Dear Grandma

I miss you already. 

I am glad I got to say goodbye to you; you smiled at me through tired eyes which still sparkled as brightly as always.  I said I would see you tomorrow and I kissed you on the head and as you smiled back I knew you wanted to say that you wouldn't.  I did see you again Grandma.  I hope you heard me by your bedside comforting Grandad as we watched you sleep and slip away from us.  This all happened far too fast and none of us were ready for you to leave so soon. 

I have never wanted to imagine how this would feel.  It hurts.  It hurts to wake up and realise that I won't see you anymore.  It hurts to see Grandad so sad and lost without you.  It hurts to see Mum so heartbroken.  I will try my best to look after them for you.  Your house feels different and the world does not seem the same, but it will go on. 

Thank you for being such a lovely, gentle, kindhearted woman; always laughing.  You were still telling Grandad off for getting your age wrong right til your last day.  I hope you are at peace.  You did not deserve this.  

We miss you.

Grandma. Passed away 18th October 2015. 

Tying Knots.

After a lovely holiday in Devon with the family with sea breezes, sunshine and lots of puppy time with my furry nephew Milo, our smiles were turned upside down by the news that my Grandma has been diagnosed with stomach cancer.

I went to see her in hospital on Sunday and she was still smiling and laughing but it was just heart-breaking to hear her say she had "too much to see before she goes".  I've been thinking.  It's made me so aware of everything she is going to miss.  She said she wanted to see people get married- yet I fear she may miss my little sister getting married in the next year or two.  It breaks my heart.

I've cried.  I know how lucky I am to have four Grandparents still at the age of 32 but I am not used to having to deal with death as a result of that.  I have been dreading this... and now it is before me... somewhere in the near future I will be losing my Grandma.  I also hate seeing my Mum so upset.  She has fought cancer, along with her sister.  It robbed her of her time, energy and femininity five years ago and now yet again, she is faced with it taking away her mother.  And as if that isn't cruel enough, if my Grandma lives past Christmas, she could pass away the same year that my Mother get's the all clear.  Fucking cruel.

I've been angry.  I deal with such evil and awful people day in and day out in my job, and yet this sweet, kind, quiet old lady gets this awful disease.  It infuriates me.  It's just not fair. 

I know I have to be strong and face this, but it is hard.

I'm trying to support a friend in need at the moment and also trying to keep in contact with M while he is offshore for his next tour of duty.  I miss him far more than I thought... but have managed to talk to him daily which helps.  He has also sent me an amazing wood print of Birth Machine by HR Giger as a lasting memory of our first holiday together.  It's the most amazing thing and it's made me more sure that I have to make this person happy and keep them close. 

I know I can look at this situation two ways.  My first thought was that just when I thought everything was falling into place and I find someone I love, this awful thing has happened and I am faced with losing someone I love.  I am trying to think of this on it's head and say that I have found someone at a time when I will need them most. 

Chin up. Keep smiling.

Wide Eyed.

Well there's a week I am glad to see the back of.  It was the David Cameron of weeks.

I could say that it was a week of losses.  But I'm not going to. 

A "close friend" who I have known since Uni has cut me out their lives for reasons I will go into in another post when I can be arsed to process it all.

Another idiot revealed their true selves also.  I welcome the clarity that these two very different situations have provided. As of last year, I declared not to give two fucks about anyone who doesn't do the same for me. And that's going to be the attitude I stick with throughout 2014. So for anyone else who wants to exit my life, I'll be holding the door wide open for you ready to close and lock it on your way out. I'm not even angry... I no longer have anything but apathy for people who leave and a grateful respect for the few honest, genuine friends who remain of greatest importance in my life.

The only true, real loss from this week has been the death of my Grandad's sister, my Auntie Thelma.  Naturally I'm most worried about the effect this might have on my Grandad, as the last remaining one of his family. It must be hard and with him being a big part of my life from a very young age, I can't imagine him any other way than happy. I will be going with him to the funeral on Friday.

Since last Monday, when all the shit kicked off with friend Z I haven't slept properly.  I think I've probably had a total of about five hours sleep over the last seven days.  Any modicum of sleep I have been getting has been full of very odd dreams and then awaking with a terrible headache which feels like someone has taken a lump hammer to my frontal lobe.  The two hours I got last night before I woke up with a start and had an immediate nosebleed was a welcome relief! I've got 6 closely rationed Zopiclone tablets for when I get incredibly desperate. Because of the insomnia, my appetite has gone out of whack, and because of my mucus filled lungs (which are showing no sign of recovery) I haven't been to the gym in over a week either.  Needless to say by Thursday night I was a mess, and winded up booking an emergency flexi day to recover and kick-start my week off work. 

