FiGHTING DRAGONS IN THE DARK!

Life is like the weather...we can never really appreciate the warmth of the Summer sun unless we have truly felt the blast of the Winter chill.

At times it's not good to look too far down the road.
It's great to have dreams but sometimes fate intervenes!

Those of you who kindly follow me on Twitter will already be aware that the last couple of years have been somewhat of a challenge for my family.

This has motivated me to re evaluate my thinking and to make changes where I can.
'Things' are now to take second place to people.

Truthfully this will be partially out of necessity.
The family finances have already taken a battering, and now I have to consider that I may be unable to return to work.

You see, last year something happened during the night!

It was an ordinary night. 

So ordinary that I actually cannot recall anything of it.
But when I woke up I had changed.
Everything had changed.
My body didn't seem to work.
I could barely move. 

Everything hurt so much that I wondered if this is what it felt like to have a stroke! 

Or perhaps I was on my way to that 'heaven' place .. you know, the one that I actually don't believe in? 

I won't go into all that happened that day, I'm not ready to look back at it just yet.
Enough to say that it was the beginning of a journey!

How I hate that 'journey' word!
This was not something I'd planned, or signed up for. 

I didn't even have a ticket.
None of us were prepared. 

I'd not packed. 

And the laundry was still in the washing basket! 

Anyone who knows me will tell you that I would never, ever go on a journey and leave laundry in the washing basket!!!

But it seemed I was off on a 'journey' whether I liked it or not!

You see, I have a chronic autoimmune disease, and it's serious. 

There, I've said it!
I think that, until now, I may just have been somewhat in denial, not really ready to accept the reality of it all!

'Really?' I hear you say!

'Surely not?'

Well, the fact that here they've taken to calling me 'Pollyanna' may just go some way to confirming this theory a wee bit!!

It's actually been easier this way when the illness is invisible, and you apparently don't look sick. 

It reduces the anxiety of others, especially as I am not responding well to the miraculous, very expensive but toxic, chemo-type drugs that I've had to wait for months to be eligible for!
They make me sick, dizzy, freezing cold, my hair is falling out and my weight has plummeted.

But the hoped for positive stuff just isn't happening!

'But why are they not working for you?' they say!

 'I really thought that you'd be better by now.'

And 'I wonder why it's taking so long' .... followed by a silence that seems to suggest that it's my fault the drugs aren't working! 

And then there's the pain! 

It comes in waves, and it feckin hurts!
It's been said in the past, by my dentist, that I have a high pain threshold! 

But the onslaught of this pain takes over everything!

It's dragging me away from everything I was.
It distorts my time.
It's stealing my independence and my dreams.
It saps my energy.
It's so isolating.
It's destroying my self image, and my confidence.
Its scary, like fighting dragons without a sword and in the dark!

It frightens me...the fear of what may lie ahead, what may happen.
And even worse, I can't wear high heels or dance, .. yes, I really am that shallow! 

So I'm going to try and take back some control of this unplanned 'journey' 

I can't do anything about the pain, but I have to do something! 

After all, doing something, anything, has to be better than doing nothing.
In real life I am a C.P. Social Worker and a student counsellor, so I've always been able to 'talk the talk.'
Now it's time for me to put some positive energy out there, and, albeit in flat shoes, start to 'walk the walk!'

So for now it's Mindfulness, 

Gratitude,  

Live in the moment, and

Cherish the good stuff. 

All phrases I know so well. How hard can it be? 

Small bite sizes pieces. 

Do a wee bit more than just going through the motions.

Commit to only a month initially. 

Be selfish, go with your goosebumps!

And if necessary ..  and this is the real biggy .. if necessary, just fake it until you make it!

I have used the theories in professional practice successfully for years. 

Now it's 'put up or shut up' time!  

'Physician, heal thyself.' Right?

So, today I'm taking a leap into the darkness. 

I'm doing it my way, choosing my own path. 

And, just for now, I'll hold on tight to my dreams, put on my big girls boots, (sadly, the flat ones)

and try hard to appreciate the moment...dragons and all!

OH, THE DAYS OF THE KERRY DANCING......

It was said around those parts that young Megs had always had ideas above herself, that she loved herself a little too much, what with her thinking she was better than the rest of the folk reared around there.

