One Day in Twelve Years

We hugged like we might never let go, and stared into each others faces with tears in our eyes.

The last twelve years melted away instantly. It could have been only yesterday since we had last seen each other, spoken to each other in person, shared a meal, and chatted and laughed whilst sharing a cup of tea.

She hadn’t changed one little bit over the years. Sure, she had aged slightly in appearance; so had I. But it wasn’t the physical appearance that mattered, but the essence of the people we are, our personalities, our souls.

Where we came from. The 50% DNA we share and the fact that we are 99.95% biochemically identical, although it isn’t the scientific statistics that I feel. It’s more, much more.

We are sisters. We share a history.

And a wonderful history it is too!

We laughed and reminisced, as we leafed through old photos, remembering holidays we had taken, and visits to our grandma’s home. We talked about the love we felt for some favourite uncles, and the lack of understanding toward our elder relatives that we had as young people, yet the understanding and acceptance becoming crystal clear when we reached adulthood.

Being thirteen years older than I am, she recalls another life, many years before my birth, of living in another country. She spoke of the home she had lived in back then, playing with our sisters in the garden, the park across the road, her first school, the furniture in the home and how beautifully our mother kept that home.

She spoke of the wild flowers growing in the fields, in the country of her birth; she remembered visiting the grave of our grandfather and the beautiful park-like setting which surrounded his last resting place.

We spoke of our eldest sister, now lost to us, and the demons that she couldn’t shake out of her life, and the bitterness she carried with her to her last days, developed over incidences out of her control, out of anyone’s control. She could never let go of her pain, her resentment. And yet we both loved her so dearly.

My youngest son, who had no recollection of his auntie, asked me to show him a photo of her before she arrived. He didn’t know her, he didn’t want to be shocked by not recognising her. I told him not to feel concerned, he’d know her when he saw her.

Within minutes of them meeting, as she laughed and talked and waved her arms around her in an animated manner, my son’s head turned suddenly towards me. He looked straight at me and then at my sister, with recognition in his eyes.

He knew her. We were the same. He felt the familiarity of her soul.

One day in twelve years is not enough, yet it is plenty. It was all we needed.

And then she was gone again, yet she remains with me, always in my heart.

My heart is enriched. She’s always there.

Read Full Post »

Overcoming My Identity Crisis

One of my cherished babies…

This morning, a recently retired friend made mention of how he now needed to find a new identity. For so many years he had defined himself by his career. Now, with his career behind him, and multiple choices open to him, he is left with the dilemma of “Where do I go from here?” and “How do I define myself now?”

His quandary reminded me of time, perhaps four to five years ago now, when I faced my own identity crisis.

My situation wasn’t brought about by retirement though, or even a change of career. It was all due to a light-hearted comment made in jest by my son.

He casually remarked to me that when all four of my children had left home, I would be phoning them up every day, asking did they have any washing and ironing for me to do, and would I bring it home because I had nothing to do with my day.

My immediate reaction was “What the….?”  closely followed by self-defence….”You have no idea how many things I want to do when I don’t have you kids here to run around after. Do you realise how many hobbies I have? What makes you think I enjoy running around after you all? Don’t you realise….”

Well, no, they didn’t realise, because I did give the impression that my entire life revolved around my children. Because the truth of the matter was, it did.

The time had come for some very serious soul searching!

By way of beginning somewhere, I cast my mind back to who I really was, alone; back to the days when I wasn’t anyone’s girlfriend, wife or mother ~ just me.

It’s a shocking wake-up call when you realise that the once independent person that you were, has gradually become the doormat for every person in her world, without even realising what was happening. The changes had just snuck up on me, over a period of years, and I had been blind to the fact.

There’s an expression, “many a true word is said in jest”. I thank God that my son had spoken those words of truth to me.

When my husband and I had first got together, I found myself repeatedly using one particular catch cry; “I’m not a female version of you”. I constantly fought for my rights to be an individual, to remain independent. Being married to a strong willed man, I found myself in a constant battle of wills.

I was determined not to lose my identity; I wanted to remain being “me”, and not “someone’s wife”.

Becoming a mother was a whole different matter to me though. Oh how I have always loved, cherished and adored my children! Those tiny little people needed me, to survive, to grow, to guide them along a path where they could grow up to become strong, individual, worthy adults, with the freedom to develop their own identity, individuality and free-will, all of their own choosing.

And during guiding my children into their own individuality, I had lost my own, somewhere along the way.

By stripping back every single aspect of “who I had become”, I was able to begin with “who I used to be”…before.

That was my starting point. I had enjoyed reading back them, and writing. I had been a compassionate person, and non judgemental. I had loved history, antiques and research, soft fabrics and comfortable clothing. I was simply dotty about my animals!

There I was; that was me! It felt like I had bumped into an old friend, who I hadn’t had contact with for years. We were becoming reacquainted again!

My family, yes, even my children, balked at some of the changes in me. I had learned how to say the word “no”. When they persisted and pushed me, I would respond with “what part of ‘no’ don’t you understand?”

I had to be slightly harsh on my children to set an example. Did I want my children, especially my two daughters, to ever become devoured by what other people expected them to be?

