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The way i feel it

So the way I am, I’ll tell you but only if you really want to know….do you really want to know?
On the good days, I’m walking through a meadow that is fresh and clear, I breath in the green and out the zest and I fell fresh, all is good here, all is healthy. The grass has grown so high, I brush it with the tips of my fingers, it makes me smile and I twirl round like a small child until I fall flat on my back.
I stare up at the sky, it is cerulean  blue and I wonder where everyone I love might be going to, sky trails mean absent love, then they thicken and group together. Are you still with me?

The clouds are like spider webs, some memories are so strong, but some are wispy and gray and clump together like bad custard.
When the sky is clear  I can answer any questions put to me,  I can answer clearly and succinctly .  I am smiley, happy and everything is good.
I go about my business everything dirty is washed, the floor is hovered, the kids are taken to numerous trips, homework is done, lunches are done, bedtime routine is done and I look after my husbands most basic needs. This is how most people know me. I smile and always say “it’s all Okay, I’ve got this” the funny thing is, deep down inside me.

Whilst I do have “this” I don’t have myself. I’m crying out in pain, tears streaming down my cheeks, screaming to the heavens, saying over and over “I can’t deal with this, I can’t deal with this, I can’t deal with this”  But I turn my face to the furnace and submit to carry on.

Sometimes though there are shifts.
So I’m on the mission, I’m walking on the ground, it’s firm, grass on either side and as long as everything is OK I travel on… however the problem is that this is a metaphor for the good times, when it is all stable. Sadly life is  not always constant, and in my life there constantly seems to be something to challenge me. So comes a time where I  really have to climb a mountain. I’m not sure I you can reach the summit but I know I have to try, I know I have to reach it.
So I start walking and the pathway is clear but the further on you reach the dustier and the graver the path becomes, the ground starts to shift beneath you with each step, the ground literally melting beneath your feet and every step becomes a mission, you know you have to move on but your starting to wade through sand, then mud, then clay and you are stuck.
What can you do, everyone else seems to be walking through the mud all OK but you are stuck….what to do?
You can’t see clearly, you don’t understand and you become very frustrated, you panic, you start doing things that you don’t like but you think they will get you through the mud. All you are doing is burying yourself deeper and deeper. Somehow you are able to help everyone else but yourself.

I love my daughters but desire a son

So here we are. My husband said that in the new year we could conceive our last baby.

But he’s turned his tail on this and it’s broken my heart.

He’s escaped blame by saying that he never promised this…well to my understanding it was so.

We are caught up in various financial issues. Trying to buy our first house…it’s been so farcical I’ve lost interest.

But the worst part is that his work have said he might  be offered a contract to work abroad.

He’s becoming my Dad….someone who lets me down then abandons me.

My Dad Died

For much of my life I had my Dad on a pedal stool. In some lights he was a man to look up to, he certainly succeeded in many areas of his life. But he made some huge crucial mistakes.
I love my Dad and I’m torn to shreds over the last five years of his life where our relationship deteriorated into something I would describe as hateful. He was so caught up in his obsession with a woman he fell in love with after my mother, he didn’t stop to think how talking about her, hurt me and insulted the memory of my mother. To rub salt in the wound he also rewrote history placing much blame at my deceased mothers door and making her look like a villain.
I know I am far from perfect, but I am the result of my parentage or at least that’s how I pass the blame…which is what i was taught to do.
We had a fight over the phone and I thought we had made up, but we hadn’t.
He died on my birthday and then i found out he had written me out of his will….disowning me…the sick joke being his bugbear in life was his mother abandoning him. He knew how much it hurt and he did it to me.

What happaend when I went home

My fathers doctors phoned me and told me I needed to come home, of course, they euthanized him before I got there and he died on my birthday .
I walked around Hong Kong airport…in the last hours of my dad’s life….coming home to him, I think he would have liked that. I had memories of being there with him, but I just wanted to come home to my brothers.
flying – movies, crying, but it was weird to watch a movie the whole way through.
Reaching home, coming through immigration and seeing my brothers sitting there, sad as Sunday, I ran off saying i needed a cigarette, and they followed as I lit that cigarette I knew I had arrived too late, I said “he’s gone” and they said yes, I held them to me and said “it’s going to be alright”.