Margaret Bridget Ellen was born in a tiny stone cottage that her grandfather and his brothers had built by hand.
The cottage was on her Uncle Jimmys farm.
The farm was in a small rural hamlet in the West of Ireland.
It was a cold, damp, dark, overcrowded and isolated home with no electricity, toilet facilities or running water.
It was a home where everything, both inside and outside, had to be done by hand.
It was a home where as much care was taken, by necessity, of the cow and the donkey as was taken of the family.
It was a home with few comforts, and one where life was exceptionally hard.
It was, however, also a home filled with laughter, story telling, dancing, music...and a lot of love!

Megs father, John, was an illiterate agricultural worker on his brothers farm.
Jimmy was the oldest of the seven brothers and had inherited the farm from their father, along with the slightly larger of the two small stone cottages.
John had been given the smaller one.

Jimmy and John had an extremely close brotherly bond, after all they had been born less than ten months apart.
It was taken for granted that they both would remain on the farm even though, in truth, there had barely at times been enough work for one man.
While John had been a necessary pair of hands before the brothers married, that was no longer the case once Jimmy had his own growing sons to help out.
Their younger siblings had no choice but to leave as soon as they were old enough to make their own way in the world.
But Jimmy always said that he would not see his brother put out on the road.
The reality of this meant however that John, accompanied in time by his older sons, would be forced to leave the home each year, mostly for Scotland, in search of any paid unskilled seasonal work in order that his family were fed through the desperate Winter months.

 

Bridget Mary was known to everyone as Bridie.
She was also known as a bright and vibrant flame haired beauty, always ready to help others with with her literacy and numeracy skills.
Bridie's father owned a large neighbouring farm lower down the valley by the river where the land was sheltered and more productive.
Bridie had just one brother, a fact that eased the financial pressure on her family immensely.
John was considered to have done very well for himself when Bridie agreed to become his wife.
It was a good marriage until, weighed down with drudgery and fever, Bridie died in her thirties struggling to bring her twelfth child Megs into the world.

Megs was different, even as a wee girl.
Perhaps this was because she grew up without a mother, or more likely because she was surrounded by the captive audience of her attentive near adult family, who adored and indulged her.
Whatever the reason young Megs grew up with big expectations for her own place in the world.

The story has been embellished somewhat through the mists of time, and it seems that nobody is exactly sure how or where Megs met her dashing and sophisticated 30 year old Frenchman.
But it is fact that she did.
It is also fact that, at only sixteen years old, Megs disappeared one misty March night with Guillaume while everyone thought she was sleeping, and nobody saw or heard her leave
And it is fact that she reinvented herself in order to leave her family and her past far far behind her

Her Frenchman took her to a life of privilege that Megs could only have imagined in her wildest dreams, so far was it from that dark damp cottage where she was reared.

Guillaume took Megs to a substantial ivy clad property situated beyond the lake and within the manicured grounds of a prestigious fee paying boarding school, an establishment that had been founded to educate the privileged sons of Ireland's wealthy elite.
He was the Head Master of that school, and by the time he introduced Megs to her new home she had acquired a position of some status ....as his wife
And the Head Masters wife was no longer known as Megs!

The distraught family looked for Megs all summer long. 
Her father, who had never truly recovered from losing his wife, searched every field and barn for miles.
Each morning John left the cottage in the rickety old donkey cart, returning each evening only as darkness fell.
They said that John aged a whole year with each day that passed.
It was only as the winter tightened its grip on the land that John was finally forced to stop searching.
There had been no sight or sound of his Megs!

John didn't survive to see the spring.
They said that, having already lost Bridie, the poor man couldn't carry on without his precious Megs.
They said that Megs had broken her poor fathers heart.
But they didn't know that his Megs didn't actually exist anymore.
Her official name was now Ellen Bridget, a subtle switch of the truth that, when added to her new married surname, had succeeded in making his Megs disappear forever.

And a switch that, for many many years to come nobody ever thought to check!

EQUINOX DAWNS.

Winters silent rest has nourished the earth and renewed its creative power, and, although it seems somewhat reluctant to release the Spring from its dominance this year, new life is stirring.
While the snowdrops and daffodils are already bravely shining out through the cold, the primroses are peeking with rather more caution for fear of another blizzard, and the bluebells are sensibly still tucked up in their winter beds!
But the wheel of the year is turning and the light is beginning to defeat the darkness.
The equinox is here. Spring has begun.
Nature is poised on the brink ready to erupt into abundant new life and renewal.

The word equinox is taken from the Latin for 'aequus' meaning equal and 'nox' meaning night, signifying the equal hours of day and night as the earth cycles around the sun.
This has traditionally been a time of feasting and festivals.
Before Christianity the Anglo Saxons had a mythological Spring goddess of fertility and rebirth known as Ostara or Eostra.
It is believed that the word Easter with its Christian celebration of the rebirth of Jesus, and the word oestrogen, essential to a woman's fertility, are both are derived from the name of the goddess Ostara.
The nocturnal 'mad March' hare was revered as sacred to Ostara, and is also a symbol for the moon, immortality, fertility and abundance.

