Samhain Blessings

Every year on this blog, I celebrate the Pagan festival of Samhain by noting the names of those who have gone on.

This year, my father passed away, so it is a particularly poignant day for me. Please join me by writing the name of those you love who are no longer here.

I have been a witness to the deaths of three of my parents. Death itself holds no fear for me. Dying is the hard part. For everyone involved. It's hard to say the final goodbye, to know that I'll never be able to pick up the phone and talk to them, never be able to have a cuddle, or share a joke with them ever again. Living remains the far greater challenge.

Whatever your spiritual flavour, or even if you have none. Leave their names and if you wish, their relationship to you. Today, is about remembering. The dead will never be forgotten as long as the living still speak their names.

I dedicate this post to Henry.

I miss you every day, Henry. I wish more than anything else that we had more time.

Update: I'm going to have an early night. Please feel free to write your names tonight, and in the coming week. I'll put the word verification back on next weekend.

Hi Hoooooo!

I have a well earned reputation for being a Lazy Shite. Given any opportunity I will assume The Position on my sofa, which is very, very comfy. I don't like mornings and will happily potter around smoking and drinking my coffee until...well...the afternoon. My Get Up and Go, got up and left years ago, slammed the door on it's way out and hasn't been seen since. Not even a postcard.

This reputation has been shaken and stirred Ladies and Gentlemen. I am once again gainfully employed with The Alternative Healthcare Practice. I have a long history with them. When I was doing my Creative Writing qualifications that led to my degree, I would be their emergency receptionist. When I wasn't working for them I was sampling the many treats of accupuncture, osteopathy and hypnotherapy. Earlier this year, I thought some accupuncture would be good for me. And it was. After a treatment, I casually dropped into the conversation that I would be available again for any work they could throw my way. The few days work then turned into a 2 day a week job. Before I had the chance to get to comfortable, I got the phone call from my brother, saying it looked like my father had lung cancer.

I went to my employer, explained the situation and then said I was going to Trinidad for 2 months. Any other sane employer would have thanked me for my time and bid me farewell. He did not. He sent me off with his blessing and said the job would be waiting for me when I got back. I did say to him if he got someone he liked, to hang on to them. It's a small business and they can't afford not to have a key member of staff. I understand the pressures that running a small business brings.

As soon as I was coherent the day after I landed, I rang to say I was back. Did they still want me? Would they mind if I had a week to get my shit together before I started (if they still wanted me back)? Yes, they wanted me back and of course I could have a week before I started. Not only that, but if I needed to take more time, I could have it. I was both suprised and pleased.

The Monday after my return, I went along to have a financial review with my financial advisor. In the course of our meeting, after he finished telling me off for going through my cash reserves like a wolf in a sheep's pen, he offered me a job. Temporary, for the other days of the week I'm not working. The temporary part is a convenience on both sides. We need to see if we like each other and to see if it's going to work.

So much for continuing my life as a bum.

Since I've come back from Trinidad, I've gradually been getting the house and garden sorted. Jobs which were piling up have now been dealt with. I've not been terribly energetic about it, less blazing and more of a gentle pottering, with Couch Time being factored in.

I still have no idea what I want to do when I grow up. For the moment, that's okay. I'm not in a position to make any long term decisions right now. One way or another, this year has been hard work. I've been battered and blown about. That's okay too. I've learnt a lot and I hope with the learning I am a wiser and stronger woman for it. Time will tell. Everything is as it should be.

Normal Service

I think it's time I take some time out from this blog. Things are tough and I think the hard times have overtaken the good.

Please don't desert me completely. I will be back, posting on here soon. I will try and pop in to see what you're all getting up to.

In the meantime, do something mushy for me: find the person you really love and give them a mahusive hug. If I've learnt anything recently, it's that Now is all the time we have; and never, ever pass up the opportunity to let the person who's really important to you, know how much you care. To the people who love you, be gentle with them, it's a precious gift; you lucky buggers you.

Condolences

My heart goes out to Ms Boxer, who has said goodbye to her dad after a period of illness.

In many ways, I am walking the path she has trod so bravely and with good humour despite everything.

Please call in and leave her hugs, today and in the coming days. In my experience, the first few days of bereavement are always a bit weird, after the weird period things can get hard. So, keep popping by.

Blessings on the Feast of Samhain

The Wheel of the Year turns again. The Feast of Samhain mourns the losses of the past year and celebrates the coming new year.

This is the time of year to honour those who have gone before. To remember our loved ones and honour our ancestors. To let go the hardships and heartaches of the past year, to take the lessons learnt into the Winter.