I'm hoping the impending week off will replenish my depleted, weary mind and body as I feed it with good company, cinema, vitamins, gym and sculpture projects. I have lots planned, I just need to feed my body and soul with sleep, food and good music so I have the energy to do it all. 

The coming week will be my week of replenishment.  I can't bloody wait.

Goodbyes.

I got back from Kirsten's funeral a few hours ago. 

It was what she would have wanted- short but sweet, with an elegant simplicity.  Everyone wore something pink - a tribute to her fight with breast cancer. 

Walking into the crematorium behind her family and friends, her tiny coffin covered with beautiful flowers and the Goo Goo Dolls' song Iris playing was heartbreaking; so many people shedding tears at their individual losses.  Yet the messages throughout the service were clear- smile.  Always keep smiling.  As Kirsten did throughout her illness.  Her final song, as we exited the room, was Cyndi Lauper's Girls Just Wanna Have Fun.  I could just picture her dancing away to it.

Her wake was decorated so beautifully with fairy lights, tables covered with objects associated with Kirsten (Some My Little Ponys and Barbies amongst them!), photographs and little reminders of this lovely lady.  It was nice to see her remembered so fondly, everyone sharing their stories and memories over drinks.  It must have been both heartbreaking and comforting for her family to know just how many will miss her smile. 

RIP Kirsten.

:-)

About a Girl.

When N and I moved in to our house years ago, our new neighbours (Kirsten, Nathan and their beagle Holly!) left us a bottle of wine and a card welcoming us to the street.  It made us feel instantly at home and when we went round to thank you, we could tell this was a couple we were going to get along with.  We met them for drinks a few times and got to know them via a few parties and pub trips in the local area, sharing stories, interests and most importantly laughs.

Kirsten was diagnosed with an aggressive breast cancer a few years ago.  Her intensive chemotherapy treatments never dulled her zest for life and I really admired her courage through a hardship that I'd been spared seeing my own Mother go through when she underwent a successful attempt at removing her own breast cancer.  I attended Kirsten's 35th birthday party two years ago, despite no longer living in the area.  It was a celebration of her getting through another bout of chemo and she was happy, beautiful and her usual wise, energetic and happy self. 

On Wednesday night, I got a phonecall from N who informed me that Kirsten had passed away last Friday.  It was a shock. Although I hadn't seen her for a while, I'd read her posts on facebook of her undergoing more chemo in a last ditch attempt to rid her body of the returned cancer.  It dawned on me that although her prognosis had never been good due to its aggressive nature and the fact it had returned, her strength had amazed me so much that it never occurred, naively, that she would lose this fight so suddenly.  She died in her home, peacefully, with NT by her side.

I've been very lucky in my life, not to have had to deal with much death.  I still have all four grandparents, and although various elderly relatives have passed away they've been distanced enough for me to not feel a vast amount of grief. 

Last night I sat reading the memorial web page Kirsten's friends and family have made for her.  It was so upsetting to read all the memories, each one filled with heartache from people who were missing Kirsten in one way or another, suddenly finding a Kirsten shaped gap in their lives.
It's all so surreal and desperately sad.  Her facebook page is still there;  Her car is on her driveway, where she stood laughing, telling us about the latest little bump she'd managed to get in her company car.  Yet, she's not here anymore.  This lovely, caring, incredibly strong and genuine human being no longer laughs, smiles, breathes.  So young, yet bringing such happiness to the lives of the people she encountered.  It's hard to get my head around.  My grief is miniscule compared to her closer friends and of course her family, and I dread to think how consuming grief will be for me when it is a member of my own family whose death I have to accept, but still- I've cried and I feel better for it. 

I will be attending her funeral on Monday.  I'll admit, this will be my first funeral for someone I considered a friend, despite us not being close, and also for someone so young.  Every other funeral I've been to has been for an elderly person, where there is something inevitable and quietly natural about it.  This time, the unfairness of it will make it all the more sad.  She fought this absolutely awful disease so hard, at such a young age and yet it claimed her.  The only relief is that she won't have to endure that any longer. 

