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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

 

 

 

 

 

This is my first blog for a few weeks. Grieving for my ‘dad’ brought back unresolved grief for me, for my brother. Along with the anticipatory grief for my little dog that I have spoken of in my blogs, I have felt so down, that writing wasn’t happening. Association is a strong force and losing Dad took me back to January this year when my beloved brother Tony lost his fight against cancer. I thought I was okay with it now but no, I have been so down, so low and sad that it was as though they had both died together, yesterday. I know that is what grief can do, I have studied it in all it’s forms and work with it in my professional role, so I know and should have expected it. But I didn’t and I wasn’t ready. When Dad first died, I picked up the phone to speak with Tony, I still do this often. It hurts just as much and is always what happens, as though the realisation of my loss is new. Losing him all over again. It will stop but not until I have let it all go. Could be some time.

But here I am back once more and blogging today about something David and I didn’t think about, have much idea about but we should have. Ignorance is bliss they say, we understood and were ready for the side effects of having removal of his prostate gland, it was what he wanted and I agreed, get rid of the cancer and try to get back to a normal of some kind. I have blogged over the years about a new norm. A new way of loving. I have written about the changes that occur after such surgery, the ones we were warned about and how we are coping. In a blog a few months ago, I wrote about learning a new way of loving, a different but strong way of being together, feeling grateful that my wonderful husband is still alive, still here with us. That was enough. Yes we had missed the physical love we had had before but that wasn’t important. He has healed, has no continence issues and as for the rest, well things are improving. So why am I talking about this today? Because the picture above, was how I saw David yesterday. My once strong, capable man, who could turn his hand to anything, who was strong and could throw bales of hay over his shoulder like they were bags of feathers, working outside in the fields until the sun went down, is the man in the photo. This is who I saw yesterday , sad, tired and dejected after trying to move some trees that had  come down. You don’t know how sad that makes me. Breaks my heart. I can understand recent days, when he seems frustrated, sad, angry with something, even a bit depressed, when he realises that he can’t actually work as he used to. That maybe having a break is not a waste of time but taken out of necessity. I understand but that doesn’t make it any easier and I know it certainly doesn’t for him. David worked as a senior Civil Servant in charge of hundreds of men, white collar work most of the time unless he had to go to sea, or oversee projects. But meeting me took him into a world that was foreign to him, full of horses, ponies, children, fields, stables and mud. Gone were his suits, gone his designer shoes and in came the wellies, the waterproofs and the pitchforks! At the same time, we have moved a few times, David and I renovating each home  and am still doing that today. He took it all in his stride, never complained and told me he was in his element, ‘nothing like hard work to make me feel good’ he would say and having the added joy of getting to know the animals we have taken on, was the bonus for this man who never even even owned a Goldfish! Nothing was too much for my man. There was nothing he couldn’t do. Clever, intelligent and strong. My David. My rock.

I know he is still there, still the man I married but now he is not up to doing some of the things he always had. We have had to get people in to cut trees and clear the ponds. Someone to mow the great expanses of grass we have ‘here at the farm’. He has even given in, ‘to help a young man trying to start a business’, he said and we now have a window cleaner. Losing his Prostate gland has left his hormones depleted we knew that, but it meant he would or could be cancer free, a small price to pay we thought. But now, because he doesn’t feel as physically strong, he is upset and feels less of a man. We had discussed this feeling around the side effects of ED and incontinence and both agreed that it wouldn’t change him, change us. We hadn’t even thought about this other side effect, the loss of strength. I know it is normal, but how we didn’t consider it before is beyond me. We would have discussed it then but it didn’t cross our minds. Stupid? Maybe but it didn’t.It doesn’t matter to me, we will continue to get help where we need it but I can see what is is doing, has done to David. Every evening now, instead of being chatty and still full of energy, he is tired and falls asleep on the sofa more often than not. I only know he is frustrated because he is a bit short-tempered at times and they are always times where he has felt unable to do something, leaving him lacking, in his mind, someway.

I married a handsome strong amusing kind man 31 years ago. We married because we loved each other. Because of our track record, we were told it wouldn’t last. I love him today more than when we married. He says the same to me. Not only has he been my rock, but my best friend. Goodness knows he has put up with a lot since we got together. In recent years, the family stuff, he has been my safety, my sanity and my comfort. Throughout the years, he has put up with everything my family has thrown at me, all the problems others brought to our door, all without a word of complaint. He has encouraged me, believed in me when I wanted to retrain and went to Uni. Supported me when I wrote my autobiography and that was a difficult time for my family, as I closed myself off to revisit my past. His support was always there, willing me to continue on days I felt I couldn’t. He never allowed me to give up, even on the days I felt I would. As someone who doesn’t usually cry, when I did eventually let go, he held me for many hours, over and over again while I cried at hurt I have felt. Always there. Always strong. He has worked incredibly hard to provide us here, with everything we needed and almost everything we wanted ,for years and years. All in a quiet, kind and generous way. He is indeed a wonderful man. My strong man.

So today, sitting here writing this I am sad. Not for me but for David. I know how it feels to have to stop doing things you have always done. To have to accept you have limits, I found this out a few years ago when I was quite poorly. We shouldn’t be surprised but we are. He has been told he is cancer free, he has not been sent for, for further blood tests and that is wonderful. So cancer with a little ‘c’ has lost its fight with us. But this new legacy, one we were not expecting, didn’t think about, wasn’t ready for, has been a shock for us both .We should have seen it coming, expected it but we didn’t. So we are now having to try to adjust to it. I will never let David feel less than a man, less than the amazing man I married. That’s my job now. My role is to make him happy every day, make sure he knows I find him handsome, sexy and wonderful as I always have. We will both acknowledge his limits and concentrate, as I have to, on the things he can do and delegate those he can’t. Not easy but do-able.

One thing we have used throughout the PC journey is humour. I seem to have forgotten that these past weeks but will find it again and use it as and when I need. It is something David and I have always used. Something I taught my daughters to use, ‘if you can learn to laugh at yourself, it doesn’t hurt when others laugh at you’, the words of the late  Marti Caine.

So cancer, you may have changed us, our way of life but you haven’t beaten us. You will never beat us! If you have the audacity to return, we will be ready for you and fight, as hard as we have done through these past years. We may not be physically as capable, or strong, yes ‘we’ but we have our strong lasting love and the power to handle anything life throws at us, so do your worst! Me and my man, who is strong is so many ways, stronger than anything or anyone who tries to destroy us, you are wasting your time.