Another lap of life and renewal has begun.The confrontation between the forces of darkness and light is well underway. Eventually the light will win, and the sun will return to warm the earth with its magical rays.
The apple blossoms will burst from their teasing buds frilled with pink blush.
The willows will show off their catkins in all their dread-locked glory.
Spring green leaves will gently unfurl.
Sleepy hedgehogs will snuffle from the undergrowth, and fat languid bumblebees will busy around again in pursuit of pollen.
Everyday will now bring noticeable changes as the eternal battle of nature rages.

And finally, March 20th is also the first annual International Day of Happiness as organised by the United Nations.
So turn that frown upside down and smile, my lovelies, and do more of whatever it is that makes you happy. After all its free, it may actually be contagious and Summer is now finally on its way!!

ONE MIDSUMMERS EVE, SHE TOLD ME SHE SAW FAIRIES .....

You tell me you see fairies, you watch them twirl and fly.
You say I do not see them 'cos they're very very shy,
And very very magical, and very very wise
And only ever show themselves to wide and wondering eyes.

If I sit still beside you, you say I might just catch
Their game of Tag, or Hide and Seek down by the cabbage patch.
All are draped in spider silk newly spun at dawn,
One has just washed out her wings and looks a bit forlorn.

Their laughter rings like bluebells, their smiles are sunbeam bright,
They dance and play the whole day long and never, ever fight.
By night they gather moonbeams all shiny, new and clean
To weave a silver coronet, a gift for Rose, their queen.

They dip it in a rainbow so it shines with every hue
And spangle it with diamonds gleaned from the morning dew.

The elves are mounted on their steeds - field mice sleek and brown,
Riding out to gather in the bags of thistledown,

To stuff the tiny pillows, and the duvets soft and deep

To keep the fairies cosy when they snuggle down to sleep.

You tell me you see fairies where I see leaf and stalk,

I hear the wind a rustling, but you hear fairy talk.

There has to be a reason, and that must surely be 

That I'm a grown up Mummy and my love, you're only three!

So before you leave your childhood, as my darling one you must,
I pray that they will sprinkle you with silver fairy dust.

Then when years have flown, you're all grown and perhaps yourself a wife,
You will always see that magic in the cabbage patch of life!

WHEN I'M AN OLD WOMAN....

My alternative take on Jenny Josephs poem
When I'm an Old Woman I Shall Wear Purple.

When I'm an old woman I'll live with each kid
And bring so much happiness, just as they did.
I'll be able to pay back the joy they've provided
Returning each deed, won't they be excited?

I'll draw on the walls in bright coloured hues
And bounce on the sofa wearing my shoes.
I'll drink juice from the bottle, and then spit it out
All over the carpet - oh, how they'll shout!

When they're on the phone and just out of reach
I'll make a up a concoction of cornflakes and bleach.
They'll snap their fingers and then shake their head
And wish it was time to send me to bed!

When they cook me dinner and its time to eat
I'll say I no longer eat veggies, or meat.
I'll gag on my pasta, spill milk on the table
And when they get angry, I'll run - if I'm able!

I'll rack up their phone bills making my dates
And take over their houses with all of my mates.
I'll ask them for money for new shoes, and lifts,
Then deafen the neighbours with one of my tiffs!

I'll refuse to dress smartly, or wear socks on my feet,
My purple DMs will look kinda neat!
I'll have pink in my hair, and maybe a plait
And top it all off with a straw cowboy hat!

I'll paint my nails green, with glitter on too
Ruby red lipstick and eyelashes blue!
I'll get surly and stroppy if asked to wash up
Then give them 'that look' when I break a cup!

I'll go out with my friends and 'forget' the time
Then phone for a lift when they've opened the wine!
When they threaten to ground me, I'll pretend not to care 
Then claim not to remember cause I'm GOING to The Fair!!

I'll play music so loud their house will be shaking
Then come for a chat when a nap they are taking.
Yes, when I'm an old woman I'll live with my kids
And bring so much happiness......

 .............JUST LIKE YOU DID!!!

WHEN YOUR CHILD CRIES.

Babies cry.
They all do at some point. They really do.
Its their way of letting us know that something isn't right in their world.
We, as parents, learn to recognise that.
We try our best to deal with whatever it is that is upsetting them, and hope that we get it right.

