If you give a little love you can get a little love of your own.

I haven't blogged in a while and I have had a lot to say - just not the time nor the energy to write it.
   When not working as a Barista:

I travelled to and back from Scotland three times this month and have spend 3/4 Sunday church services with the congregation in East Kilbride. 

I went to London twice this month as well, both times with at least one American contingent, giving them some deep British cultural education and wonderment.

I took a day trip to Cambridge with my American best friend. <3

I surprised one of my best friends for her son's first Birthday party in Dundee.

Co-made an amazing board game for Scott's Dad for Fathers Day.

And I lopped most of my hair off for charity.

So it's been a bit crazy.

But this is June. A wonderful name for a wonderful month. 

   I had promised to let you know how the whole 'hair chopping for Little Princess Trust' thing was going (apologies for not being more informative until now) but it is going and has been going amazingly. I GOT MY HAIR CHOPPED yesterday and I'm still feeling weird about not being able to twirl my locks at waist height but I'm so blessed and encouraged by everyone who has donated and taken part in this journey.
   At a last check I have raised £243.08 and need £350 in total so we're doing pretty well! I am blown away with people's generosity in this and people's kindness in the whole thing. I will be donating 7''-15'' of hair with my layers so that's quite a lot, hopefully some little girl will enjoy some shoulder length curls. I'm excited for her (or him if he's a total little rock star)! 
    If you would still like to be involved please visit https://www.justgiving.com/Rachelle-Boyns and donate what you can. The money is so the wig can be made and any surplus will go towards funding other wigs as well so it'll definitely be used for a good thing. 
 Here's evidence of the chop (and a curly experiment)!

 
Back to some Thoughts of Shelly Marie:

   One thing that has definitely been on my mind throughout the whole month is trust. I am now in a long distance relationship and find that things play on my mind perhaps more than they used to. We are most afraid of what we don't know, I guess. Two of my friends are about to go into long distance relationships as well and they share the same woes with me on this. Whilst it sounds like I'm talking about trust within the realms of fidelity and such I'm more thinking about trust in the sense of agreement. Each of us have essentially agreed to work together for the remainder of the closeness, whether that goes on for the rest of our lives or whether it passes us by. But 'what if...' is always the devil's advocate. What if one day the other person just finds you 'too much' for them to handle?
   I find myself on emotional roller coasters still and I thought I would be more level headed by now (lol). I have a desire to be able to take care of myself because there have been times in these past 21 months when I have felt so alone, so helpless, and I don't ever want to feel that again.
    I just had a conversation with my Dad about me moving back up to Dundee for Term starting back in September. I have nowhere to live at the moment, nor a confirmation of my student finance, nor a job lined up and I can't even access my University online account to check my modules to start prep work for classes. There is so much uncertainty about my return that right now that I get upset daily because it doesn't feel like it's going to happen. But it will. I have at least two months to get it sorted out and I know a lot can happen in two months...
   I've not had the best run with close friends or boyfriends past - it's hard to admit to yourself that the other person just doesn't care enough - and I'm surprised time and time again when my problems turn into hindsight and when my worries are calmed by the guy I'm proud to call mine. I am reminded to count my blessings and am assured that everything will be ok - because I am not alone. In talking to my Dad he reassures me that as a family we leave no one behind, and I know that God is looking out for me too. I'm sure He's going to spring some cool plan on me last minute and I'll wonder why I ever worried in the first place. So trust. It's a lot, but I think if I work at it a whole bunch more things will feel a lot less than they are right now. 
   No one gets left behind, and we are never alone.

B-z-b-z-b-z.

   Life has been busy busy busy recently which makes for a change from the lazy winter I had job searching etc but it means I'm tired a lot and don't write as often. Need to get myself more organised maybe... We'll get there!
   It was a lovely day today with the most wonderful morning I've experienced in a long time with a perfect cool, still, air that greeted you ever so freshly. I got to work early so got my almond filter coffee and sat reading 'A Room Of Ones Own' by Virginia Woolf, smiling at one line which I knew my Dad would appreciate;
      "If truth is not to be found on the shelves of the British Museum, I asked myself, where, picking up a notebook and a pencil, is truth?"

Anyhow, here is something I wrote just a few days ago...