 

Thankyou for reading x

 

 

 I hope I am x

 

The whole world seems to be experiencing unusual frightening weather. Hurricanes stronger than usual. Storms worse than ever before. Rain that has sent horrendous mudslides and flooding. Stormy weather more destructive than usual. I feel for anyone involved in any of this and my heart goes out to anyone who has lost a loved one, wherever they are. For me, different kinds of storms are present, are far closer  to us, ‘here on the farm’, much more personal. Physically not as nasty but here all the same. I feel like I have been riding a storm for many years.

Before 2012 life was good, happy but May of that year, the storm clouds came thundering in and cast a black shadow over us bringing lasting torrential rain. Life changed that Spring and has never recovered, well not for any length of time. May 31st 2012,saw me say goodbye to my wonderful horse of 26 years, Evening Star. I was devastated and at an all time low. I shared this with friends on Social media. Sadly this brought about the beginning of a nightmare I wouldn’t wish on anyone. I have documented the nasty hoax by a young woman, who read this on my author page, a wicked damaging hoax that I suffered for 6 months, 24/7 , in earlier blogs. From that time on, I feel I have been under the storm clouds, seeing them in their darkness and feeling their rain,  over and over. The death of a best friend, the estrangement of my eldest daughter and her family, lies fueled by a wicked relative, the loss of my life’s work, family deaths, and then my beloved David having cancer,all leaving me broken, as storms leave storm damage, never the same after the events.

Maybe I was lower than I had realised, a few years after 2012, worn down, because the clouds continued to gather from then on and when David was diagnosed with Prostate Cancer, they gathered force and had a field day. Back then I could see those clouds, feel the rain but that has changed. But back then,they were real, almost tangible as anyone going through PC will know. I have written about the darkest gloom, that accompanies us on the journey some of us traveled, unwillingly, but having no choice. All the waiting, all the fear and all the sadness. I often look at my husband and everything I felt back then returns in waves of panic. The ‘what ifs’ are back and I am weighed down with the hugeness that has happened and can’t seem to stop it at times. I feel ashamed, David is okay, his PSA is undetectable and they haven’t sent for further tests believing he is ‘cured’. But because the past 6 years have been so horrendous, pain, loss, sadness, fear are all there, have been waiting in the wings and rush onto my stage at any opportunity, I expect the worst, fear the worst. I read of the sadness of wives and partners whose husbands have not been so lucky, some who have died, some who are dying and I feel so much for each and every one of them. I am then engulfed in guilt for seeming ungrateful, but I am not, even if it appears I am. ‘There but for the grace of God…..’

As I have said, back then, I could see the clouds but now I only feel the rain but I know they are there, even on calm days,I can feel the oppressive heaviness in my world, in my head and in my heart. These past weeks have found me sad, hurting and feeling full of regret. 2018 has stolen two of the most important men in my life. January my brother and friend, Tony and this past week, the man I was honoured to have been asked to call ‘Dad’. I miss them both so much and just wish Heaven had a phone-line so that I could call and talk to them. I wasn’t able to see either of them to say goodbye and that pains me beyond words.

What makes it worse, is that I know the storm of death is not over and that these next few weeks, months, will bring the loss of my much-loved dogs and possibly my cat. Other animal lovers will understand this, my dogs and cats are part of our family and very important parts. It hasn’t happened yet but everyday brings it nearer. Ellie Mae is 10, Cody is 13 and Luther is 17, so I should expect it shouldn’t I? But that doesn’t make it easier or better, believe me. Ellie is not sleeping but otherwise okay, she has the ‘c’ word and is on borrowed time. Cody is tired and has hearing and sight loss but is again, okay. They are not aware of what is to come but I am. I know, sadly, what is waiting in the wings, I pray that it will be peaceful and fear free for both of them, when the time comes and I will be with them both at the end. I and am spending as much time with them as I can. I have to be the strong one here. Hard, almost impossible but necessary, so I will.

We knew Tony was leaving us and I think my ringing him every day was a way of holding on, as though if I kept ringing, the inevitable wouldn’t happen. I spoke with him on the phone, every day, right up to the day before he died. I did the same with my sister Georgina, in the weeks before I lost her. During this time, our friend Mark Bradford was dying, he had told us and prepared us, and we all knew that the message from Sharon would come but when it did, it was still a painful revelation. We knew a couple of weeks ago that Dad, (I have explained how I came to call him Dad , in earlier blogs,) was going to lose his fight but even knowing it will happen, does not lessen the shock of the call that gave me the news.  Waiting, anticipating, dreading these calls, messages etc. can leave us in a very low place, still not ready to hear the news. I know it has taken its toll on me. You are never prepared, I wasn’t prepared for any of the calls that brought this final news, that each of them had died. The rain came then. It was as though I had been living under storm clouds for each of these loved ones illness’s. Waiting for the storm to come and finally bring refreshing rain. Well the storm broke but the rain is still anything but refreshing. Life is now grey, sometimes black. I seem to have been waiting and waiting , for bad news for years now. Anticipating it, anticipating death, grief, loss and sadness. So it goes on. Sadly, I do lots of that today.

I find myself picking Ellie up and hugging her, for it seems, hours, she is very patient with me, not as she usually is, wanting to get down and play. We call her a Shih tzu with attitude, only doing what she wants in her time, but not now. She allows me this privilege, to hug her, unaware that my hugging her is trying to stop it from happening. As if holding her in my arms, death will not be able to steal her away. I couldn’t do that with Tony or Dad, whatever makes me feel I can do it for her or Cody?  I tell myself, ‘for goodness sake Carol Ann, if you were a client, you would prepare them for the finality of what was coming’. I know that! Really I do but as I have said many times, physician heal thyself doesn’t work.

So here I am , in my study, listening to the rain and wind, if I look out of my windows I can see the clouds that are bringing the storms out there but still cannot see my inner clouds, not yet, don’t want to yet. Give me a little more time please, is in my prayers every night. I don’t do the ‘what ifs’ with my little dogs because it isn’t what if, but when that worries me. In the past the ‘what ifs’ have had a field day, optimism having little or no chance. Now it definitely has no chance.