Matt told me he’d taken 3000 out of my dad’s account, while he was still alive, thinking whatever an arsehole thinks .

registering the death. I knew my brother had n0 money so I paid for the death certificates, The man registering the death told me he knew I was strong.

being at the solicitors
the hurt of being found i was cut out of the will and then the solicitor bitch explanation, she didn’t know me but seemed to speak as if she was best friends with my dad and I had it coming
being cut from the will
cleaning the house
dissolving in tears
singing out loud to songs
sorting everything out
being scared to take anything from the home


seeing his body at rest, remembering how white his hands were
organising the whole funeral

getting lost finding the crematorium “follow that hearse”
walking hand in hand behind the hearse, hearing my brothers so and squeezing their hands

scared, for their future, but also realising that

telling them we could get through this, might set them free

I could go were Ii wanted  but I would always be there for them

For My Dad

David William Chapman Gray was Born on the 4th of November 1945.
Dad was a bright child who excelled academically and in sports. He could have played football or cricket for GB, but fate made it not to be. Academics then became his passion. My family know well his boast that he won a bet reciting Julius Ceaser backwards. Dad was also a controversial boy who liked to write with green ink despite his teachers telling him not to. My father did as he liked. Rocking the boat and testing authority.

Dad met my mother Mavis at a football dance where he played wingman to his best friend, literally keeping my mum busy so his friend could romance hers.
After three months of dating he proposed and Mum said No, he kept asking her and told her he wouldn’t let her go to sleep until she said yes, she eventually crumbled under the pressure. My Father was a very determined man, something I have a little of.

My parents were married on Oct 1969? and they celebrated with sparkling wine.
One Christmas my parents had invited my aunt and uncle over for lunch and my mum was upset as she hadn’t taken the chicken out of the freezer the night before and it was frozen solid, my father then said something that upset my mum so she threw that chicken at him, she was further incensed that he caught the chicken and proceeded to run it under the tap thereby defrosting it. I’ll remind you, A good sportsman and an academic.

Matthew arrived Dec 21 1972…very late, my mother was about 43 weeks,  my father adored him the feeling was mutual, Matthew hated my dad going to work, so much so he would cry and beg him not to leave. My father once had to save him from a deep pond he’d stumbled into. He went down, then bobbed up, went down then bobbed up, went down and on the third time my Dad caught hold of him, so the story goes.

Timothy arrived August 29th 1976…very soon, it was touch and go but My Dad stayed by his side to watch him and look after him, to ensure everything be done to keep him alive. He did live, everyone thought he was gorgeous, with his golden brown hair and cheeky grin he became our dependable hero.

I arrived May 17th 1980, … All the arrival cards I’ve read. seem to suggest I was long awaited. What I do know is once I was born my mum said to my dad “thank you”. After two boys they were keen for a girl.  I was later told by my father that I was conceived in a shower, in pontins, standing up. a fact of which he was very proud. I can only assume that I get my inappropriateness  from my father. Broke he bought a red dress for me.

My Dad had really big hands, the kind of hands that as a small child I felt safe holding. I don’t remember my Dad being around much in the mornings as he went off to work in London quite early. But he was often home to give us baths and read us stories, case in point my father taught me to read.
Dad used to treat us by making banana splits sometimes, they were his specialty, he was always disappointed if we ate the ice cream and left the banana, they grow on trees but money doesn’t apparently . I remember though that his favourite ice cream was tuti fruiti and we weren’t aloud any of it. Don’t misunderstand me, My Dad was a very generous man, just not with his food.
My Dad was a kind man, a funny man and a warm and loving man to his family. He loved Elvis, Barbara Striesand and Neil Diamond. He was a Man City supporter. He liked sugared almonds, marzipan and liquorice allsorts.
He liked winning at trivial pursuits, he loved winning.
And loved reading.
Dad told me that he made mistakes but he always tried his best, which is all that anyone can do.

You the Dragon and me the Horse

Your eyes were always my weakness, that and your unshakeable ability to love me, I had no esteem back when we were young, and didn’t always consider how best to treat others. Your soul belonged entwined with my love for  you, for your kindness to me, your love to me and the understanding we have of each other.
Your hands are no strangers to me and I welcome them, when before I pushed them away.
We are the culmination of two hearts and I know we should have been together but our egos kept us apart.
It’s possible one day everything will be different, either that or we will throw caution to the winds of fate. I don’t know what our future holds, but I know I will always  be your slave. what ever you desire let me give you.