[[
21 April 2013
   This morning I sat on the sofa in the living room drinking my morning tea and I thought for the first time so clearly 'I really miss Mum. And I can't believe she's gone.'
   When I arrived at work yesterday after lunch I received a text message from Dad saying "About to take to the skies in a Tiger Moth. Love you. Xxx." Dad and his friend Paul had headed out to Duxford Imperial War Museum that morning and it had briefly crossed my mind that on such a fine day, and with Paul's profession providing him with over 3000 hours of flying experience, that their jaunt might result in appreciating the vehicles from more than just ground level. So when I received this text I thought 'Dear bless us all' in a Mum-like fashion and got on with my shift. A few hours later I felt my phone vibrate, alerting me of another text message, and having forgotten about the message from Dad and it suddenly rushed back to me and the thought crossed my mind that this text could be one of more emergency... As soon as that clicked, a quivering peace reached consciousness that said 'if so, at least he died doing what he loved most', and that surprised me.
   I don't worry like I used to though, to be honest I don't see the point. I dont' worry about others as much because I realise I can not change their immediate path, all I can do is prepare myself to be ready to help with whatever consequences that may come. 
   I imagine that, should I be blessed with children, this mentality with rapidly repent but for now I will enjoy not worrying. 
   "Therefore do not worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will worry about itself. Each day has enough trouble of its own."
   So this morning I sat down on the sofa drinking my morning tea and I looked at the carpet with the dust bits on it, I thought of how I'll spend the rest of the day after church ceaning because when I get home from work in the week I'm exhausted. I thought of how Mum used to sit, with her tea on her lap, one leg over the other, with me, and how it seems a lifetime ago. It was actually 1/10th of my life ago, I think, and it occurs to me that when I'm 40 I would have lived more days without a Mum than with one, and how I have to accept it because 'that's life'.
   Though I find it's not a hard thing to accept - 6 weeks ago I struggled to remember how many syrup and coffee shots were in a Caramel Macchiato compared with a flavoured Americano but now I can make drinks for hours without really thinking about it. I know how new habits can gasp fast and how some old habits die hard if you have no choice - but it's sometimes a hard thing to believe.
   It's not a hard thing to accept but it's a hard thing to believe.
Saying that I think to when Christians take the communion and I think how it's not hard to know I'm forgiven, but believing it is another thing when I know what I've done.
]]

Dream a little dream of me...

   I had a dream within a dream. Mum was there. She came into my room (which wasn’t my room but such is the nature of dreams). I couldn’t believe it, I asked if it was really her over and over and she just smiled back at me. I tried to remember her jewelry, she wore a necklace with a tiny heart on it. I knew I was dreaming, in my dream... I just hugged her, touched her face and her arms, she had such soft skin. She looked more real that I have seen her in a long time.

   Strange to think that once she was here indefinitely and now I sometimes have trouble picturing her face.

   I don’t remember what was said other than me asking if it was really her and her smiling back. I would like to say she said everything was going to be ok. But if she didn’t verbally, she said it with her eyes. I woke up from that dream - still in another dream - and turned on the TV, as if I knew the continuation of it would be on the TV. And there I was, standing behind a counter serving people food and drink; and there she was, watching me, putting things on shelves away from the counter, facing the real me. I screamed at myself in the TV to look up and see Mum but I was so engrossed (and TV people can’t hear real people anyway). Then something strange happened, Mum called my name, to the me in the cafe with her, and I didn’t hear her. I watched me walk past her and didn’t see her, and she wasn’t upset. She smiled and I got the notion that I would only have been able to see her if I’d have needed her, and at that time I didn’t so I couldn’t. Then in the dream some people walked into my room and I glanced away from the TV for a second, when I looked back and tried to explain what had happened all they could see was a woman in the corner of the screen overlooking the coffee shop scene, to them she could just have been a customer in queue, and I was gone from the picture.

   I had a dream with Mum in it almost a week after she'd died. Mum and I were walking along the street carrying one of our white garden chairs between us. I began to limp a bit and Mum suddenly stopped, put the chair on the ground and sat me in the chair and lifted it, carrying me along on the chair. I protested because surely she wasn’t able to carry me safely but she carried on. I woke up bewildered - how on earth could Mum do that and why was I dreaming about it. I instantly told Sara about it (we’d slept in the same bed) who said maybe it was her telling me that she’s still ‘carrying me’, perhaps more than she had been able to on this earth. And I hoped she was right.

   I think dreams are amazing things. They give me precious moments that maybe never really existed, they show me things that might not be true; yet I remember them as if they do mean something to me, as if they are a part of my life. When Mum comes into my dreams it sometimes feels more real than the world I live in, because in my world Mum is there, and I wish I could dream forever. My memory of this one is already fading, I had to write it down instantly as I woke up as to not forget it completely. But I do remember her face and I do remember her hug and for now, that is enough.