Now I feel the rain behind my eyes and in the lump in my throat, all the time. I look at my sleeping dogs, who have given me 13 wonderful loyal loving years and am overwhelmed with love. I look at photos of Tony and ache to talk to him, to hug him and now, today I just want one more conversation with my ‘Dad’. The realisation that I can’t is too immense for words.

But

The rain can’t go on forever can it?

The clouds will be blown away by Autumn winds, won’t they?

What does that leave?? Sunshine I hope. My inner sun is so distant that I can’t even remember feeling it but I will, won’t I?

 I know I need to be patient, a different kind of waiting, this time for a happy or better. I need to wait and anticipate and look forward to sunshine…. but it is hard.

There is  a light on the horizon, I now have some of my family back in my life, not in the way it was but back a little way and that is better than before. I will try hard to concentrate on that and everything that is happening here ‘on the farm’. Try and see the light, the sun that is hopefully hiding behind the clouds and then, maybe, just maybe the clouds will go away.

Thank you for reading xx

 

During the past few weeks, I have been part of a conversation on Social Media about the safety of children. Talking about CSA and trafficking of children. It still alarms me that so many children have no one to go to, to talk to in this harsh world that we live in today. Families are not what they once were, people move away, sometimes leaving family on their own. We don’t always have the ‘maiden aunt’ to confide in. Grandparents who used to always be there for our children, are now, I am happy to say, busy in their own lives and somewhat apart from family as we know it or knew it. During this discussion we touched on the ‘whys’ of abused children not telling until adulthood, if then. We looked at how telling the wrong person, as I did, can stop kids talking to anyone about what was happening to them. It was identified that our children often have trust issues and that today’s parents maybe need educating in gaining and keeping that trust, from the first day of parenthood. How to do that is still in discussion but always encouraging our little ones to come to us, with the tiniest of problems or fears could be a start. Never brush away something that they tell you. Always listen, always believe, re assure them that you will stop whatever is scaring or hurting them, then investigate and act.

A while ago, something that was flagged up in the discussion, it was said in an interview by an MP that ‘teaching our children road safety and safety in the home, as part of child’s education, is imperative but teaching body safety isn’t, because, ‘not all children suffer abuse’. An ignorant statement in my opinion. No it isn’t all children who are abused but not all children get involved in accidents at home or on the roads but we teach them the way to stay safe just in case, in both with no questions asked. The same should apply in body safety.

So the discussion was about the importance of teaching children body safety as part of the school curriculum. All children are vulnerable, every child could be abused, bullied, or hurt. Every child and any child could be at risk, it doesn’t matter who they are, what family they come from. We know from the news, that anyone could be harmed in some way as a child.

This blog is not to alarm people but to ask adults to be aware, that sometimes people you trust with the most precious lives, your children’s, might not be who you think they are. That is not to say don’t trust anyone, but knowing exactly who your child is with at all times and more importantly, teaching them to tell you anything that happens that makes them afraid, uncomfortable or scared is of utmost importance. If you are told by a child that someone has either hurt them or scared them, act on that please.

So how do we prepare our children to be safe? Well, there are many books out there, books teaching our children Body Awareness, Body Safety. For example; ‘My Body is Private’ by Linda Walvoord Girard. ‘It’s My Body’ by Lory Freeman and the Jane Evans series of picture books. A book, that can help parents know how to teach children body safety is Teaching Children to Protect Themselves’ by Freda Briggs. I am in favour of schools, following strict guidelines and after training, teaching all children about the safety aspects of being vulnerable. Teaching them that is it okay to tell someone if they are unhappy about an adults actions, whoever that person is. Adults they see at school, at home anywhere, to tell a responsible person, someone they can trust. But the most important thing here is to make sure the child has that responsible trust-worthy person to tell this to. If they can’t talk about these horrors at home they need an outlet in school.

A few years ago, I worked on a paper with a member of the Welsh Government about the need for counselling in schools. It had been decided that some children sadly, did not have the home life where they felt able to confide in a parent. In this recent discussion we talked about everyone needing to have a person they can confide their deepest fears to. Children need this even more. As children we don’t always know what is right or wrong. If the abuser is a family member, a parent, a caregiver who seems okay to everyone else, how can the child tell? Sometimes the abuse can have always been there as it was for me, that child’s ‘norm’. Sometimes a child may confide in a parent only to be told, that if what they said was true, it was their fault. Or the child might be punished and then ignored as I was. How then can they talk about these awful incidents? Who can they go to if not their parent or care giver? We came to the conclusion that School Counselling was, essential. We, now in Wales, should have Counsellors in every school, however, due to lack of money, these sessions are limited and not all schools are able to afford this service. I am about to launch a campaign to bring Accredited counsellors, either out of retirement or not working, back into helping where there is no help. I for one will offer my services.

Although schools can play a part, in the teaching and keeping safe of our children, I also feel it would be good, to have somewhere, where new parents can learn to parent. A few years ago, I wrote a paper a long time ago, on ‘Children Bringing up Children’ that was widely acknowledged and commented on. I felt that the younger the parent, the less time they had had to have lived their own lives and learned about life issues. When a baby is born, we don’t get a manual! It is all hit and miss if we weren’t parented well ourselves. Mistakes will be made, all of us have made them. Young mums need all the support they can get and although those in our own families, might not take notice of us, being taught by professionals might help them. Some young parents make wonderful families if they have been parented well themselves. It isn’t that we, as the older generation are better, not at all, it is just that we have been here longer, learnt from our mistakes and can see when things go wrong.

So teaching our children body safety is essential. The trauma a child can suffer from abuse of any kind, stays with them. I have often been asked how I remember in detail every incident of my own CSA. It is simple. Trauma cements memories. Simple as that. Soldiers, airman and any person in the security services who has faced traumatic events, will have those imbedded in their minds. Some can deal with them and some can’t. The same for abuse victims. Some are able to move on and live normal lives, whatever normal is, some can’t. Why do people only come forward as adults? Children are fragile, some so traumatized from abuse that has always happened, that pushing the events far back in their minds, is the only way they can survive. They may have been scared, told that they won’t be believed or told it must have been their own fault. In my case I was told that I would be sent away to a place where these horrible things would happen all day and every day. After telling the woman who they called my ‘mother’, after her reaction, I told no one. As an adult, acknowledging the damage that has been done, or because they suffer a mental disorder such as PTSD, and seek help, they recover enough to tell their stories, as I did. I see this all the time in my work as Cognitive Behavioural Psychotherapist. Some clients, whilst telling me their history, move in their seat into a childlike position, becoming that traumatised little one again. Emotional heart wrenching work and I am privileged to be part of this recovery.

