time in my life, I ignored Mum’s angry words. I took the gift Dad was handing me and unwrapped it to find a beautiful, hand-made pink cot. A doll’s cot. A cot for Suzie. I’d asked for a cradle the Christmas before and hadn’t got it. Dad must have remembered and decided to make me one out in his shed. I thought he’d been spending a lot of time out there, and on a couple of occasions when I’d gone out to visit him I’d been disappointed that he didn’t let me in. This must be why! He’d been making me a cot. I loved it. I loved him. I stood up and thanked him, with tears in my eyes.

But before I could fetch Suzie to show her the new bed, Mum, who was outraged, lifted this beautiful cot, the cot my Dad had spent evening after evening making. “She lifted it high in the air without a thought for anyone, without even looking at it properly, and she threw it against the wall. It shattered into lots of pink splintery pieces. What was left in her hand, she hurled at me.

‘Did you really think I would let you have a present that had been made in deceit? Did you really expect me to let you have a present that you hadn’t asked for or deserved?’ Her voice was full of hate. ‘It’s shoddy, and made of painted tomato boxes. It’s shabby and cheap. And although you don’t deserve anything better, you won’t have it, I’ll make sure of that!’

I stood rooted to the spot, looking at her, then looking at Dad, and feeling numb. Did she really just do that? Was I seeing things? Did what I thought just happened, happen? Yes, it did, she had.

I must have done something very bad to deserve this mother. What had I ever done to her? Why did she hate me so much?

I would have loved that cot. The cot that my dad had worked on for weeks. The cot he made to make things better for me. But now there was no cot. Now there were broken bits of pink painted wood all over the best room floor.

No one moved.

No one spoke.

The room was silent. All you could hear were my tiny shivery sobs. “

There is a great deal said today about poverty and homeless children and rightly so. But we must also be aware that there are many children whose Christmas’s are not as they should be. Children in families where they are not loved or wanted. Sounds horrid? Yes but sadly true. Don’t be fooled by adults showing generosity to others, festive spirit abounding and lavish decorations and lights. Most of these people are genuine and kind but always remember, some are not.

In previous blogs I have written about how much Christmas means to me how giving is so important. I have spoken of how, as a child,watching my siblings open their gifts always brought me joy, even though I was not receiving the same kindness. As an adult I can maybe ‘excuse’ this but when I think back to the child who was me, I can’t. But those times, taught me so much. As I grew up I made sure that I gave whatever I could give to others, Christmas especially. I made it the happiest of times for my daughters, Lisa and Marie and my family and friends. I always had my girls write a note to Santa but unlike my ‘mother’, I tried to buy everything they wanted. I see now how unimportant that was. How buying them all the things on their list was less than right. Over the years, the piles of Christmas gifts under my tree was obscene. So many parcels, each done up with pretty ribbons, glittery string and festive labels. Far far too many. Over the past 6 years, the tree has only had family gifts, for those ‘here on the farm’, but still far too many. Maybe I was trying to make sure no one I loved felt like the child above.This year, as always, I have sent the presents to those I cannot get down to see and have made a solid effort to restrict my giving, to a few meaningful, personal presents for those I love, those here with me. I have sent donations where I can, given my grandchildren’s gifts to the Salvation Army and the gifts around the tree will be fewer but full of the real spirit of Christmas. I will as always, something learned as a child, enjoy watching the faces of those I love as they open each thoughtful gift on the big day. There won’t be squeals of delight as there were when my children were small but I know everything will be enjoyed and appreciated and that will do my heart good. Giving is always better than receiving. 

I have finally realised that ‘things’ are not important. What I really want for Christmas can’t be bought and wrapped up to sit under the tree. If I could, I would make every single child feel special at times such as this, make them feel loved and happy. But I can’t. But I can give what I can, share what I have and make sure those I can love, feel loved and safe. This year, the ‘silly season’ as I call it, I will make sure it will be a good one. I will enjoy being with those who love me, sharing memories of Christmas’s past, enjoying Christmas present and looking forward to those to come. Missing people and sharing memories of them as we sit by the fire, the dogs at our feet, the cats on the hearth and the ponies in the field. Talking of the good bits of my childhood, I can no longer share these memories with the only other person who was present when they were made, my beloved brother Tony, but will share them with David and Marie who both knew and loved him. We will talk  of my daughter’s childhood Christmas’s as Marie always does, memories of her and her sister Lisa, happy times. Lisa and my grandchildren will be missed but sadly, as David would say, ‘we are where we are’. Feeling loved and grateful for yet another festive season to enjoy. 