Did I want my own children to make the same mistakes I had made? Hell, NO!

My sons coped with the changes more readily than the girls did. And as for my husband, what did he think?

He hated it! But you may also remember that I mentioned before that he is a very strong willed man. Some people find him intimidating. I always saw him as strong. Yes, he was strong, he is strong.

I made the mistake of allowing his strength to overpower me. And now he doesn’t appreciate the loss of control, but he has no other choice than to accept it. He’ll survive.

Finding your own identity is probably the most individual, and definitely the most personal decision we are faced with in life. You have to make the choices for yourself, and alone, because you know yourself, better than anyone else in this whole world does.

I’ll always be a mother, first and foremost. If one of my children needs me, I’ll be there. I’ll always adore, love and cherish these four beautiful human beings. They mean the world to me, but they are not my whole world.

And they don’t define me any longer.

Now, when I think of who I am, I see me, an individual, standing alone. Yes, there are other people on the outskirts of “me”, who mean the world to me, but I am no longer living my life at their beck and call.

I’m a ‘grown-up’ now, I stand on my own two feet, I’m an individual, and I can say the word ‘no’, without choking!

And I have more love in me to give to others now, than I’ve ever had before.

Read Full Post »

Heather

I spent most of the day yesterday thinking about friends.

And friendships.

And how important it is to have people, namely friends, in our lives.

One friend in particular has been on my mind constantly for a number of weeks now, as she has nursed her husband of over thirty years through the last days and weeks of his life.

When Heather and I first met, about three years ago now, I felt immediately that she was a woman of strength and wisdom, honesty and courage.

And love. Heather has a heart full to brimming over with love, love for her family, her friends and neighbours. She epitomises the word love, so it came as no surprise at all to watch Heather’s friends rally to her side in her time of need.

When Heather faltered in her faith and strength, her friends were there to give her the courage she needed to make it through the day.

Prayers and good wishes were sent across the entire world, from people who wished to be her strength at times when Heather didn’t feel she had the will to go on.

I, too, sent Heather words of encouragement, prayers and love, along with everyone else who is proud to call her their friend, many of whom, like myself, have never met Heather.

As the days progressed and the health of Heather’s husband deteriorated, she continued to open up her heart, along with their lives, and share the journey that the family was taking; the joyous, priceless moments, of which there were many, along with the pain and the tears, as they all witnessed the husband and father who they all loved so dearly, slipping away from them.

Where did Heather find the strength to share, on a daily basis, the incidence of her life? Many days I would read her words and marvel at this woman of courage and faith.

And as Heather continued to record her feelings and bare her soul to her friends, more and more friends appeared to offer her support, to help carry her through this journey on the days when she felt she could walk no further, to be a crutch to her when she just needed a little encouragement to carry on.

Heather recorded her weak and faltering husband, as he had requested a moment himself in which to personally send thanks to those who offered their family words of encouragement and love.

I am totally in awe of this family! What a privilege it is to call Heather my friend! Never before in my life have I witnessed such an out-pouring of love, appreciation, strength, belief, courage, wisdom, faith and honesty, and all from a family who were living through one of the most tragic times in their lives!

Heather’s husband took his final journey just a few hours ago, and I would like to share the words which Heather wrote after she had rested. I wish to remember these words forever ~

“Heather woke up HAPPY and PEACEFUL and filled with JOY. I cannot explain it, but I have so much to share with you all over the coming days. The smile on my beloved’s face after he passed…the cessation of suffering and the radiation of peace is forever emblazoned on my eyes, mind and heart. I just want to SING GOD BE PRAISED!!!!!!!!! I was right there, in his face as he took his flight. I was laughing and smiling and glorifying God and his eyes were bright and you could feel the energy as he left. It was so amazing. Farewell, my one true love. I will miss you, but oh the memory of your passing is so incredibly beautiful. Thank you, thank you, thank you.”

Only a heart of stone could not be moved by Heather’s words.

As I write, I struggle to see through the tears in my eyes; tears of sadness over the loss which Heather’s family must endure, tears of joy as I recall the happiness they have found during the darkest of days and also tears of pride as my heart is bursting, as I marvel at the strength of my friend.

Through Heather’s eyes, I have seen the pure love throughout the world, love which makes no demands and no promises, has no expectations and is totally, completely and absolutely unconditional.

And friendship. I will never underestimate the power of friendship, of opening your heart and your arms, and welcoming people into your life.

Thank you Heather. Thank you for being my friend, for opening your heart, for your honesty, your wisdom and your belief.

Photo credit – Barbaraellen Koch (Photo taken the night Heather’s husband made his final journey.)

Read Full Post »

Happy Birthday to Anne, With Love.

“To have a loving relationship with a sister is not simply to have a buddy or confidante; it is to have a soul mate for life.” ~ Victoria Secunda

It would be Anne’s birthday today; my big sister, my mother figure, my best friend.

Just after I bid Anne adieu for the last time, I found a poem, “Fairy Song”, which reminds me of my sister every time I read it, for Anne is the butterfly I see fluttering through my garden, the bird song I hear each morning and the beautiful rose nodding its petals in the breeze.