I am in the process of writing a new book and in that I will give some strategies on how to survive CSA and how, as adults, we can keep our children safe. If you have suffered abuse as a child, then please tell someone now. My dream is to have a world where abuse doesn’t happen but accept that it will never come true. So, we need to teach adults on how to earn the trust of their children and how to teach the children how to be safe. Everyone knows today how rife CSA was and is, I am sorry to say. No one knows what happens to us as children except us and our abusers. Let’s try and stamp out as much as we can, by teaching body safety, so that abuse doesn’t happen in the first place. Teach adults, that if we are told we listen, believe and act. Even if we get it wrong and the child was not harmed, what do we lose? We may look silly or stupid but we will have done the right thing. Silly and stupid is better than our children continuing to be harmed in any way. Teaching the child body safety is a deterrent and may just prevent some cases of children who otherwise would be victims of CSA. All of this is useful but only if the parents or caregivers are not the abusers or complicit in the abuse, as mine was. I am hoping that one day soon, parents and adults who know that children are being harmed and do nothing, are prosecuted. If our children don’t feel safe enough to talk to those who should be there for them, or the parents are the abusers, teaching body safety in schools as part of the normal curriculum is vital.

Thank you for reading x

 

Well here we are again, September, how fast this year is going. These past few years, as I have said in previous blogs, September has been painful, hard and sad. This year I had hoped it would be a good month, a ‘happy.’

Many years ago, September brought me the most physically painful but most wonderful of days. The happiest of my whole life to that point. I gave birth to my first daughter, Lisa Jayne on this day, the 9th. A very lengthy and difficult birth but something I am so grateful for. Although my marriage was not good at that time, having my precious baby girl, my blessing, made everything seem alright. I had often questioned my reason for ‘being’ but she made me realise why I was here. She made my life make sense.

Years later,September also brought me my very first grandson Harrison and I wasn’t ready for the huge love this tiny baby brought into my life, a love that is still here today. When I was a child, this was the time of year that we went back to school after a far too long holiday, going back was always a relief for me, for reasons some of you  understand. So this last month of Summer, this first month of Autumn, became a special month. David and I chose  to marry in September 31 years ago yesterday making it even more special and happy.

So this week has brought wonderful happy memories , better than the last few years but life has a way of balancing out. For every good there seems to be a bad. The year I met David, that September, saw the passing of the man who had brought me up, the man who I believed to be my father, until at the age of 17 when I discovered he wasn’t. This made so much sense to me, sense of the way he was in front of my mother. Although he wasn’t my birth father, he tried to let me know he cared. Showed he loved me, when there was no one of the family around. He was a good man. Then there is the Dad of my best-friend Carol, who along with his wife, many years ago, asked me to call them Mum and Dad as they considered me family. The love was mutual and I often, as a little girl, made up stories in my head pretending they were my parents. I loved, love them both. Sadly Mum died a few years ago and this week Dad is in hospital nearing the end of his life. I so want to be with him, with his family of which I am a part but can’t. I realise today more than ever, how distance sucks. How living so far away, having such huge commitments here, prevent such visits and stop me from seeing those I love. Having had no choice on moving here, does nothing to change the pain.

Distance has stolen such a lot from me. Along with my health, which  has often affected my ability to visit people and be there for those I love. When David was first diagnosed with Prostate Cancer, I was very ill. Dizziness, sickness, being unsteady and falling about were my constant companions. Doctors at first could find nothing, I had been under a great deal of stress and I thought with David having cancer, that was the reason. But no, eventually they discovered a blocked artery above my heart and this may have been the cause. It was said that being so stressed, having worry outside of the worry of cancer with a little ‘c’, just made me worse.I had been rushed to hospital twice ,all at a time I needed to be there for my husband. Now, this September, with sick animals, Ellie nearing the time we have to make that awful decision, the ponies needing us and both of us  being full up with colds, I try to console myself with the thought that no hospital would let us visit anyway. But it doesn’t stop me wanting to be with Dad.

Anticipating the death of someone you love, as some of you know too well, is horrible beyond words. Along with the day-to-day living, the happy memories of your loved one, is the constant thought of losing them. It can also drag you back, by association, to other deaths, other times of fearing the losing someone, another time previous where you have been grief-stricken. This past week particularly, I have felt sad, angry, pained and scared, all the emotions I went through during diagnosis, tests, surgery and recovery with my beloved husband David, during our journey with PC. I suppose, that although I say David ‘had’ cancer, every time I read of a death on the group, now thinking of Dad’s impending death, anticipating the grief that will follow, my tummy goes over and the ‘F’ word returns because of the ‘what ifs’. I now don’t think that will ever go.

So many deaths over the past few years, most of them to the ‘c’ word. A brother-in-law, a sister-in-law, my own sister Georgina, my best friend Mo and my Big bear, Tony. That was when I began to understand anticipatory grief for real, when we knew Tony had limited time left. Along with his children and grandchildren, I felt the awful impending pain that accompanies it. I dreaded every phone call, every meeting or email. When it came, the phone-call telling me he had died, it didn’t as I had hoped it would, bring relief. Tony had been ill and in pain for a while, so I expected the relief but no, it didn’t manifest itself. That’s the trouble with love, isn’t it. Although we ‘prepared’, when we knew his illness was not curable, when the inevitable happened it still came as a shock. Having beaten a life threatening illness 20 years previous to this, Tony would beat this wouldn’t he? But no, he didn’t and the shock was huge. Anticipating it had not lessened that.

Now, today, knowing that Dad is having end of life care, the helplessness, the worry, the pain is all back. I know he will leave us soon. We have been told that but are we prepared? Are we ever prepared for a loved one leaving us? Maybe if I had been able to see him I would be, I don’t know. Even if prepared for the pain and loss, I know when it comes, it will be huge. We all respond to loss in our own way. It is not always and only death that can bring grief, I know that but the death of people and our animals for us all, leaves us grieving. The price we pay for loving someone or loving a pet, shows at the end of their life. Grief is that price.