   When I came on Facebook this morning I was reminded it is Mother's Day, which made me all the more glad that I saw Mum last night. Happy Mother's Day to all you special women blessed to have children. You mean more to the world than you think <3

More than words.

"Saying I love you is not the words I want to hear from you. It's not that I want you not to say, but if you only knew how easy it would be to show me how you feel, more than words is all you have to do to make it real; then you wouldn't have to say that you love me 'cause I'd already know." [v1. to 'More Than Words' by Extreme]

   As humans we are forgetful people with low self esteem, we need constant reminders of others approval towards us through 'likes', 'retweets', a constant flow of human interaction, physical proof of our accomplishments or material goods to remind us of our success. It sometimes seems that no matter how much we know or have we need more, and we need reminders of it. The same can often be applied to relationships, even if we've heard 'I love you' from someone before we need to hear it again - just in case it's the last time you get to hear it, or to check that they still do love you. If someone offers their hand 'if there is ever a need', there is often hesitation in taking them up on it - even when you know you would do the same and more vice versa. We are a forgetful and distrusting people. I'm not going to tell you to say sweet somethings to at least 10 people today, rather, don't overuse phrases like 'I love you' or 'I'm sorry'. Yes, use them abundantly but when you do - make sure mean, and show it, afterwards."Let your yes be yes and your no be no." Don't cry wolf, be sincere.

   We wouldn't need verbal reminders if our actions displayed these sentiments truly.

   As Christians we say we live by faith, not by sight. We say we love our neighbour as ourselves. Jesus first, Others second and Yourself last is the only way to achieve true Joy...
   We may say we live by faith but we overly worry about situations, waiting for outcomes or hints of the answers we want to the prayers we offer up to Him. We say we understand the concept of loving our neighbour but we talk about each other in spiteful tones behind each other's backs and segregate ourselves, we forget that we can still Love someone with opinions different to ours. We know how to have J.O.Y., but we want things now, we want things fast, and we get frustrated at others' sufferings or poorer abilities than ours hindering us. We forget the fruits Jesus told us about, of patience, kindness, generosity and self control.

   On a bitter sweet note, one thing I cannot stand is insincerity; When Mum died people would say 'I'm sorry for your loss' and I often wondered what they meant, really. I don't doubt that most people really were sorry that we would no longer have Mum with us - every day, those who knew her know just how much was taken. They were perhaps sorry that we would not have her by our side for family occasions and the other 'big' events. But I did wonder what some people meant by it, if they merely uttered the phrase because they thought it was the right thing to do. And that can be Ok, I get the sentiment of wanting to say the right thing in a can-be-awkward situation but for me I sometimes saw it as fake in a time calling for utmost humility. Death is a part of life, it's the one thing we can all count on inevitably, so why should we have such a problem with accepting and talking about it? [Pretty much the whole reason for my book.]


   So why do we say things and not live by them? Tell people we love them but forget to show them love. If only we didn't have the choice to go back on our word. If only we understood that we really don't have that choice if we are to be honourable, to live and Love like Him. 

The Sound of Silence.

   There is something quite powerful in silence. Dramatic pauses, ellipses and quizzical pondering make for memorable moments in speech and literature. But what of life?
   Today I was reminded of the silence, the calm, which comes after the storms and trials of life. Some struggles amount to mere pot holes in the path on which you have walked through life; you look back at them, triumphant. Others make as diversion signs, making you go in a different direction, and maybe one day you understand why. But there is storm that will come which will tear up all ground around you and make it so you can no longer continue on your journey, indefinitely.
   There is a school of philosophy which professes that our life is defined through our motional experience. Meaning that your 'life' is a movement. From when you stirred in your mother's womb to the last time your chest rests from breath, you would have moved on the earth continuously in bounds, strides, sways and tumbles. I find this fascinating, and for analogy's sake wonder if the idea could be stretched past motion and into sound so that our whole life is, in effect a song, and when it ends - there is silence.
   Upon finding out that one of my school friends passed away yesterday morning, I felt a calm creep into my mind. Anxieties and excitements for the week, trivial thoughts for the day and just about everything else seeped into an abyss and I sat, surrounded by silence. I regretted not keeping in touch more since we left school two years ago, I was sad I hadn't heard more of her illness to be there for her, I was heartbroken for her family and close friends to have lost so much so soon, I tried to process the thought of never being able to see her laugh again. I know that she was with her family until the end, and she had many friends who were with her through it all, and I am thankful for the good memories I have of her from past school days.
   I am reminded that we are here just a moment before we move on, we need to love each other while we can. It shouldn't take death to realise that we have a life worth cherishing, but so often it does. Even considering the death of my Mum last year, it still shocks me at how short life can really be. I know of so many who are going through life and death trials and it makes me feel useless not being able to change the outcomes. I understand that death is a part of life but, sometimes, I wish it really wasn't.