I do this every year and I would be honoured if you would join me, by writing the names of those you hold dear, who have died. Please write their names and their relationship to you, if you wish. Or remain anonymous. It doesn't matter what spiritual path you walk upon. The dead are never truly lost to us, they live on in our hearts and memories.

Bambi ~ mother of my heart
Dennis ~ father of my heart
Angela ~ my mother in law
Helen ~ beloved grandmother
Herta ~ beloved grandmother
Tricia ~ my friend
Eric ~ mentor

I miss you.

Sad Tidings

Fare thee well, Murph. Fond of rabbits, bolting off, Lily and puns. You came, let me join in and hung around for awhile.

I hope your Heaven has a very comfortable basket, slow rabbits and a bone that never ends.

We will miss you, but not half as much as Mrs Rhine and Drew.

Falling off Bikes

My last day has come and gone. I survived the experience. Boy was very disappointed that I remained polite to my customers when I got around to serving them. What can I say? I was busy handing out chocolates and getting hugged. I must admit, I really will miss the ladies of Perfumery, they really are fabulous. I will definitely be calling in and bugging them in the future.

It has been a bittersweet time for me. When I left local government I was determined I was going to write for a living. But the fact of the matter is, while I will continue writing, I'm not likely to become a published author. Publishing is a cut-throat business, of the people who I studied with, who are amazing writers, genuinely talented in an iritatingly laisez-faire way, they can't keep themselves. Realistically, if they can't, will I be able to? No not really. So I stuck it out with retail and as much as I found it fun in places, for the most part it was bloody hard work for bugger-all pay.

So here I am going to be a Sales and Marketing Assistant, being suited and booted once again. I confess to being somewhat nervous. Yes, I do know what I'm letting myself in for, over the past 3 months I've got to know the people there fairly well. It's a small company on the verge of taking off. It faces all the challenges that a company in that position does, resourcing, structuring and processes. But given the potential, and the part that I could play, it could be a big player in a really interesting field.

Tomorrow, I'm going through my wardrobe. The endless black t-shirts, grey t-shirts, exceptionally dull black underwear - they are all going out. I have some good pieces in my wardrobe still, but I'll be making a few trips to M&S and BHS for some office staples. I'm looking for some good shoes. Now I'm not expected to stand 7.5 hours a day, I can indulge in some high heels and fuck-me boots. Oops. Did I write that out loud?

The creative writing student is slowly giving way to Business Woman, and in a way, I feel sad for my loss. I like being a grubby art student, being creative suits me. But being a Business Woman is very satisfying in a completely different way. Being around practical people who turn up on time and do what they say they're going to do, allows for a different type of creativity. My job is going to be providing the Face for the company. I'm the person who'll be making sure that the enquiries become the satisfied customers throughout the process. How cool is that?

It might all go horribly wrong. Indeed it might; for I am such an optimist. But I've ended up here because I followed the Path. While I've made decisions: good, bad and indifferent, they've usually been in response to The Universe's jokes. About two years ago, I decided that I was going to go with the flow. These are the uncharted waters and I must admit, I've little to complain about. My Boy is stunning, he's bigger than me, I still get hugs, he still makes me laugh at the end of a shitty day. My Viking is fabulous, a completely unexpected side-effect from blogging. My life is rich and I have much to be thankful for. It is the end of many things, but I'm ready to welcome the changes.

This is made more poignant because a much-loved Elder of the Norwich Chant Collective died this morning. I wouldn't be going out on a limb if I said that without his knowledge and guidance, the people who I count as family wouldn't have been where they are today. While he did not train me, I knew him and was fond of him. We would catch up at handfastings and baby-namings. He would make a point of having a chat if we met by chance in the City. He will be greatly missed.

Pink Fluffy Dressing Gown

Today is a lazy day. I intended to loads, but I'm still sat in my dressing gown: life is good. I'm obviously not at work, I don't think they'd appreciate the sight of me in my strippy socks. I was very naughty this morning. I went back to bed and didn't crawl out of it until 10.30ish. The shock. It's funny, but as nice as it was to stay longer in my beddies, I don't feel any the better for it. My brain still feels mushy. Having said that, I suspect that comes from running around like a blue-arsed fly for most of the time.

Work has been 'interesting', to say the least. Last month we had a change of management in the department and that's really set the cat amongst the pigeons. You will remember I'm not a huge fan of change. I like things to stay 'nice' preferably. I don't like shake ups, wake ups or break ups. I get stroppy without my anchors, my security blankets. October was a month of change. Hence me being a bit quiet as I sulked, moped and stared into the depths of my navel.