And then ,a few weeks ago, there was Mark. My friend whom I never met, who died from this horrid illness called PC. Distance once again got in the way of my ever meeting him. At his death we should have been prepared. He told us often enough, prepared us, in his blogs, his posts, his private messages within his faith, he told us many times that he was dying. Did we believe that? I don’t know. Did I expect it after being told? No I didn’t. Did I grieve? Yes and am still grieving. Was I ready? No I wasn’t. I suppose his faith helped him but I think, a little part of me, thought that if his God loved him, in the way Mark told me he did, told us all. If his God knew the good work he was doing, the friends he had met, the difference he was making to people’s lives, he might just spare him. Let him stay. Let him love us a bit longer. I can imagine Mark smiling at this point in my blog, saying it was in God’s plan and that he was okay with it. But plans change don’t they?However, I also know that as a child, a churchgoer, I was told ‘ours is not to reason why, we should not question God’s plans’. Should not ask Why. But I do. Sorry but I do.

One thing different this September, is that as I said last week, a legacy to me from Mark Bradford, is that I can pray again. Still not sure God is listening as I said all through my book, my life story as a child, when I prayed and prayed but nothing changed. But something that David’s recovery, things that have happened these past 2 weeks, I now have a little word I held dear throughout by younger life, before lost faith and that is Hope. I will hope that somehow my prayer for Dad is answered, even if not in the way I hope for but if his life is not spared, I am asking for an end that is peaceful, dignified and full of love. I know he knows we all love him so much but don’t want him to suffer.

So many sads but some happy’s. It is Lisa’s birthday today and for the first time in 6 years, I have been able to wish her a happy birthday and will do the same for my grandson. It doesn’t mean the past didn’t happen, it just means that life is too short, that lately I have known how fragile the thread of life is. I know how illness and time can steal from us and who knows what is to come. PC came out of the blue and wreaked havoc over our lives ‘here on the farm’ and threatened to steal my rock, my husband, away from me. Did I expect that! No and it came as a shock and left me reeling. We have no time. I also know that a mother’s love is unconditional and am out to prove that. Yesterday was David and my anniversary, 31 years and it meant more now than ever before. I value every minute I have with my man, the man who took me on with everything that came with me. He became a dad to my children and has remained true and loyal to us all. He promised to love me and care for me, as I did him, through sickness and in health and we certainly have done and will always do that. I now see him in a completely different light. He has always been honest, strong, funny and loving but the manner in which he fought PC, showed a different side, He was dignified, full of courage, pragmatic and of course his wonderful, necessary living in my family, sense of humour and fun shone through. I tell him every day and he does me, how much we love each other. I am indeed a lucky lady.

I am very aware of how some on the group, sadly have not been so lucky, so fortunate and my love goes out to them all. Those who have lost partners to PC and those who have split with them because of the changes this nasty disease can bring, I send huge hugs. I am never smug about our position, I just feel blessed and so lucky and hugely grateful that we have survived this journey none of wanted to make.Long may it last.

So September, I know you may deal us blow after blow this year. Dad, Ellie Mae, and possibly little Cody and who knows what else! I know you are going to test my reserves to the limit but with David at my side, my family almost back with me, give it your best shot ‘cos I am ready! Who knows, with the power of prayer and a little bit of hope, you may not be as bad as I am anticipating.

 

Thankyou for reading x

 

Todays blog is about a goodbye to a friend. I have written about this loss in a previous blog, on August 5th, entitled Love, Loss and Grief, however I wanted to write this now after watching Mark’s memorial service and feeling very humble but proud. Humble because he was such an inspiration and proud because I called him a friend. For those who didn’t know him, Mark Bradford was one of the first men who wrote to me ,after I began telling the story of my journey, our journey, David’s and mine, with Prostate Cancer. Not a journey we asked to take or that David deserved but travel it we did and in a way, still are. Mark was  a kind of ‘heavy rocker’ come ‘country singer’ who lived his life with God on his side. Mark was kind, informative and yes, funny. Like me, he saw the importance of using humour in most situations, where appropriate. Those of you who have read his blog ,or mine, will know that. It was in the early blog entries where I read, learned, that sadly, his prognosis was not good. He had terminal PC and my heart went out to him. Back at that time, we were in the early stages and didn’t know what was going to happen, how serious my husband’s illness was. I was struck immediately on how strong he was, David is pragmatic but Mark took this to another level. His faith seeing him through.

Reading each other’s blogs told us so much about the other. I read of his huge faith, a faith I had shared as a child but lost because of the things that happened to me and those I loved. Every one of his blogs were strong, sincere, warm and contained a little humour, something we both do,  as do some other bloggers Dan Cole being one. Life without humour, is not really life in reality. What Mark did, was sometimes use humour to deflect but also used it when referring to his own imminent death. He wasn’t scared, bitter or angry that he had such limited time. His belief in Heaven, took away every ounce of fear. His love of his God, took away any bitterness he may have had. As for anger, Mark believed in God’s will, so how could he be angry if this is what God had planned for him. That’s faith. That’s belief. Oh how I wish we all had this. How I wish I had this.

I never physically met Mark, as I have said before, but very soon after ‘meeting’ in a group on social media, we began private messaging each other, as I am sure many on here have done. He was very generous with his time. I will keep those messages forever. He would make comment on my blog and asked more about my life. Because I write as I feel, as life hits me, with everything that is happening in my life at that time, he asked me about my book. After telling him, he read my story and expressed his sadness and love, being very kind. That was Mark, along with all other virtues, he was kind. He showed compassion when I told him of David and my beloved brother’s fight with cancer, sending us all pendants that he and Sharon had made. As I have said before, Tony’s was placed on his chest when he left us and mine is under my pillow every night. David’s is at the side of his bed. A beautiful material reminder of Marks’ generosity and love. So although I never ‘met’ him, I really felt as though I have. I felt his love, his strength and faith in his pm’s to me. In his blogs to us all. Because of what we had shared, I felt he knew me. I read and re read every thing he said and feel as though his words are hugging me to give me comfort.

Yesterday I watched the video of Mark’s memorial service and was left breathless. If you haven’t seen it yet, please take a look. It was what real beauty is all about. I won’t say too much because we will all interpret it in our own way.

I want to say Thankyou Mark, for introducing us to Michael Cork, your Pastor and Mentor. His service, eulogy and Benediction were beautiful. He too used humour, telling stories of him and his friend. He told us of Mark’s great musical talent and how he was able to make a living out of this media. How he combined his love of music with telling others of his faith, of his God. Using the words of Bohemian Rhapsody, to emphasise how Mark looked at life.