Christmas is about giving and that is the part I enjoy most of all. I  learned to sit and watch, enjoy others opening gifts and that taught me how important giving is. So today as a woman, I love to do that.  I wish could be in the home with any child feeling as the little girl I was, written in the beginning of this blog, (an expert from my 1st book, my life-story,) and give them love, safety and happiness. Safe being paramount. But I can’t. I have spent my life making sure I showed and told those I love, that I love them. I have made sure my children had Christmas that were happy, full of fun and laughter. I still do that today for those who are ‘here on the farm’. I wish all of my family a wonderful time, a Happy Christmas and hope that sometimes memories of my children’s Christmas, come into their minds and make them smile.

Thankyou for reading x

Well here we are again, approaching the ‘silly season’ and my feelings are all over the place. Buying family cards a few days ago I picked one up for Tony, my brother and worked very hard on not allowing  the tears to fall. Every time I do something like this, it is the sudden realisation and as though he had just died, all over again. I abandoned my shopping and came home feeling a little lost. Tony has been there all of my life and this year he won’t be. No visiting and giving him gifts, taking him a little tree or Christmas cake, nothing. Writing my list a few days previous to this, I was overcome with sadness, pain and grief. Losses this year have been many, family members especially, the first Christmas without buying for or visiting my ‘Dad’. Oh how I regret the times I would say how difficult these two men were, to buy for. How I would love to be trawling  the net, walking the pavements, searching for that special present for them both. Sadly I can’t. In my work, I tell clients that the first year would be the hardest. The first birthday, Christmas, any anniversary of the person loved and lost would be so hard the first year. I do hope I am right, that this  is true because I don’t want to feel this way in the years to come. So much is missing at this busy but usually happy time, buying for them, organizing our trip down to Hampshire,visiting them, ringing them both on Christmas morning. How glad I am that I did these things. How happy it made me and hopefully them.

Tony my beloved brother as some will know, had been in the final stages of lung cancer, this time last year. A horrible time made worse by betrayal of family that I have mentioned in earlier blogs. I can’t forgive those who caused him this pain, making his last year, a year he should have spent doing things he loved instead of worrying about the money taken and how his family would pay for his funeral. Right to the end he was gracious. Hurt, let down and angry yes but remained steadfast in trying to put things right. He never understood how some people could steal from him and betray him when he had trusted them. This filled that whole year, his last year,  after he had been told by doctors and knew he was running out of time. Every phone call, every visit, he would talk about it because he never understood how or why. Neither do I. He fought so hard to stay with us but the cancer was stronger and although he made it to Christmas and we chatted on the big day, January stole him from me and we said goodbye. So this Christmas will be hard. But I have happy memories of times past, and have photos and will place one under our tree and light a Christmas candle for him on the day. I will endeavor to be happy for him.

I knew it would be hard this year, because of the losses above but had hoped a few months ago, that there would be a plus in my life. A ‘happy’. I had hoped that I would have my family back, my daughter and my grandchildren. I dared to hope but these hopes were dashed, leaving me very sad and confused. But. I will do what I have done for the past years, five Christmas’s. I will buy a present for Harrison my eldest grandson, one for Jordan, my youngest and one for Hannah, my grand-daughter and wrap them up in Christmas paper as usual. I will take them to the Salvation Army. I will, as usual, write the age groups the gifts are suitable for, what they are and they will make sure ‘children’ of the same age receive these gifts. Not what I want to do really but since being denied the ability to give my grandchildren gifts, others will benefit and that make me happy. I had already began to create my daughter’s special Christmas present , when we were talking a few weeks ago and will continue with this but not send it. It won’t be well received but I will carry on with it and one day, she will have it.

I will also light a candle for Mark Bradford, one of the group members who showed me so much kindness and I will continue to place the pendant he made me, under my pillow. But this year, for the Christmas season, it will hang on my tree. Thankyou Mark. I know you will be singing your heart out in Heaven.