Alix is now safely ensconsed in London. She and Shizzle (her husband) found a fabulous flat exactly where they wanted to be, within their budget - a feat considering London housing. I really miss her. It's a good thing that they've gone. But I wish she was still round the corner. I miss her smile, her brilliant hugs and her sense of humour. We didn't see that much of each other, both being busy at work and college, but I loved that we'd bump into each other and steal half and hour for coffee and naughty cake.

I started working part-time. I'm now on 3 days a week, which has come as a bit of a shock to the system. No more swanning about for me. In a couple of weeks, when the run up to Christmas really kicks off, I'll be doing 4 days and when December hits, I'll be doing 5 days. This working for a living lark is bloody knackering. I don't have time to think, much less do laundry, cook etc. I really need a live-in house keeper, or a wife. Actually, a wife would be great. At least then Boy could come home to someone, a decent meal and reasonable company. But I do the best I can with what I've got and he seems fairly chipper and I do have the world's best babysitter in the form of the XBox.

I've also been thinking about my life ahead and where it will lead. I've come to the conclusion that my days of happy homemaking (yeah right) are slipping further and further off into the distance. Boy will be leaving home in 4 years time as he embarks on his chosen path and that's got to be a good thing, but it does make me sad. I know I've talked about this before, endlessly, but when your life has revolved around another human being for whom you are responsible - it's a bit scary. The thought of always coming home just to the cat on a dark winter night, fills me with dread. I did not enjoy half-term without him, even though I was phenomenally busy with work and college.

But there freedom with that thought. I could do anything I wanted (money permitting). I could move to London, it wouldn't matter if I had to live in a shoe box. I could move back to Trinidad. I could move oop North. The world would become my oyster as long as I could embrace the irritation to create a pearl. I know that's four years' off, but I like to think about my bridges, and a lot might happen between now and then. Life has never quite managed follow through as expected with plans.

It was the fire festival of Samhain on Wednesday, which is a pretty big deal in the pagan calendar. It's the start of our new year. A time of opening your arms to let go the stuff that holds you back, keeps and lets you down. With open arms you can embrace the opportunities and challenges that life sends to you. It's also the last time the Norwich Chant Collective will meet in that form. We've been going now for 9 years and people have moved on, changed, moved away. Time to let it go, see what else comes to take it's place. No longer will I be trouping out Wednesday nights to give voice to chants. *sniff*

So that's why I've been a bit absent. Did you miss me?

Wedding Blitz

I spent the weekend in Cambridge at the Viking's cousin's wedding. To say I was a little bit nervous at meeting the rest of his clan, is like saying the sea is a little bit wet. The Viking and I have been together nearly 9 months which is a bit of a shock, considering it's been pain-free, fun and easy as Sunday morning and this was the first family event I'd been to. His immediate family are lovely and I really like his parents, I got to meet his older brother and fiancee this weekend as well as the whole clan. Boy was safely ensconced with his dad.

In a way, this wedding was a complete contrast to Alix's wedding. It was a civil ceremony, followed by photos on the grounds in the fabulous sunshine, with food served by serious waiting staff. The bride looked fabulous, the groom as if all his Christmases had come at once. The bridesmaids were gorgeous and ranged in age 2 - adult, in dresses that suited their colouring and looked fabulous. Unfortunately, I didn't take an evening outfit with me, so while everyone else got changed into more relaxed, groovy gear, I was still in my dress of the afternoon. But the Viking stayed in his suit to keep me company, only taking his jacket off to boogie with me. Not only that, but he earnt several brownie points for sorting out several clothes-related disasters with safety pins.

This morning we mooched around Cambridge. I'm not sure how good an impression I made on his brother as he caught me singing Dancing in the Streets in the corridors of our digs last night and singing C is for Cookie to the Viking in the middle of the Sunday market this morning.

All in all, it was a lovely weekend. A bit poignant, because next weekend Boy and I fly out to Trinidad again. We go to scatter Pop's ashes and sort out any remaining stuff. It seems really strange to be going out there, knowing this is the first time that my primary parents won't be there waiting for us. Truth be known, I've been trying not to think about it. Funny isn't it? How much ever you try and hide stuff, it always seems to seep out and bite you on the arse. But it's a time for families. And I've missed my brother and his family. It'll be good to see them and catch up on their news.

Fallen Officer PC Jon Henry

If I'm honest, I'm a bit of a police groupie. I'm blessed with good friends who've been in the Service for most of their working lives, and my Viking who has not long started. When I started blogging I tripped over Inspector Gadget's musings and I've been hooked ever since. I have nothing but respect for the people who get up in the morning, leave their families and loved ones, put on their body armour and hit the streets. I couldn't do it. The frustrations of seeing the same people day in day out playing out their own particular soap opera in the System, knowing that those above are busy creating origami and most of the general public don't care.