Is this the real life, is this just fantasy?
Caught in a landslide no escape from reality
Open your eyes look up to the skies and see
I’m just a poor boy, I need no sympathy…..

That was Mark. He never asked for or expected sympathy for where he was, what was to happen to him. Never. Because he knew it was God’s will and so it was alright. Michael referred to Mark’s blog many times, how he would tell it as it was, as I do, and I believe that is why he understood my need to tell everything. He told of all the ups and the downs, the reality that is a journey with PC. He never shied away from his coming death. He saw it as part of his life, his next step on his final journey so to speak. He took us on ‘his final farewell tour’ Michael Cork’s words, so fitting. The eulogy delivered by Michael was beautiful, heartfelt and sincere. Qualities that Mark possessed in abundance.

Cancer is cruel. It is heartless and all-inclusive of those who suffer and those who care for them. Mark didn’t lose the fight, cancer with a little ‘c’ didn’t win. He was the winner. He is where he always knew he would be, in the arms of his God. I wish I had his faith. I hope I die like him. Believing in God, believing in Mark’s words. That will be his legacy to me I think and hope.

When Mark appeared in the service, in a  video he made for it, showing his generosity to his friends, wanting to say a personal goodbye, it took my breath away for a second. In this, he addressed us all I believe. It was so moving, so full of courage and bravery and still,right up to the end of his life, showed how he was thinking of others in his appeal to men everywhere, to get tested for this evil disease. I liked how he referred to the PSA as ‘just a number’. How he reassured his viewers and how he made the importance, at a time he was dying, that men have this test to save their lives. That was Mark. Always thinking of others.

The service brought much-needed tears, sorry Mark but I do feel sad. Sad for Sharon, the love of your life, who stood by your side at every part of the journey although her heart must have been breaking. The love between this wonderful couple shone throughout the time I knew him and all through the service, which she attended. It was evident in his writings and in everything he said or did. His happiness in his marriage and his faith was huge and infectious. Seeing him talking to us was mind-blowing and so full of love and courage. I felt, like so many I am sure, that he was talking directly to me. The last photos of Mark walking with his beautiful wife, on the beach, the peace, contentment and love was how I will envisage his passing.

I wish I had met him but feel that I did. A huge man, tiny in stature but huge in presence I am sure. Even when I looked at his early photos, his blonde curls and boyish grin, I saw a huge man, a strong man, a proud man.I loved reading his messages, his blogs his posts and will miss them always.

One thing I will take from the memorial service and Michael Cork, is to live, as Mark did, everyday to the full. To make it matter, in anything I do, as Mark did. The last photo of a smiling Mark at the end of the service, on the stage, is how I will remember him.

What a wonderful place Heaven must be and what a lucky place to have such a man as Mark there now. Heavens gain, our loss. Michael said, we will be forever changed, after losing Mark, how right is he. Losing a loved one does this, I know, after losing a beloved brother recently, I know it again today. Mark didn’t want us to grieve but grieve we will, we must. I for one miss him. I can’t be happy that death has taken him but I can be happy that he is at peace, out of pain, free from the dreaded cancer that stole him from us. I also have to believe that although his earthly struggle is over, he is now on a new beautiful forever journey, where who knows, maybe one day we will all join him.

I think of Sharon so much and can’t envisage her pain but I so admire her dignity and grace. She showed such love for her man and I hope, is proud of her part in his life and in his sad death. I feel for his Mum, as Michael said, this is not how it should be, grieving for cyour hild’s death,it’s the wrong was round.

As I said, the memorial service was beautiful, sad, happy, funny at times in remembering, and so moving. Full of love for a man who has made a difference in so many lives, even, as with me, in the lives of those he never actually met. Such a  fitting service for Mark. A beautiful memorial for a beautiful man.

Because of you Mr B. I have begun to pray again, to believe after many many lost years. You said God wouldn’t mind my absence , but would rejoice in my presence, coming back ‘into the fold’. Keep singing your songs Mark and I will keep playing them. I hope you have a red suit to wear in Heaven.

Thankyou for reading. x

 

I don’t know about you, but as a young woman, I had a picture in my mind of how life was going to be when I was older, when I reached this time  in my life. Of course I didn’t know what the future held but it certainly didn’t have the twists and turns my life has taken. Back then, it was a mix of excitement and fear, as anything new usually is. But now a days, I seem to be lacking the excitement. I look at the picture in my head of how life would be for me and those I love, at this time of my life and see no resemblance to the reality that is my today. Well I suppose that’s a little harsh, I do see a little but the picture has been smudged and worn in such a way that I can’t really see it anymore. Just the outline, using my imagination, I can visualize the original but it I  hard.

None of us knows, when painting  this picture, how outside influences will re shape it’s very essence. It is no longer a bright vision, no longer full of promise of tomorrows, because life has changed it, sometimes to form a completely different picture from the original. This isn’t how it was meant to be. The image in my head was one of peace, family, children, quiet calm and contentment. A few years ago, it was just that, so maybe I am being unfair. Back then, before 2013, I could see the future, see where we would be at this time of our lives. Healthy, happy, sharing everything we had with those we love. But life had other plans and here I am, saying; this is not how it’s supposed to be. But for a while, I believed in what my heart had put into my head, life was good and had been for a many years, so I suppose I just thought that would continue and today, the picture in my mind would reflect what I had today. But no, it doesn’t. It’s been contaminated by people, illness, outside influences that I was powerless to stop.

On marrying David, 31 years ago, on the 8th September, my life changed, a good change. My two daughters and I had been muddling along okay and I never envisaged marrying again. But then along came David and the rest is history as they say. What they don’t say is that there would be many changes, some planned and some not planned and not even wanted but change would happen. We lived in Fareham in Hampshire at this time and David was having to move to Bristol with the MOD. Not a move either of us, along with hundreds of other families, wanted to make. But we had no choice. I would have to leave my daughter and my grandsons, my brother and everyone I knew and loved. Broke my heart. I was scared but my place was with my husband. Lisa was married and settled, Marie wanted to come with us having just left university. We moved to Wales to enable us to get more land to have our horses with us. As it happened, apart from missing my daughter more than I can say, it was a good move. Lisa and her family visited and we went down to see them as often as we could, animals allowing. I retrained, after a long illness and became a professional Psychotherapist and still do this today. So the picture in my head was coming to fruition. Living in a beautiful country cottage that we renovated, was the icing on the cake. I thought we would remain there for the rest of our lives but circumstances dictated different. We then, in August, 2010, 8 years ago, moved to West Wales, and here we are today. At first it was beautiful and we were happy but even further away from family so we visited as much as we could. Lisa had become a foster mum and I was so proud of her. Every child she cared for became a member of our family, albeit from a distance but lovely when we visited to see our family grow. She had fought hard for her son, my grandson, all through his schooling as he had a few problems and never gave up trying to find the right help for him. On her own. She then adopted a little girl, a new granddaughter and those of you who know my story, know how badly that went wrong. How I found myself on the outside of their lives. That was the beginning of the tarnishing of the picture I had of our future. My dream. My mind’s eye had begun to change what it saw. I always believed, always hoped, that one day I would make this right and the picture of our future would be restored. Our family would be as one again and my life would include everyone I loved. A lovely normal way to grow old, for both me and David. He so deserves it.