Another ‘sad’ I can hear you say but No. Just saying it as it is, as promised when I began this blog a few years ago. It is sad , the losses and the pain but I won’t let it take over as it has done in the past. These past years have had more than enough sadness and hurt Thankyou. No. I have far too much going on ‘here on the farm’ to let that happen. A week ago, after managing to previously persuade David to get help with major projects, I made a very sad discovery and one I need all my strength and love to make right. We have had someone clear some of our land and now have organized help with our mud room. In the past, David has built a house, alongside of his fulltime position with the MOD. Renovated 3 homes, built stables and a barn, twice, taken care of the land and horses ‘here on the farm’, built a utility room and more. Since his operation he has not had the strength to do such things and found it hard to tell me this. I have done all I can to reassure him with love and support. But a week ago, as I said, we were talking about the mud room and he said that although he thought I was right, that the loss of testosterone had left him weak and he could do nothing about that, he felt ashamed, embarrassed and weak. I was mortified. He is one of the strongest men I know. It doesn’t just take physical strength to be a man, he is my rock. So now, especially with the coming of Christmas and the Winter, I need to step up and let him know how much I love him, how he is still my man and so what if we have to get help in, so what. Many do this who don’t really need to . As I said last week, he is now my priority and I aim to restore his belief in himself .This horrid legacy of the disease, cancer with a little ‘c’ , that barged in uninvited and trampled all over our lives, will not stay around I promise that! His physical strength might not be as it was but his belief in himself will be restored. My job.

David has never been ill and so when PC came into our lives, at a time when we had endured a horrible few years courtesy of my ‘family, leaving me in a very low place,it was even more a shock to him. Me, I am the proverbial ‘creaking gate’, my health has never been good and I am used to doctors, illness, hospitals etc. but my man wasn’t and as I said,  it all came as a shock but he dealt with it with courage, determination and humour. I had minor surgery a couple of weeks ago and now have an issue re that, so once again, I need to concentrate on us here, enjoy my memories, love those around me. Yes I will shed tears on the day I know I will because some I love are missing, but I need to remember the good times and the happy times.That is what they would want. As a child, Tony loved Christmas. He was the precious pup and those of you who have read my book, will  know how Christmas’s were for me. I think my love of giving came from not receiving much as a little girl and learning to enjoy watching ,my siblings, especially Tony, open their gifts. As adults, we as brother and sister were very close, our siblings were not and Tony and Georgina were the ones I would ring on special days. Both no longer here. So yes tears will fall but I will also laugh, smile and share happy memories around the tree. Marie, talking of happy childhood memories of her and her sister Lisa opening pressies and finding they had everything asked for. How my little dog Pepper hated the crackers and so we took the bangers out.Me buying a bicycle for Marie and  trying to ‘wrap’ it. Then when she ‘found it’ her disappointment as it was ‘the wrong kind’!! Lisa’s anger at her sister, as she had known how hard I had found getting the money for presents as a one parent family.  The girls coming home from school with cards made by themselves, whispering in corners and giggling as they arranged ‘surprises’ for me, their mum. As adults, filling my stocking with pretty, usually glittery little gifts and enjoying a lovely Christmas dinner, made by me. Lisa’s first engagement on Christmas day, and her future husband’s dog eating the cake I had made them.Happy times. I will always cherish those times.Lovely happy memories and they will continue to be in my heart along with the new ones made this year.

 

The most important thing about this year, a real happy and one I am so grateful for, is that I still have David. Who knows how it might have been if things had not gone as they have. I often sit and think how lucky we are and remember those who will find this Christmas so hard. Those who have lost husbands, partners or men in their family. I will think of you all at this time and say, its actually okay to be sad. Cry your tears, feel your grief and then perhaps it won’t seem all consuming. Love to you all.

I made a decision last week to come back. The strong happy Carol Ann and I will do that. Even the strong are allowed to cry sometimes. Enjoy your build up to this magical time where ever you are and with whoever you are with. Remember to love them, share with them and enjoy.

Thankyou for reading x

 

 

It’s funny isn’t it, how we mess up our minds, with the image of how we envisaged our lives to be, at any one time with the reality, at that point, of how it really is. I always thought that reaching this time in my life, I would have all the things that others appear to have. I say appear to have, because I have recently discovered, from friends on here who write to me, that there are many of us, who are not where we would have chosen to be, at this time in our life. Having 2 loving daughters, I suppose I had hoped that in my dotage, I would be surrounded by grandchildren and others and for a while I was. Not surrounded but I had 2 beautiful grandsons who are now no longer in my life. Through no fault of mine but because of lies and stories told about my life.They should still be here, as part of my family ‘here on the farm’. Not literally but still part of this family and in my heart they are, in my heart but not physically. I have a grand-daughter, a child I have only seen on Skype when she was a baby, but still my granddaughter. Sadly, my youngest daughter lost the only baby she will have and that is till hurting.This is brought home to me at times like last Monday, my birthday. Don’t get me wrong,I was spoiled, by David, Marie and Jason, sent beautiful flowers by a loving niece and gifts from friends and other family. And a call from my son, that meant so much. I should have been happy and yes I was and am but that ‘something’ , the family I made and  have missed for 6 years now, was evident that day.