Happy Birthday, my Dear Sister. xxxxxx

Fairy Song ~ John Keats

Shed no tear! O, shed no tear!

The flower will bloom another year.

Weep no more! O, weep no more!

Young buds sleep in the root’s white core.

Dry your eyes! O, dry your eyes!

For I thought in Paradise

to ease my breast of melodies -

Shed no tear.

Overhead! Look overhead!

‘Mong the blossoms white and red -

Look up, look up. I flutter now

On this flush pomegranate bough.

See me! ’tis this silvery bell

Ever curses the good man’s ill.

Shed no tear! O shed no tear!

The flowers will bloom another year.

Adieu, adieu – I fly, adieu,

I vanish in the heaven’s blue -

Adieu, adieu!

Read Full Post »

Anne ~ Revisited

“Character cannot be developed in ease and quiet. Only through experience of trial and suffering can the soul be strengthened, ambition inspired, and success achieved.” ~ Helen Keller

I’m a strong believer that all of life’s experiences are offered to us to teach us something. In a fairytale life, we may imagine skipping through fields of flowers, hand in hand with our loved ones, with never a quarrel and not a care in the world. As idealistic as this may seem, how would we develop strength of character, and wisdom, if we were all living in a perfect world?

My family is very dear to me. Every member of my family holds a special place in my heart, always. I was blessed with parents and sisters who always promoted honesty and respect, between ourselves first and foremost, but equally towards friends and strangers. I have promoted these same traits to my own children.

By and large, these teachings of respect and honesty have carried me steadfastly through my entire life to date. I am able to speak freely and honestly with both of my two elder sisters, just as they can with me. It’s an unspoken agreement that we have. And I value my honest relationships with my sisters more than any words can say.

This time last year I began a series of stories here about my eldest sister, Anne. The relationship that I shared with Anne could at times be rather tumultuous, to say the least. She could also be my closest confidant, my dearest friend and the first person I would turn to when I needed a mother figure.

Overall, Anne and I shared an honest relationship, although at times, Anne’s honesty could be just a tad overdue, with proclamations of honesty being put forward sometimes years after the original event!

Perhaps this paragraph, written by me on March 12, 2011, explains more clearly what I mean ~

“Most of my discrepancies with Anne were due to her taking something I had said in total innocence, totally out of context. And the worst of it was that she wouldn’t bring up the matter which had ruffled her feathers until long after the incident was over and long forgotten.”

Whilst I didn’t particuarly appreciate this characteristic in Anne, I tolerated it, just as all members of our family did. We all loved Anne, and in loving her, we all, at times, experienced what could easily be called “character building moments”.  She taught us all a lot, especially patience, and how to bite our tongues and be respectful towards her, when she was trying us to the limit!

Anne has been gone for over four years now, and the series of stories I wrote last year about my relationship with her were prompted by the turmoil I felt about my relationship with my sister. It is difficult when unresolved feelings keep on biting at you, when the one person with whom you can talk to about these feelings is no longer living.  You have to figure out a way to finally accept the relationship you had with them for what it was, without harbouring any grudges or ill-feelings. In short, you have to learn to forgive.

With Anne, I could do that, although some days I would think of her and the urge to go to the phone and call her up for a chat have been strong and the reminder to myself that I no longer have the luxury of phoning her has instantly made my heart plummet.

It was a personal achievement when I realised that I could finally lay my mixed feeling and emotions about Anne to rest. Unfortunately, though, some of these feelings raised their ugly heads again recently, in the form of Anne’s daughter.

During a series of emails, my niece accused me of being cruel and judgemental towards her. And here’s the punchline – it was all regarding a comment I had apparently made to her, perhaps seven years ago!

It was “Anne – Revisited”!

When I say it was a comment that I “apparently” made, this is because the comment was not something I would have ever have said to anyone. At first, when the accusations were made, I was angry. I felt like I had felt about Anne. My niece had taken something I had said years ago out of context.

Minutes after the anger, though, I felt strength in my soul, all due to the trials I had experienced with Anne, when she was still here.

When I told my niece that her mother did what she was now doing, which was not addressing a subject which had apparently bothered her enough to resurrect the topic again after so many years, rather than being honest at the time of the conversation, I was told, “well at least now I know how you feel about my family”.

Anger again raised its ugly head. Her family? Anne was my family too! My niece did not have exclusive rights to a relationship with my sister, which I pointed out to her, immediately. To my niece’s credit, she replied by saying “point taken”.

After harsh words with Anne, I would agonise over how to rebuild our friendship, because she was my sister and I loved her.

I am not agonising over Anne’s daughter though, nor do I feel any remorse.

My experiences with Anne developed and built my character. The suffering and trials were worth it. I have realised my ambition of easily moving on, regardless of conflict with my niece. She didn’t offer me honesty; I owe her nothing.

My sister, bless her, taught me well. Finally, I can walk away from the anger and pain.

“Bless a thing and it will bless you. Curse it and it will curse you…If you bless a situation, it has no power to hurt you, and even if it is troublesome for a time, it will gradually fade out, if you sincerely bless it.” ~ Emmet Fox

Read Full Post »