In 2014, Once again I dared to dream. Marie was getting married and was expecting a baby. Again, our future was planned. I had wanted to share this news with my eldest daughter but couldn’t.We talked nothing but baby and weddings and then wallop, life socked us in the face. Marie lost the baby and I am not sure how, but decided that it was okay because she never really wanted children and so got on with her life. Me? I was devastated and still think about the child lost. She is, like David very pragmatic and saw no reason to dwell on what had happened and moved on with her life. Now married and happy, perhaps she was right. So then we again, planned our future, this time around our animals, Marie and Jason would take them on as Marie had always promised and a new way of life was beginning this year for all of us. We were downsizing, moving nearer to a little town and becoming involved with the community, something dear to my heart.

In 2016, planning this new life was still in its infancy and just as well as Life had other plans. David was diagnosed with Prostate cancer and all my readers who are part of the groups I am in, know how this is a game changer. I have written weekly about how PC affected our lives, how everything was on hold and the fear and terror that was our life for more than 2 years. That wasn’t in our plans! That was no part of the picture in my head! Not invited, not planned for and definitely not wanted! Thankfully, I hope and pray, he is out of the woods now. I say he had cancer, not that he has it but reading some posts this week has given me a worry I thought had gone for good. So once again, I am revisiting the ‘what ifs’! I am sure every person who has had cancer feels this way. David is sure it won’t return and most of the time so am I, but ‘what if?????? Where was that in my head, back in my younger years??What part of my picture was cancer?? I didn’t see it!

Earlier this year as you will know, my beloved brother, my big bear Tony, lost his own fight with cancer and that dealt me a huge blow. I am still grieving for the one person who had been there for me the whole of my life. My future included him in a big way, one way or another but cancer had other plans. Another blight on the picture in my head for my later years, I always thought he would always be there. I was wrong. This, along with my man having the ‘c’ word, the fear that traveled with me for most of my life, has returned in all its force and glory. I am trying hard to refuse to let it in!

So today, once again after making plans to move, to downsize, life hits us in the face and we are staying where we are. Not with a large family around us as my picture showed. Not in a manageable home, not in a village community but in a place we have wanted, later this year, to be a memory, not still a reality. A home, ‘here on the farm’ that we could say, ‘we used to live there’. But life had other plans and so here I am. Looking at the picture in my head and shaking it sadly.

Our expectations, as a youngish couple, for the last chapter in our lives, have to now be revisited. I have a new picture to paint. I want my daughter and grandchildren in my life and will not give up trying to put that right. I have a wonderful husband and life with him I am so grateful for. Downsizing was mostly for him as after the last few years, PC and two skin cancer operations have taken their toll. There is always such a lot to do around here, although he never complains I know he is finding it hard. We are both approaching the last era in life and need to be kind to ourselves and would if allowed. We have never just been a couple, we have always had children or a child with us and this was our time, our chance to just ‘be us’. David took me on, children, animals and all that a life before him had given me, no question. He wanted to be Dad to Lisa and Marie and granddad to my daughters children, but has been denied the chance, through no fault of his own. As we grow older, luckily very much in love with each other, I want to look forward but might just keep it a secret as to how and where. That way, ‘life’ will not be able to change the direction, steal our plans and dreams. Paint its own picture. We will just make them quietly and maybe secretly and creep over to what we really want and then tell the world, or those interested, that we have made changes. Maybe, just maybe that way, the picture in my head will return.

But one thing I surely must have learned over time, is that it is not wise to make plans. Our happy ever after has been tried and tested so much, that the image in my head is hard to focus on now. So if I want that to be my future, for however long I have left, I need to adjust the colours, the contrast or maybe change the picture completely! Make it more realistic, more credible more achievable. I am grateful for all I have, so much more than a lot of people but would love to share it with those I love. You are never too old to paint a new picture and even if someone changes it, when you are not looking, you can begin again, so I will. Watch this space!

Thankyou for reading x 

 

Oh how I wish I could go back to the days before I knew of your existence. Before you were able to touch my life in the way that you have. But even before I knew your name, you were out there, doing your nasty damage and spreading fear, pain, hurt and loss. If you were a person, would you feel proud of the devastation you have wreaked on people’s lives? No, because even pride is a feeling and you cancer with a little ‘c’, have no feelings.

One of the definitions according to ‘Collins’ is this.

‘an evil or destructive practice or phenomenon that is hard to contain or eradicate’

I will come back to this, as you know only too well the different forms you take, where you attack, destroy and kill. All of those nasty ways you physically harm the poor souls you seek out and steal from. Lung cancer,  breast cancer, pancreatic cancer, Prostate cancer etc. etc.  Done well haven’t you; no physical body part excluded, or safe from your onslaught or attack. But there are other forms, other destructive practices or phenomenon that share your name, they come in the from of  people, or entities that live amongst us, destroy our lives, tiny parts to begin with but spreading their evil to make sure the disease that is cancer, spreads far and wide and destroys in a different way than physically but destroys all the same.

I wasn’t aware at the time that you had struck, I don’t think back then, I even knew your name but when I was a child, around 11 years old, I had a friend who suddenly didn’t come to school. I called at her house many times, only to be sent away. But I am if anything, persistent and kept going back and asking if I could see her. one-day, taking a couple of friends with me, strength in  numbers I suppose, we persuaded her Mum to let us in to see Christine. After a little wait, we were shown into a dark room. We could just about see a figure sitting on the bed but it was too dark to see who it was. It was Christine, sounding very fragile and asking us not to turn on the light. I went to her and she held her hand up to stop me and I could make out a shadow of the girl I knew, thin and weak. I sat back down. We only stayed a few minutes because her Mum came and ushered us out. A few days later we were told in Assembly that Christine had died. You had taken her from us. A battle you had won. Well done you!