She is my beloved child.
She is no longer a small girl, but she will always be my beloved child.
When the stork decided which child to give to which mother, somehow I came up trumps.
I still don't know what I did to deserve this honour, but amazingly it happened.
Destiny chose us for each other.
I definitely got the better end of that deal!
She is a gift that I have never ever taken for granted.
I have loved every second, even the most trying...and believe me, her teenage years were a nightmare for us both!!
I would still give my life for her life in a heartbeat, and without a backward glance.
It would be a totally fair exchange.


'I will have your back forever'.
This is a modern saying, and not one that truthfully I would have used when she was a wee dote.
But it is one that best expresses the feelings that I had back in the day, when she was a tiny bundle that fitted into the crook of my terrified teenage arms.
And it is a promise that I truly believed that I could keep.
I hoped that I could protect my child from pain, that I could kiss away the bumps and bruises, that I could  wipe away the tears and make everything better.
And for her lifetime I have really tried my very best to do so.
Together, we have dealt with her losses.
The loss of an opportunity, of a boyfriend, of her parents marriage and even the loss of much loved grandparents.
But I cannot fix this.
Not this time.
This is far too enormous for a kiss, or a hug, or even talking far into the night to make right.

That same stork had apparently decided that it was time that she had her very own daughter.
The world was revolving, and now it was to be her turn.
We were all overjoyed.
She had felt her move. We all had.
She had seen her heartbeat. We all had.
She had seen her face on the precious scan pictures. We all had copies.
Our wee one had already been papped, we joked!
She had chosen her name.
We all joined in that one with great hilarity.
She totally refused to consider anything whimsical that she suspected may turn up one day in a Tinseltown magazine!!
She had a baby shaped space in her heart, a beautiful nursery ready and waiting for her, and so many plans and dreams for her future.
She had fallen in totally in love with her.
Actually, we all had!

But this was not to be the way of things.
My child's child was not destined to be a part of our family.... and my child's heart is in pieces.
If her heart is shattered then mine is also, and this time I cannot kiss it better.
This time its far too big a break for that.
And I don't know what to do other than hold her,
tell her that I love her...
and pray that she wont cry for ever.

And so today we all said our farewells,
our.....bye for nows,
and our.....see you again one days.

Our final goodbyes to our wee little perfect angel.

She was here for the briefest moment
and she was gone again in a whisper,
a heartbeat.
But she will remain in our hearts forever.

So, go fly little one...we all love you. xxx

WINTER SOLSTICE and YULETIDE.

Christmas time with all its sparkle and glitter is now definitely upon us.
However, there is a far older celebration from which many of our contemporary traditions originate.

Since the dawn of time the festivals of the Winter Solstice and Yuletide have been a time of ritual and celebration.
Yuletide was a 12 day midwinter festival  that began on the day of the Winter Solstice.
In ancient Latin the word Solstice literally means 'sun stand still'.

It was an important time not least because communities could not be certain that they would survive the winter. Starvation was common and life expectancy short.
Once the sun had gone down, and fearing that it may not return, neighbours would come together in the spirit of goodwill and celebration in an attempt to ensure that the sun was reborn.
With fire being the only light available to them in the darkness of winter, they would burn a huge log for the whole 12 days, retaining a precious portion to start the log burning ceremony with the following year.
This was believed to guarantee return of sunlight bringing with it hope for an abundant and plentiful harvest.
Mistletoe, Ivy and Holly were held in great reverence, and considered to have mystical properties.

In astronomy this is the time when the earths orbit tilts away from the sun bringing the colder days of winter.
With each passing day after the Winter Solstice the earth begins to tilt back to face the sun again, signally the return of Spring.
The Winter Solstice, or the shortest day, is the turning point when the days begin to grow longer and lighter, the rebirth of sunlight as the dark wanes and the sun waxes.

Interestingly, many of our Christmas traditions can be traced back to these ancient times....
the twelve days of Christmas, the Yule log, candles and tree lights, holly, ivy, mistletoe and, of course, feasting and partying!

And, while it may be a time yet before the Winter passes, it will pass and the sunshine will return.

So, whatever you are doing and whoever you are spending it with,
I wish for you all a warm, plentiful and peaceful Winter Solstice and Yuletide...

.... AND THE HAPPIEST CHRISTMAS EVER, FILLED TO THE BRIM WITH JOY, LOVE AND MORE LAUGHTER THAN YOU KNOW WHAT TO DO WITH!!  XXXXX