I'm not at all looking forward to Monday, however, I feel I owe it to her memory to be there.  I wasn't as there for her as I could have been.  It's a chance to say goodbye to her. 

I do remember her saying to me, giving me some direct, honest advice before I left N- "life is short, far too short to waste being unhappy".  All the more poignant now she's gone. 

Thin Mint Ice.

In 2005, this happened...

... this Ice Cream was monumental. 

It was THE best Ice Cream I had ever EVER tasted.  I loved it.  I bought it weekly as my Saturday treat.  It was my paradigm shift in the world of Ice Cream, changing my conceptions of cream based, icy food forever.

No less than a few months after Minter Wonderland shone light upon my tastebuds... Ben & Jerrys condemned it to  the Ice Cream graveyard and stopped selling it.  For a few months I checked supermarkets in the vain hope of finding a stray tub- to no avail.  I was never to see or taste this Ice Cream again. 

It took me many years to get over this- in fact I'm not sure I have forgiven Ben & Jerrys yet for their cruelty.  No Mint Ice cream was ever going to compare...

and then, a few weeks ago, by sheer chance, this happened...

... Oh. My God.  Mint Leaves and Chocolate.  The years of Ben & Jerry's heartbreak ended as I slipped that smooth cold spoon of icy, minty goodness into my mouth.  That Ice Cream and my tongue were meant to be together, united, in perfect harmony.  I never thought anything would taste as good as Minter Wonderland... but this, completely surpassed my expectations.  Years of empty, flavourless, dull, boring utterly CRAP mint choc chip Ice Cream melted away and my life felt complete once again.

I consumed two tubs... and then the fear of this amazing happiness-in-a-tub being taken away from me took over.  The next couple of days I visited Sainsbugs AND Tesco and noted they didn't appear to have any of my Ice Cream left- this could be both good and bad.  Maybe stocks are just low because it's new...  "Don't panic" I thought, lets check online.  To my horror, my ice cream was now only being stocked in Waitrose and Ocado.  That's okay... we are fortunate to live near two Waitrose supermarkets.  The larger of these stores, had just three tubs in stock.  I bought all three.  They are safe in my freezer.

However, my love affair is, I fear, to be short lived.  I stopped by a smaller Waitrose this afternoon on my way home from work in the hope of stocking up on a few more tubs.  I scoured the shelves of the Ice Cream freezers- There were none.  There wasn't even a label for them.  That familiar feeling returns... my ice cream is slowly but surely slipping out of my grasp once again. 

There are still supplies... online mainly.  I'm considering whether my addiction is worthy of ordering a few more tubs- potentially having to pay for delivery.  Just how far will I go to get this Ice Cream?  Is there such a thing as black market ice cream dealer where I can fuel my habit? Perhaps the local Mr Whippy van could strike up some sort of deal... Yes, desperate times.

I still have my three tubs...these will now be subject to STRICT rations.  It's going to be a sad, emotionally tough day when I spoon out the last scoop from my last tub.

So fleeting... so passionate... and then it's over... so suddenly. 

The world of Ice Cream is a cruel, cruel place.   

Crashland. Radioactive.

One of the most beautiful and apt songs from last year.  This will always be my 2012 song.

 

And... this one... this is my 2013 song.  "I'm waking up, I feel it in my bones" ...

Reflections on 2012 pt 6: Oscar

In August, our cat Oscar died.  He was a good old age but his death was still a bit of a shock.  He had a rapidly deteriorating heart condition and had to be put down.  I held him as he was put to sleep.

The house still feels odd without him and I know our remaining cat Phoebe misses him daily.  She hasn't really been the same since.

Miss you.

Oscar.

A few weeks ago, our family cat Oscar died. 

Although he'd reached an age of about 13-16 years old (being a rescue cat we were always uncertain of his exact age), he seemed young at heart and in spirit.  Within the space of a short week his health deteriorated and my sister, V and I had to take the decision to have him put to sleep.  He was in pain and had been struggling to breathe properly for a few days and the two of us took the vets advice and had him put down.  We travelled to the vets and I held him and said my goodbyes whie the vet delivered his injenction. 

I still miss him.  The house feels incomplete, and our remaining cat Pheobe is still a very much lost without him.  She's become very needy and clingy since Oscar died, which could be a sign of stress or maybe even grief. 

V and I have decided to purchase a small engraved stone for the back garden.  Oscar loved sitting in the shade on a nice sunny day. 

 

 

 

We miss you.

xx