A few years later, when I was 18, my eldest sister was to be married and my Nan, was not too well. She didn’t get on with my mother so we could only see her when we visited her home. But despite not being well, she attended Georgina’s wedding as she has wanted. I went round on the following Saturday as we hadn’t seen her since the wedding, and found her very ill. The doctor came and told us she had cancer,yes, you won again. She had fought you for around 18 months, to see her first grandchild married. A few days later, Nan left us. A victory for you I suppose but she made you wait!

When I was a young woman, I was very close to my sister-in-law, Tony’s first wife Lin. They had a little boy. One day, she came into where I worked, a doctors practice and told me of a mole that had bled. Tony was in the Royal Marines and away at the time. After a biopsy they discovered she had been contaminated by you. A young mum and wife, a wonderful person whom I loved as  a sister and there you were. Attacking her. Why? No one wanted you there, why her??Well again, she gave you a fight. She had a second son but sadly lost her fight when he was 2 months old. Cruel and cowardly I called you then and call you still.

During the next few years, both of my sisters had breast cancer. My eldest had treatment and the other sister had a double mastectomy and implants. They fought to stay here, to beat you and at that time did. We all rejoiced but even after this, you were still a relative stranger to my own tiny world. I was outside of my family, being put there for reason I have told in earlier blogs, and although Lin and Nan’s deaths hurt me in  huge way, my sisters, we thought had beaten you.Then, years later, you returned to do your worst and Georgina lost her fight after you contaminated and destroyed her body. Feeling ashamed yet??

Back in 2012, I had a wonderful friend Mo. Funny, intelligent, kind and caring, would have done anything for anybody and there you were, stealthily creeping into her body and taking her strength and eventually her being, away from us. That’s what you do, so cowardly, creep in and no one knows you are there until it’s too late. Destroying, killing people secretly and don’t show your face most times, until its too late for anyone to do anything! Such a huge loss for her family and I know, for me. I lost my confidante, my friend, my common sense giver and speaker of how it is. Huge huge loss and great sadness for this wonderful lady. Thanks for that!

I have known of many who have lost loved ones because of you. A close friend,a lovely mum of 3 children who grew up with my girls, lost her beloved husband far too young. Another victim of your evil. Why do you do that? Why do you take good people when there are so many bad ones who wouldn’t be missed? Why? I could give you names of people who in their own way, spread their own kind of cancer, through other people’s lives. Destroy and contaminate people’s lives like you do. Take them please!

Many people had left us by your hand. Many great people, celebrities, musicians, acquaintances but I am today just tolling up those close to me whom I have lost.Our ‘relationship’ cancer, yours and mine. Not happy reading.

2015 saw me at the doc’s with a lump. I was worried but not too much so, as I have regular mammagrams becaus  of the family history but was sent to a consultant, to check the lumps. Then I was scared. Then I really thought you had come for me! Make it 3 sisters. Not if I could help it! I had biopsies after a few days of terror but found that I had inflamed milk ducts. So one in the eye for you mate!

In 2016 my beloved husband had a blood test that shattered our world. A routine test his doctor said and I suppose it is or should be. But the resulting years have been dominated by you. Pc, cancer with a little ‘c’. I refuse to give you a capital letter. Won’t do it!I have diarised the past years in ealrier blogs so won’t repeat myself but you almost own. Threatended just by the essence of a postive blood test, that David had cancer. All the horror of that day and those months are still with me but I believe we have beaten you this time. David HAD cancer but doesn’t have it now. I will keep saying this and you won’t beat us!

Many years ago, my beloved brother Tom, my big bear, was told he had 2 years to live. This was back around 22 years: he had a brain illness and that was his life expectancy. We were all devastated but it didn’t happen. He survived and we rejoiced. Then 2 plus years ago, you reared your ugly head. It was always on the cards and Tony knew that. As a heavy smoker, your aid to your destructive force, smoking, left him weak and with Lung cancer. February this year you added to your millions, one man, my wonderful, funny, loving brother, dad, husband, uncle and grand dad to many. Can you tell me why? Why him?

And now, in a different form, you have been threatening to take Ellie Mae. My precious little girl, my forever friend, my dog. Yes, she has cancer, one of the blights you inflicted. She is still having a good quality of life but we are living on borrowed time. This time it is different. Where as in all of those I have lost and everyone else, Ellie is different in that I can see you! I can see your horror, growing and changing the way she walks. I even bathe you and that’s so hard but I don’t do it for you I do it for Ellie, to make sure she is comfortable.She is in no pian but I won’t thank you for anything. She is still happy, eating, playing, sleeping but I know you will utlimately win. But not yet. Not for as long as she is happy, we will fight you all the way. She will leave us on her terms not yours.!

So there you are in all your glory. Destroying people’s bodies and lives but there is a nother kind of ‘you’. A cancer that grows at the hands or rather mouths of people. Cruel people who tell stories and lies about those they wish to hurt. And they succeed. I have a sister who is as evil as you, cancer. Her name is ‘Trisha’. She has destroyed any hope of my being close to my daughter Lisa ever again. She crept in when I wasn’t around, made up the most horrible lies and spread them to anyone listening. Those who didn’t even know me, believed her. Why wouldn’t they? People don’t tell such horrible things unless they true. Do they??? Those who did know me believed her because the stories,in my daughters’ words, were too unbelievable to not believe, if you understand. Like with you and your destructive disease, I had no idea of this happening, until it was too late. These stories have been spread to my grandsons, my family and my friends. Some since, I have back in my life, now they know it was all lies, but not my daughter. She was vulnerable at the time her aunt barged into her life and I was not around. The stories were so fantastical that it is hard to think they were made up. But they were. But as readers know, mud sticks and my relationship, that I wanted to make right, so dearly, is ruined by the cancer that was my sister.So cancer with a little ‘c’, you have a rival.

 

I wrote this on a down day but decided to post it as I it is how I feel and think.But I will bounce back, I always have and always will. You won’t destroy my intergrity, my spirit or my heart, cancer. Y u may have destroyed many I love and much I have cared for but you are not my whole story. Watch this space.!

Thankyou for reading x