I think it was worse this year because for a while, in the  past few weeks, I had hoped life would recover from the evil that had been spread by a family member, all of the lies, as the family now know, are lies, but the damage has been done. I never ever believed mud sticks but I think perhaps it does’ even when the mud has no substance. Especially when no one has asked me how it was, or heard my side of the story so to speak,. The lies are told, the stories repeated and then maybe there is no going back. How do you suddenly turn round to your children, your friends and say ‘actually I lied, none of what I said was true.’ How do you undo all the harm you have done? It can be done if you are a big enough person, you can say ‘I was wrong’. Then the repairs could begin. But if you have lived within that lie for many years and embellished it at every opportunity, it must be hard to backtrack. But it can be done, I am sure. But it wasn’t and I am the only person hurting from that. So Monday, my birthday was not as good as it should have been. But that is the last sad day I will have. I have made up my mind  to be happy and I will. I have tried hard to put things right but failed but today, see that as a failure, not of my making but of my daughter’s. Yes we should love our kids no matter what, make allowances for them making a misjudgment, hurting us etc. and I love all of mine, always will but we are often not afforded the same ‘right’. If our kids hurt us, make us angry, sad, scared, we are expected to let it go and move on and I was willing to do that, once I understood the ‘whys’. But if we as much as say, one word out of line, sometimes our children hold that against us for the rest of their lives and ours. That is sad. Futile. Wasteful and silly. We are after all, fallible human being as they are. I have said sorry for allowing my need for honesty to be used against me, more times than I can remember. But no more. This will be the last birthday I spend, wishing things were different. I am running out of time and need to concentrate on those here who love me.

I have been TOLD not to write on my blog anything that is about how my life is if it involves family. I promised from the very first blog, explaining my reasons for writing an open, honest  blog, telling it ‘as it is’, and am not about to change. I have lost 6 years of family, six years of being dictated to how I should use social media, my personal blog. It would not be real if I exclude everything that has happened. I am a great believer, that if someone wants you to write good things about them, then they should have behaved better in your life. Maybe you think that wrong, but sadly many readers identify with my life and in a way, that saddens me. If people don’t want to read my blog they can always scroll past or not open it.

I wrote a while ago, about wasting time, losing time to regrets, wishes, dreams of a complete family but no more. I need to tell myself that enough is enough. All through David’s Prostate cancer I was being ‘bullied’ on social media by ‘family’ but we survived. It was, as you will all know, a painful, scary, fearful time, full of the ‘what ifs’ and at times, it was overpowering. The early blogs, for 2 years told of my struggles both with PC and family ‘nasties’. How much easier it would have been with the love and support from all of my family. I hope he is through  this horrid illness now, that he will stay well but none of us know what will come either storming into our lives or creep in the back door, as cancer with a little ‘c’ did. During this awful time, I was maligned, bad mouthed, on every SM site at every opportunity and it hurt but I was willing to move on from it all, to have my family back in my life. That is not going to happen because there has been no remorse, no sorries, nor regrets and everything that was said, apparently was meant. So that would make me a very stupid woman to continue to try to make it right wouldn’t it! I have been rebuked, told off and threatened on social media and intend from today, to ignore all of it. I have tried my best even after all the hurt dished out to me, to make things right and it won’t happen. I need now to make sure our lives are happy ‘here on the farm’. We have lost 4 siblings between us, David and I, these past few years, plus good friends and my ‘dad’. It’s time I looked after those I love, the ones who want and accept me, accept my love, my life, warts ‘n all and not keep hankering after a past that has to remain there, in the past, in spite of my continuous efforts.

Today, we have had some positive news about one of my ponies who has been very unwell, Oliver has lost weight and is ridding his body of the toxins that have made him ill. Metaphorically I suppose,that is what I am doing, ridding myself of toxins. Summer Sky , another of our charges is doing well now. Little Ellie Mae is still here, still fighting cancer and showing bags of attitude as usual and our little old man Cody, deaf and partially sighted is as happy as he always was.

I have just had an email,  that David’s best friend is coming over from Australia in the Spring to spend a few months here so that is something happy to look forward to. Life is changing and it is all about how we see it, how we respond and don’t react and this is the beginning or a ‘happy’.