Travel Journal #1

   Hello Readers! 

Of course you've been dying to know what shenannegans I have played part in on this wonderful continent, and you shall find out all right here. I blogged the day after our arrival across the pond and if you missed it, you can read about the journey here:

http://thoughtsofshellymarie.blogspot.com/2012/09/safely-arrival-across-pond.html
Otherwise, the rest of this post will take the form of a Travel Journal, as well as future travel updates. Enjoy!

     Tuesday 18th September 

London - Chicago - Nashville - Gallatin

     Wednesday 19th September

Woke up to a beautiful poolside sight. Sat in the glorious heat for a bit, went to the church building to pick up the projector for presentations. Anna May made me a pitcher of sweet tea! Evening service at Bill and Anna May's congregation.

     Thursday 20th September

Late start, went shopping for some cowboy boots for me - no success. Looked round the Opryland Hotel, where we took lots of pictures and rode round the river on the wee boat. Went to TNT (Church youth group) with Will, beat him in pool :P then we got sweet tea from MacDonald's - Only in the South.. He then taught me how to drive in a parking lot! Introduced him to some decent British music and chatted for hours. Great times.

     Friday 21st September

Sunbathed! Something we don't get to do properly in Scotland... Dad went to see Ian Starrs for lunch and Gina came over with the boys, we chatted by the pool (as you do) then got stuff sorted for a big family meal.
   The children and grandchildren of the couple we're staying with all came over - The Carnes' (Jeff and Annette, Will and Clay), the Anderson's (Reid and Sheila, Ivieann and Allie) and the Butterfield's (Keith and Gina, Steven, David, Jonathan and Matthew). 

   Jeff brought over his guitar and after we ate we set up a bonfire and I played and sang for a bit. Lovely stuff. Then Clay, his friend Nick, Will and I drove to 'the ridge' to see the city lights at night, then casually on up to Kentucky and back. Just for a ride, so I've now been to Kentucky! Got malts from Sonic. So good.

     Saturday 22nd September

Went to Allie's softball game in the morning, she's quite the wee pitcher and her team won 12-2 so they're pretty good! Got cowboy boots!! On sale, twice over, good deal. 
Went quad biking, or 'four-wheeling' and had a bit of an accident... But I'm fine! Wasn't THAT bad of an accident, but I've got a few bruises I'll recover from easily and I bust my lip open, and they know lots of people who repair bikes... On top of that I got stung twice by a wasp, for the first time. I'm not allergic - thankfully. 

Then we went to the Grand Ole Opry (after me putting on lots of make up to cover the bruise developing on my cheek..) in Nashville - the show that made country music famous! Also the oldest show streamed on live radio - so there was an announcer who read out sponsor's advertisements which added greatly to the comedy factor. The show is a must if you're ever near Nashville, the line up changes frequently. We saw: John Conlee, Eden's Edge, Connie Smith, Mke Snider, Andy Gibson, Exile, Jean Shepherd, Jesse McReynolds, Opry Square Dancers, Riders In The Sky, Jimmy C. Newman and Lee Greenwood. Jolly Good times. 

     Sunday 23rd September

Wore my new boots to church! Exciting stuff. Had pot luck lunch with the congregation and a few people had heard me sing in the service and wanted to sing more with me so a small group of us sat on the pews and sang for about half an hour, was lovely. Some of the folk were heading to a nursing home to sing some more, so we went with them. Will and I went to Sonic after that, drove round for a bit and hung out with Clay before going to the evening service at their church. Went for dinner with Will, Clay, Nick, Caleb and his sister (church friends) at O'Charlie's then got ice cream at Baskin and Robinson's! Back to Bill and Anna May's where Clay proceeded to give Dad an hour long crash course on American football, so we're both quite clued up on the game now! 

     Monday 24th September

Up early to have breakfast with Anna May and Will. Got ready, did washing, edited photos from Saturday. Went to Walmart after lunch, got a cute maxi dress for $9! And some pj things for me, Shanae and Sara :] also some snacks for the journey tomorrow - Root Beer, Dr P, Gatorade, Ritz, Oreos and mini Snickers. Had dinner at Chilli's with Bill and Anna May, Annette, Dad, Will and Clay, then went to their church service - Can I get an Aaamen'ah. Went bowling with Caleb and Will, and I lost APPAULINGLY. Dang it. 