I haven't blogged about PC Jon Henry before because I haven't found the words until now. To be honest, it's still all tied up in the fear that one day I'll be seeing my Viking's parents sitting next to some bloke in a suit dishing out arse covering phrases and spin-written speeches.

PC Jon Henry died doing a job he loved. He leaves behind a grieving widow and his baby, he leaves behind friends and colleagues who will be looking at his locker, at his coffee cup. For those of us who didn't know him, he is more than a news story.

Denial - not the river in Egypt

As far as I can make out, not much has changed in Norwich, apart from the chippy down the road changing hands. People seem to be the same. Busy, stressed, working, loving, living. Boy is continuing to be 13, the cat is continuing to be odd. But everything has changed.

I don't know how to write about it without being bleak or depressing. This is actually the third time I've written this paragraph. Despite it all, it isn't really about pain. It's about hope. The realisation that this life we've been given is so precious, that every decision about how we spend our time, ought to be weighed more carefully. Whatever your spiritual leanings, you'll never really know what waits on the other side until the very end. Therefore, it makes sense to live this life well and hope for the best. If it is pointless and death is a void into which we fall and are lost to eternity, then at least these moments spent together will not be wasted time.

I really don't believe this is the case. I have attended the deaths of both my mother and my step-father; after their deaths, their bodies were like the clothes I leave on my bedroom floor. I believe there is something more. Knowing that, I still don't want to lose the chance to live well.

I know St Valentines Day is a commercialised event, to up the sales of gooey cards, roses and chocolates. But quite frankly, there is so much pain and suffering in this world that any day dedicated to the people we love has got to be good.

Money no longer is the be all and end all to me. It's now about time. Time is precious. I want to spend it with the people who I care about, and the people who care about me. I want my time to be spent doing fun things, nice things, creative things.

I now want to take the time to tell you how much I appreciate your dropping by. You've been an important part of my life for the last 8 or so months. Thanks. Happy Valentine's Day.

Final Journey

It never ceases to amaze me, the way life can change in a matter of hours. Or rather, the way life can end in a short space of time.

I had made plans to see my birth father, N, on Thursday. We were going to buy some Chinese food and spend the day with his wife who’s recovering from surgery at his home. His boss decided that morning, he needed him for a fairly important meeting. Which left me at a bit of a loose end. Atlas and Sil were at work. So, I invited myself up to Pops so I could use his PC and internet connection.

The day before, he talked about finishing the radiation treatment. The waiting was driving him nuts. Both Atlas and I agreed if those were his wishes, so be it. The consultant convinced him to keep attending as he only had 6 more sessions. The meds were making him feel weak, giving him insomnia.

He had gone for radiation Thursday morning, but for the first time needed a wheelchair. After a month of only sleeping 2-3 hours, he slept the night before, and after breakfast. We were pleased that he was able to sleep, but worried that he wasn’t eating. As a diabetic, it’s really important that he had regular meals.

When I came over that afternoon, I brought him some chocolate cake to tempt him. He was having a snooze, so rather than disturb him, I went online, chatted to various people, thought nothing of it.

I heard a noise at about 4pm. I found him standing up by a light switch. I helped him back to bed, with some help, sponged him down and changed his shirt. Made him comfortable. I then rang Atlas. He rang me back with instructions to feed Pops chocolate and sweetdrinks, he thought he was having a hypo – a drastic drop in his blood sugar. I was trying to get Pops to have some juice when both Sil and Atlas arrived. Sil got him to have some chocolate. Pops was embarrased at the fuss, but smiling at our attempts at humour. He dozed off.

We left to have showers and eat, we returned within an hour and a half. Pops was snoring away. Atlas, unhappy at his still lowered blood sugar, sought medical advice and went off to get the means to do a dextrose drip. Pops was adamant that he did not want to end up in hospital, he did not want medical intervention. Atlas is a vet and is capable of putting in a drip. He intended to call by for a GP on his way back.

I sat with Pops. Tried to get him to drink some honeyed water. He was no longer focussing on me. I opened the window to let some air in. At one point I got up and held his hand. And then, he just stopped breathing. He just slipped away. What journey he has gone onto I don’t know. I don’t believe he went on his own though. I think that must be a post for another day.

We are still in shock. I had been making plans for Boy and I to come out and see him again in Easter and again during the summer hols. The consultant had said 12 months.

I don’t feel acute grief. I just can’t be sorry that he’s gone this way. Pops was adamant that he wanted minimal medical intervention and was not looking forward to final progression of the cancer:, unable to communicate, move about and 24 hour nursing. He was spared the indignity and suffering of that outcome. In fact, he could not have timed it any better really. The cremation is Monday morning, his service is Wednesday. I fly back to England on Thursday evening.

I really miss him.