I am back to writing now, book three is on the way and am also working on ‘My Prostate cancer journey, by a forgotten victim’ (working title). We are getting our home up to scratch to hopefully put it on the market in the early Summer, late Spring. On to new beginnings. I will continue to blog on here, mostly life as it is here ‘on the farm’ and snip-its about my PC journey, my perspective.

The past will now be archived.

The present is good and will no longer, for all of our sakes here, be speckled with sadness and regret and hankering after those who choose not to be part of our family

The future will be what it will be and we will face it together, with love, laughter and happiness. Watch this space.

Thankyou for reading x

 

 

This blog is not prostate related but have continued to share for those who asked to keep reading my blog.

Yesterday evening I watched the Remembrance concert on the television, as I do every year. This year it was even more moving than other years and seemed more poignant. I suppose that is because it is the 100th anniversary of the end of the First World War and the commemoration of the second and also included all the conflicts in between and those still current. It also seems more powerful this year, as the two men in my life, for all of my life, my ‘Dad’ William who brought me up and may big bear, my brother Tony were both serving Royal Marines. Dad in the 2nd War and Tony in Borneo and Aden and other conflicts. They both survived conflict and neither spoke much about their time as Royals and I know for Dad, although he didn’t say very much, whenever anything about the war, Remembrance Sunday, the playing of the Last Post, every time I was in his company when these things occurred, I could see the tears. Tony never spoke much of his time fighting but at times when we were alone, he did confide horrible things that still played on his mind. The Royal Marines meant a great deal to both of them. They are sadly both gone now, although I still struggle with accepting that I will never see my brother again as it was only this year that he died.

The 11th November signals the day before my birthday. A day dreaded as a little girl, enjoyed and loved as a young Mum when my daughters would spoil me and a day when ever since meeting my beloved husband David, has been very special. I had hoped this year would see my family, my children and grandchildren back in my life but that is not going to happen. But I will still look forward to tomorrow, a happy day to come after all the sad memories of today. I usually go out with David and Marie but don’t want to be away from my little dogs this year. So we are having a duvet day, lots of popcorn and goodies and watching all the DVD’s bought for me over the past few years that I have yet to watch. Followed by a Chinese take away. I am looking forward to my ‘special day’, this year.

Back to the present. Watching all the Remembrance and Armistice day commemorations and parades, I am proud to be British. We do these things so well. It is a day to remember all those who made the greatest sacrifice of all, laid down their lives for their country. For their families. For us. It is an opportunity to show respect for those who died, those who served and those still serving.

Social Media has enabled us to see how others have marked this important day in history. I have been so proud to see how my home towns especially have taken this time to honour those who lived there and those who died. Portsmouth, Gosport and Monmouth especially. Well done to you all.

The need to remember begins with respect, Respecting all those who have enabled us to have the lives we are living. To those who are no longer with us and those who returned from any conflict damaged and not the same as when they left. For some of those, even in recent times, the suffering continued. It didn’t end with the end of the conflicts. They are the ones we need to keep in our minds. Not just today but always.

If this or any war had begun in today’s society I like to think we would behave the same but I am not sure that we would. One thing I find that is lacking in today’s world is respect. We live in a throw away society and that includes throwing aside family, friends, belongings and morals. This might upset some reading this but it is as always, my perspective of how I see the world. We live in a throw away society, we don’t repair things, we buy new. We don’t always hand things down, we buy new and discard . We don’t strive to make right arguments, disagreements within our families and circles of friends, we all too easily just move on and forget them. Not trying to make things right. Discarding relatives and friends like we discard belongings. Very sad and oh so wrong. What are we teaching those coming after us? How will they cope in a world with such little values. Of course this is not everyone but it is how I see the world outside. If people pre and post both wars had done this, where would we be today. But they didn’t. No, they stood together, made as much of everything that they could. Make do and mend my Nan used to say.