     Tuesday 25th September

Today I slept in, got up at about 8.30. Annette came over with Reid for lunch, we had roast ham and veg with rice, brownies and ice cream for pudding - feast! Nom. Dad and I left at about 1.30 for Henderson. Beata and Alex (children of Blackwelder's) contacted us to ask if I wanted to go with them to volunteer at a ranch which charitably, in association with a children's disability clinic, hosts sessions with physical therapists to take children round on horses  doing various activities with them whilst they practice their balance and use different muscle groups in positions on the horses. I said of course, so we met with them, and they showed me their own horses and goat and dogs before taking me to the ranch. 

It was really fun, Beata led the horse in '8' shapes, in circles and such whilst the therapist interacted with the child on the horse, Alex and I holding onto the harness to keep him steady as we went along. It was a really good experience and the wee man did so well, when we told him to kneel on the horse he went straight and stood up, clearly having seen others do it before and just thought -nope, not messing about with that, just go straight to it! Brilliant. I'll definitely look into doing it somewhere in the UK... 

   After that we went to Sonic and I got a burger and a shake nom nom nom. Then Alex drove me to Steve and Marie's. Here now, Marie and I got talking about University and English things, was lovely. Leaving for chapel tomorrow at 10 then lunch then skadoosh to Searcy! 

How do you know when you're in LOVE?

   I KNOW you're all dying to hear what Dad and I have been up to so far on our travels across the pond but we've done a lot and it'll take some time (especially picking out which pictures to show!) so you'll have to hold your horses a wee bit longer.

   I did, however, want to share with you something rather specific. We arrived in Henderson on Tuesday evening - staying with a couple Steve and Marie, the latter of which I would like to be able to say was inspiration for my Mum's nickname for me, 'Shelly Marie', but I'm not sure. We'll stick with that story though, as she is a wonderful woman, and an honour to be named after!

   On Wednesday morning we went to Freed Hardeman's chapel, before we were due to depart for Searcy that afternoon. The man doing the devotional at the chapel was really good, very well spoken and gave quite a lovely address. I will share with you what he said, in the hope you will also receive some of the same warm fuzziness in your heart that I did upon hearing his words...

   His task was to answer the question 'How do you know when you're in love?' A rather wonderful question which leads to so many prolific answers it is often considered rhetorically, without much conclusion. But this man seemed to have a pretty good answer...

   He said "It depends what kind of love you're talking about - brotherly love, family love, romantic love..." He went on to describe the feeling of being 'in-love', the butterflies, moist palms, heart-racing, gut-clenching feeling upon seeing, holding or even meeting that special someone. He asked "can it be real?" The feeling itself, of course, everyone who has experienced this will agree. But 'how real' it is, is what he moved on to talking about. "If it changed, does it get less?" Well, that depends on how it changes.
   He said LOVE, not 'love' is an "emotion, devotion and action". He Biblically expresses that you "can not serve two masters" because if you serve - if you devote yourself IN action - one thing or person, you can not do wrong to them even if you feel otherwise inclined. This is LOVE.
   He explains that to LOVE we must "Do good to them in spite of ourselves... It's a feeling, but it's your choice what you do with it."

"Some days you wont feel in love, but you don't stop loving... You never have the right to not act right."

We looked briefly at 1 Corinthians 13. 
He said you are 'in LOVE': "When everything you do is for their highest good. When you're willing I be patient and suffer with them, being kind. When you're willing to lift them up to your detriment. When you put them first, being kind and gracious to them no matter what."

"It doesn't matter what they do, you're responsible for what you do."

"When it gets past the emotion... You'll be well and truly on your way knowing that it's the real thing baby 'uh hu hu'..." He ends in a jovial tone, that last bit sounding like Elvis. It was a gooood chapel service.

    We arrived safely in Searcy on Wednesday and Thursday morning we went to the Harding chapel service. This was brilliant, given by one of the students. I shall tell you all about it later, it leads quite well into one of the points made a minute ago... 
   On a personal note - Today would have been Mum's 51st Birthday, had she still been on this earth. Dad mentioned it in his lesson in Church this morning and I found myself crying a bit in public for the first time in a wee while. It still hits me that she's not coming back in the strangest of ways. It is still foreign to me that she won't have any more Birthdays. And I'm still getting used to the idea that she's already with us, and that she is ok.


Peace and love, as always.

Remember, remember...