You make this all go away

I try so hard to escape those past dragons. They have such marvellous wings though, the way they breath fire and smoke. I’m drawn in and I’ll dam myself by letting myself keep hold of something I can never have.
How could anyone blame me when they hold such shiny, well cut crystals. When they hold so much power and strength.
But these dragons don’t seem to care so much about me, so why do I hold onto them?

Ade’s Birthday Poem 2014

Ade’s Birthday Poem 2014
cartwheels, carwheels, cycles, circles, round and round the seasons go.
Birth and laughter, giggles, dancing, learning faster as you grow.

Headaches, heartbreaks, homes behind you, reap the plants that life did soe.
Hold me closely, not too tightly, gentle, gentle, sweet, sweet beau.

Counting, Wanting, waiting, watching the sands of time disrobe
The hands sweep round the clocks face fast, but still too slow
The last of this and then of that on this side of the globe
Hand in hand we leave this land, slowly, slowly, sweet, sweet, beau.

Rocking, Rolling, Sometimes Falling,
You don’t fall down, You’ve not yet won
You’ve moved the miles, you’ve come so far
By far the favourite son
I’ll stand by and look real Purty
Here’s to you now you’re thirty
Son of a gun!
Now’s here’s to growing
and to knowing that life is far from done

Little face is full of chatter,
and soon another pitter patter,
back in colder climes,
that ticking clock still chimes,

The world has turned, our world is new,
lots of troubles and bubbles too,
A millionaire of happiness, riches red and gold
Don’t worry handsome man, 35 is not too old
You hold me still and drink me up,
My love an ever flowing cup
I’ll love you till the end of time Happy Birthday my Man of mine

Darkest before the dawn…

Dear readers, I apologise profusely for my absence. I did the unforgivable and went and had another baby :) ha ha ha how very stupid of me. She’s the most beautiful creation since my last beautiful creation and so beautifully behaved. Alas she eats and eats and eats and I have been left with little time to be able to grasp at any thought let alone write a blog post.

My little angels have been taking up most of my sleep time and the upshot of that is that my sanity has been hanging in the balance, there’s a certain time of day, as the sun wanes where shadows seem to take on a life of their own, this is a scary time for me . I think the immovable  moves, I think I see motion  in corners and in reflections and sometimes I’m even scared to look out the window just in case I see someone in my garden who shouldn’t be there.  The door buzzes, my phone beeps the floor boards moan and I jump.

Suddenly my eczema is playing up and the nervous twitch I get in my left eye,  the little sleep that I have is full of dreams of people doing awful things to themselves, cutting themselves up with garden tools and babies lying unconscious in water .

One night I was nursing my daughter and I felt a cold breath on me, breathe in and breathe out, slow and steady. To know that your sanity is slowly ebbing away is a very scary thing  and I was scared to high heaven that it might go completely and what then? What if it never came back?

Thankfully my littlest, after five months of demanding my company and milk two or three times a night has decided that she would rather have sleep. I awoke the first time with full slightly sore boobs but for the first time in a long time I didn’t wake up with the feeling that I was about to lose touch with reality.

I have beautiful, intelligent, children,  I’m a lucky woman, I can appreciate that more now.


Russian Roulette Song by Rhianna

Take a breath, take it deep

“Calm yourself,” he says to me

If you play, you play for keeps

Take the gun, and count to three

I’m sweating now, moving slow

No time to think, my turn to go
And you can see my heart beating

You can see it through my chest

Said I’m terrified, but I’m not leaving

I know that I must pass this test

So just pull the trigger
Say a prayer to yourself He says,

“Close your eyes, sometimes it helps”

And then I get a scary thought

That he’s here means he’s never lost
And you can see my heart beating

Oh, you can see it through my chest

Said I’m terrified, but I’m not leaving

Know that I must pass this test

So just pull the trigger
As my life flashes before my eyes

I’m wondering will I ever see another sunrise?

So many won’t get the chance to say goodbye

But it’s too late to think of the value of my life
And you can see my heart beating

Oh, you can see it through my chest

Said I’m terrified,

but I’m not leaving, no

Know that I must pass this test
You can see my heart beating

Oh, you can see it through my chest

I’m terrified, but I’m not leaving, no

Know that I must pass this test

So just pull the trigger