Post both wars but especially when as a child, we were recovering from the second world war, little things were appreciated. I saw bombed sites in Portsmouth, when taken to see my aunt. They terrified me even then and I would not want to see anything like this again. This is I think, what brought it all home to us, as kids, seeing the bombed out houses, tattered wallpaper open to the elements where people used to live. Shocking for anyone  to see,but must have been horrendous to have been present during those war-torn days. Those bombsites were once someone’s home. Back then we had learned to share, go without. Rationing was still in when I was very young and that made us very careful and appreciative of the little things. If we needed anything, right up into my 20’s, we would save or not buy it. If we couldn’t afford it, we would  go without. Then these things were treasured as they had been hard to come by. We respected everything we had. Respected our elders. Respected the law and the church. I think that is what is missing now. Maybe the reason we, who have known people who lived through the 2nd war, heard the horror stories, saw the damage done by bombs etc. We, who saw our parents pain and how valuable ‘having things’ was. Maybe that is where we found respect. Respect for people, respect for property and respect for life itself. We didn’t see vandalism, graffiti, although I have to say at this point, some graffiti  can actually enhance a place, but we didn’t see any back then. We showed this respect to our elders, our parents, our families and for other people’s property. I see very little of that in today’s world. Maybe today and in the future, remembering the sacrifices made by those lost in the wars, might bring a little of it back. I hope so.

Part of the commemorations shown on tv, I saw a reporter talking to a little boy about why his street was decorated with poppies and such. He said that a man who had lived in his house, had died as a young soldier, in the first War and this little boy said he was proud to now live there. That he was proud of the man dying so that he could live the life he has today. What a kind child. What a wise child. That is where we need to start. I brought my children  up to show respect and it is up to them if they do. But if we teach the children today ,yes show them how hard it was in the trenches, how horrible the reality of war is, not by allowing them to play games on a screen that show killing, bombing etc.  But that in reality real people are killed. Real families are torn apart and war is never worth the losses. No one wins a war. I don’t mean  scare them but have them understand, the way I saw on the television, by story telling, pictures of real war scenes, not glamourised as they sometimes are in films and games. Do this in the safety of their homes or schools, maybe then,they, the next generation, will do all they can to love their fellow-man, to respect other people and their belongings and fight every day for peace. Preventing war ever again. People of my age, born post war, are the only people left now to tell others how it was. Through our family stories from those who witnessed it all. Let’s not let the memories die, let’s not let the horrors our men and women faced in any conflict have been in vain. If we do who is to say another World war might not happen.

In todays parade it was good to see the ‘people’s’ parade’. Not soldiers, airmen or marines but those people who had long gone relatives who had died in one of the  wars and other conflicts, for their country. Some talked of men coming home with what was called back then, ‘shell shock’, today it is often referred to as PTSD, a recognized legacy of trauma. We value their service and I hope, help them to recovery. World war 2, these men were ignored and treated very badly. A group has now been formed to remember all those ‘shot at dawn’. There were many soldiers in both wars who couldn’t cope with the horrible conditions, the killing and their fate was often to be court martialed, labeled as deserters and ‘shot at dawn’. Just doesn’t bear thinking about does it. I would think most men in the trenches wanted to run at some time or other. Those that did, well the new group says it all. The soldiers who did this were classed as deserters and have only in recent years been pardoned.

I can remember in Gosport as a child, seeing a man walking through the streets, talking to himself. He was scruffy, scared looking and lost. I found later that he had been a soldier and had been badly affected by the horrors of war. These are the people we need to look out for and look after. Not all wounds are visible. Our men and women didn’t die so that we could struggle.They didn’t die so  that we could hurt each other. Kill each other. They didn’t give their lives so that we could squabble and fight over futile things, or for us to treat people with little or no respect and show little empathy for our fellow-man. They died for Peace, love and respect. The allusive respect that sadly, I believe is gone.

We need to keep remembering in order to maintain this peace they fought for. We  have one world. We are of one family, the family of mankind. I know it sounds like preaching but it is something I feel so strongly about. William, the man who brought me up, could have so easily died as many of his comrades did and I feel they would not like the way our world is going. If we forget the past conflicts, the World wars, then the horrors will fade, the memories no longer be around and then who knows. Maybe World war 3 could happen and no one wants that do they. We should all strive to prevent that and begin this by showing and sharing respect, beginning at home, beginning with family. Let’s hope today marks the end of the making of wars, like the ones we have endured, but not the end of remembering the sacrifices.

Many years ago, the singer Harry Secombe, sang ‘If I ruled the world’. Well if I ruled the world, war would be outlawed.I would command love, respect and loyalty. But they are things that can’t be commanded or even earned until the world as a whole sees their value. Everyone no matter who they are, needs love and should have respect and loyalty. In the end we are all the same, we all end up the same, in our ultimate death, there are no divisions, so whilst we are here, we should care and love each other on this journey of life, right through to when our time is up. No-one better than anyone else, the world should belong to everyone, Utopia I know and can’t happen but what a lovely idea to dream about.

Thankyou for reading. x