   I was going to write up some of my diary entries this week mirroring the last weeks with Mum last year but for multiple reasons I have not. I want to think of this as the anniversary of Mum leaving to be with our Heavenly Father, rather than dwell on the bad situations we had last year. I whole heartedly want to be open and honest about everything I have been through but feel that for this, right now, it would be inappropriate to mention certain things. You'll just have to buy my book...


   June Elizabeth Boyns was a wonderful wife, a devoted mother and a loving follower of Christ. She passed away a year ago today on the 27th September 2011. She loved so many, so brilliantly, I pray her memory and character continues to inspire others as it does me. I miss Mum dearly, every day, and every time I do something she would have loved to hear about. I have written a poem (as us writers do) and thought I'd share it with you budding blog followers.

I sat down around quarter to three

To figure out what was happening to me,

My whole life had been turned upside down,

My smiles turned into timid frowns,

My heart gone cold over emptier days,

My head been muddled with unfamiliar ways.

Pausing for a moment, an hour goes by,

I ask no other question by why, God, why?

As mortal I understand there are things which my hand

Cannot reach in terms of Universal cause,

But she was quite another - angelic, she was my mother,

Perhaps just too good for this place, so you took her, by your grace...

A year on, sometimes it feels like days, sometimes weeks,

Since she was here, but I have a comfort in knowing,

Each moment passed is one more growing

Nearer to our meeting for an eternity.

Perfect peace I strive to gain every time I awake,

That would be fainly taken on if it would come,

'Til it does I'll remain in limbo between the past and what will be,

Or until my Lord decides that homeward is also the route for me.

Safe arrival across the pond!

 

   A week ago I was in Glasgow getting the train from Dalmuir, where I had been staying with friends whose band had performed in Perth the Friday before, to East Kilbride. 
From there an American, Scotland residing, family friend let me hitch a ride home and this is what we arrived to. Intentionally waving the British flag? I think so. ;]

 
Dad and I departed the house at 0650hrs (GMT) on Tuesday morning and got a taxi to Peterborough train station. From there we went to London King's Cross, got the Piccadilly Line to Heathrow Terminal 3 and checked ourselves in to depart London at 1250. 

< Checked in and having lunch before our flight out... 


So exciting. We flew to Chicago where we picked up bags, re-checked in and took the hour flight to Nashville, Tennessee where our dear friends Bill and Anna May picked us up and took us to their house. I got some cracking photos of the sunset and cities on the flight from Chicago to Tennessee, and others from before and after our arrival. Here's just some of the lovely views I enjoyed yesterday...

Chicago...

The sun and the moon between Chicago and Tennessee...

Tennessee near Nashville...

Just like home. I have actually taken pictures enough to show you our trip - in Starbucks'! Maybe something to post later for your amusement...

 This was my wonderful view this morning after waking up SO EXCITED once I realised I was in America - going for a dip later methinks! 

   Carrying on with my original intent for this blog, here is just a brief entry from just over a year ago to remember the set up date for Mum's page on CaringBridge. The page is still running and can be found on http://www.caringbridge.org/visit/juneboyns if you're interested in seeing it for yourself.

------------------------------------------

September 18th 2011
CaringBridges page set up for people to check on Mum’s situation/ leave messages/ donations to Papworth/ PHA…
Such a loving response so far… <3

------------------------------------------ 
   In their own words, CaringBridge is for 'Connecting Friends & Family During Health Events', it helps keep people updated with progress of treatment, it allows people to donate money to a personalised cause and it provides a bridge of contact to send messages of love and encouragement to those immediately affected by said health event. Through the site we received 257 notes of encouragement which we read to Mum when possible, hearing from so many people in such loving ways was an immense comfort for her at a time when it is so easy to feel so alone.


Dad and I are about to head out for a bit to collect a projector which he will need for his lessons, a pool dip is scheduled for later, and then meeting at a local Church tonight for some good ol' worshipping. God has been good, He is good, and I have faith His will continues to do us well here across the pond.

Once again, peace and love.

Some days are good days, others are what you make of them.

   I said I would be typing up diary entries from a year ago and here's the next one, from a year ago today, which is my parent's Anniversary.

   They are the best parents anyone could ever ask for. You may disagree and say I'm biased - I am - but it's still true.

[[

Facebook status: ‘Ah pathetic fallacy, true for me in Dundee…’ (Dull, cold and dreary)
 

Night of 15th September 2011 

   Having had a power cut - *TV Shrine* with Anna - I rang Aubrey, who’s visiting Peterborough at the moment, finally got through to Dad’s mobile as they weren’t answering the home phone at 10.30pm! - Turns out Mum is in hospital. Papworth.
    She’s not good.
Worst she’s ever been, even Dad admits it.
    Dad says he thinks the doctors are beside themselves. He thinks the next thing they’ll do, if they can’t do anything else, is say ‘make her comfortable’.
    At the same time, he says it’s not a call to round up the family for last orders, but it’s pretty serious.

“I’m coming down next weekend.”
    “I don’t want you to miss classes.”
“I’m coming.”
    “I understand.”

I would do anything for Mum to be happy.

   She’s got a tube in her neck for something to lower her potassium(?!) and her kidneys are kerplunk. And they did some blood tests on her today, but a tube up her artery and it hurt her. Dad says Mum had just wanted to forget it all and go home. I totally understand that. Dad kept saying that the only thing that gives him hope is knowing that this isn’t it. He said “her condition isn’t certain - in this world at least.”
    So true.

Today was their 27th Anniversary. 15th September 2011. 27 years of marriage. <3 Best parents ever. And they really are.

   I almost wish I could be angry at her for something, so it wouldn't seem so cruel...
    -Almost.

But she is so blameless, so true. It’s just life.

Fragility, mortality, sickness, lack of something or another…
    Not her, it’s just her body.

They were meant to go to the Theatre tonight, but had to cancel. Dad said “Well, at least we got to a theatre” (surgery).
    Funny man.
Well, we all have to be, don’t we.
]]

This year has just been strange. So often I feel like I'm recalling someone else's life whilst living another. I have had some great memories and some great sadnesses, it will certainly be a year to remember. I have learned so much from others through their wisdom, comfort and encouragement, and I sincerely hope I am giving something back in way of experience, inspiration and hope. Whilst many of my posts have light hearted endings, I'm afraid that some may not - as is the way of life. Some days are good days, others are what you make of them.

   Today is the first of my parent's Anniversaries where cards will not be exchanged, nor congratulations given, and it was the first time in 8 months that I visited Mum's grave...

Getting off the bus I feel nervous. I walked to Londis to see if I could get flowers but they've stopped selling them. Down the path, on which I grew up going to school, it suddenly feels like I'm walking to an exam, butterflies in my stomach. The older graves become visible and I give a thought to all those souls I'll never know. Along the path and the moss has disappeared, cleaner stones emerge and I take a moment to consider all the families still affected by these slabs. Even further, nearing the parked cars I swallow the lump in my throat - I can't believe I have to come here to see Mummy.

   She shouldn't be here. She should be at home, her clothes are ready for her, her card making stuff awaits her artistic hand. Walking down the path to get here I clench my jaw to keep me from spluttering tears. 

   A year ago today she went into hospital. Who could have known then I'd be here now? If I had been given a vision of me sitting beside her like this then, I wouldn't have believed it. That her story could end up like this. That 365 days would link one image to the next.

   I should know she is in heaven, I should know that she's not coming back.

   But I just can't believe it. 

And I haven't been that honest with myself until now.

It is hard for me to type this and click 'Publish'. I do so in the hope that maybe I'm helping somebody understand something a little better, whether it be love, life or death. Maybe that somebody is me or maybe it's you, either way I'll keep writing and sharing, and hoping.

Love and peace.

Moving on... or not.

   Today marks 11 months to the day of Mum's death. I don't think I remember a more challenging, interesting and crucial time of my life. So much has happened, and I have the feeling that this will not stop. 
   When I was younger I would hear older people tell me how life 'passes you by' and how getting older only makes it 'go' faster. You never believe it until it happens to you, and over this year I am beginning to realise just how fast time can 'go'. 
   I am sad that I have experienced so much recently and not had Mum to talk to about it. My relationships with those around me have changed so much, many are now the strongest they have ever been. There is a phrase 'when the going gets tough the tough get going' but I would like to challenge this. I think that going isn't necessarily the answer. How about staying instead? I understand that in the phrase going refers to doing, rather than calling it quits. And I do agree with this. But in some cases we can use the phrase to justify carrying our problems with us rather than resolving them. I love resolve. It is the reason I love films - good films - TV dramas and books, because although so much happens during the story at the end of it there is a redemption, a resolve. 
   Growing up I could never sleep on an argument. I remember so clearly trying to get to sleep after having had an adolescent tiff with Mum and not being able to settle. I remember at 3am going in to wake Mum up and tell her I was sorry, and that I loved her, and going straight back to bed. I am useless when it comes to holding a grudge. I don't see the point, no good can come from it because nothing is solved by it.
   This being said when I hear the phrase 'when the going gets tough the tough get going' I am reminded that sometimes staying is the right thing to do, sometimes understanding and accepting is the right amount of 'get up and go'. Or maybe it's just me. Maybe I'm scared at how much time has passed without Mum already and I want to stop going to try and retain a little sanity in knowing she isn't that far behind. But I can not stop time, if I could, I probably would - and that isn't the best advice. 
   This month ahead of me brings the last in a first year of Weddings, Birthdays and Christmases celebrated without her. After this landmark it will be considered 'normal' to be without her, so sue me if I would like it to last a little bit longer.

RE: Peace, Perfect Peace

As I have finished my studies for the year I no longer feel the 'impending doom' pressure and hence have no need for procrastination... In saying this, my journey now is one of self assurance and discovery - not in the middle-class cheesy 'I'm finding myself' way, I know where I am, I'm here. What I seek is much bigger than myself, it is as big as humanity as a whole. What I want to find (and have been successful already) are life lessons, to share, putting my own bit in about my personal experiences as well.
   One of my friends Sophia has started a blog and upon reading her entry 'Sincerely Sophia: Dear Peace, Perfect Peace' I was inspired. It reminds me of a familiar feeling I have had over my short life so far and also of a poem I wrote a few years ago. When I started reading the post I totally agreed with everything she was saying - talking about the thrill of the chase in life, and the restlessness which can come once said goal is reached, be it to a romantic, educational, personal or professional end.
   A passion of mine, where my 'thrill of the chase' is categorised, is in passion itself. I am a passionate person. I love music. I love art. I love literature. I love being right. I love making others feel good. I love others making me feel good. I love people. There is nothing wrong with any of these things. I enjoy accomplishing something, fixing a problem or solving a puzzle. But what happens when it is got, fixed, solved? Do we take it and shove it to the side, move on to the next thing? Do we grumble at how easy it was and how fast it went, even whilst we had been trying in the first place we were frustrated at how hard it made us work? A lot of the time, yes, we do.
   Over these past 11 months - yes, it HAS almost been that long - I have learned to appreciate everything. The dreaming, hoping, praying, planning, starting, failing, trying again.. This is what most of our lives will consist of; working 9-5, 5/7 to get something to do something else, and it can be thrilling, challenging, fulfilling. But when something ends because it is finished, it is beautiful. God rested on the seventh day, looked at what He had done, and saw it was very good. Shouldn't we take the time to do the same? Even when the time for something comes to an end and we think it wasn't time because it wasn't perfect, we weren't finished, it was not complete; think of what you are actually left with, and be thankful for that.

   I am trying to cover such a vast array of subjects by saying 'something', as I think so many can apply in this situation. I think about school projects which I remember working away to complete into the small hours of the morning, handing them in not quite finished but I know I had tried my best. I think about holidays which are always more exciting to look forward to but I am left with wonderful memories to look back on when they are over. I think about relationships which didn't work out, but see how we each grew from them for the future. I think about those who's time was cut short on this earth and marvel at the works they did when they were here. It is not always up to us to decide when something starts or finishes. We are made in God's image so we have a natural urge to want to create and control, but this also means we are made to appreciate the perfect peace, the calm after the storm, so we need to let ourselves do so.

   Since my Mother passed away last September I have been in a kind of limbo where I have tried to figure out what should happen next. I have no answer for you there, nor for myself. The only thing I can think of to do is to keep going - whatever that means. I did not decide to write a book or this blog, it just kind of happened and it gave me an escape and a way to think about things, so I went with it. 

   I am realising now that I immediately started looking ahead, I didn't give myself time to appreciate what had been. I don't know the whole of my Mother's life story, I don't know what her favourite book was. I don't know what hopes and dreams she had growing up, I don't know what her bucket list consisted of... But I do know who she was, what she did and how she loved, and they are the most important things. I will find out everything as time goes on, I will give myself time to be sad in missing her, and I will make the time to reminisce with my family and friends about her for the rest of my life.

   With today's advanced technology and our familiarity with instant gratification the idea of 'meditation' can seem like such an effort, and for what? In reality, if we don't give ourselves time to process what has been we can't possibly be ready to indulge into new challenges because we wouldn't have really learned anything.
   So... give yourself a break -have a Kitkat, or a Snickers or Dairy Milk, whatever. Think about what you have accomplished in your life, be proud of what you can be, and learn from that which you would change. Remember, appreciate and enjoy; catch a glimpse of that perfect peace which will help keep you afloat when all around you feels chaotic. We can only ever do our best, but we must always make sure that it is our best.