I can't believe it's almost been a whole entire year since I last saw T. That this time last year we were just going about our lives as normal, completely unaware of what was about to unfold. I wish that I'd answered my phone when it rang while I was at work on 30th July - that I'd taken the call from T and had been able to tell him one last time that I loved him. I wish that he had answered his phone when I tried calling him that morning. I wish that T had broken every bone in his body that day and was now making a good recovery. I wish that I was the mother of T's children. I wish that T was here to watch out for me, to love me and hold me and be with me forever more. I miss the foot massages he gave me while we watched a dvd. I miss the meals we used to cook for each other - a course each (and it had to be a surprise and a dish we'd never made before). I miss the random bunches of flowers he'd buy me on his way home from work. I miss his nagging - about anything and everything. I miss our chats and our planning and our social life. I miss his motivation and his enthusiasm. I miss his love for me and I miss loving him back. I miss getting uncontrollable giggles when we were trying to get to sleep. I miss his music and I miss his motorbike. I even miss his moans about work and his CISCO revision. What I miss most of all I just can't put into words. I just miss T and all that that entails.
I'm going to France tomorrow to lie low for a few days. I'll be well looked after by one of our very good friends and on Friday, weather permitting, I'm hoping to send at least one sky lantern into the night sky in memory of my T. I know that sky lanterns will also be released from a beach in Northumberland and a hillside in Hertfordshire. Small but significant gestures of remembrance.
As well as remembering T, I'll also be remembering the people who battled to save T's life almost a year ago. The paramedics who attended the crash scene within minutes and restarted T's heart. The A&E nurses at the hospital, and one in particular who I formed a bond with that evening. The rest of the medical staff at the hospital who took care of T as best they could. T's transplant nurses who worked through the night to ensure T could donate as many of his organs as possible and who have been there for me over the past 12 months. I'll also be remembering the friends and family who supported me at the hospital that night and those who have been there for me this past year. And I'll also be thinking about the transplant recipients who, a year ago, had life-saving operations thanks to T's generosity.
May you rest in peace my beautiful boy. I'll love you forever more.
Thursday, 29 July 2010
Wednesday, 21 July 2010
The awakening
I just came across this and on first read felt like it kind of summed up what's gradually happened to me over the past 12 months, so thought I'd share it with anyone who's still reading...
A time comes in your life when you finally get it...when, in the midst of all your fears and insanity, you stop dead in your tracks and somewhere the voice inside your head cries out...ENOUGH! Enough fighting and crying and blaming and struggling to hold on.
Then, like a child quieting down after a tantrum, you blink back your tears and begin to look at the world through new eyes.
This is your awakening.
You realize it's time to stop hoping and waiting for something to change, or for happiness, safety and security to magically appear over the next horizon. You realize that in the real world there aren't always fairytale endings, and that any guarantee of "happily ever after" must begin with you... and in the process a sense of serenity is born of acceptance.
You awaken to the fact that you are not perfect and that not everyone will always love, appreciate or approve of who or what you are... and that's OK. They are entitled to their own views and opinions.
You learn the importance of loving and championing yourself... and in the process a sense of new found confidence is born of self-approval. You stop complaining and blaming other people for the things they did to you - or didn't do for you - and you learn that the only thing you can really count on is the unexpected.
You learn that people don't always say what they mean or mean what they say and that not everyone will always be there for you and that everything isn't always about you.
So, you learn to stand on your own and to take care of yourself... and in the process a sense of safety and security is born of self-reliance.
You stop judging and pointing fingers and you begin to accept people as they are and to overlook their shortcomings and human frailties... and in the process a sense of peace and contentment is born of forgiveness.
You learn to open up to new worlds and different points of view. You begin reassessing and redefining who you are and what you really stand for.
You learn the difference between wanting and needing and you begin to discard the doctrines and values you've outgrown, or should never have bought into to begin with.
You learn that there is power and glory in creating and contributing and you stop maneuvering through life merely as a "consumer" looking for your next fix.
You learn that principles such as honesty and integrity are not the outdated ideals of a bygone era, but the mortar that holds together the foundation upon which you must build a life.
You learn that you don't know everything, it's not your job to save the world and that you can't teach a pig to sing. You learn that the only cross to bear is the one you choose to carry and that martyrs get burned at the stake.
Then you learn about love. You learn to look at relationships as they really are and not as you would have them be. You learn that alone does not mean lonely.
You stop trying to control people, situations and outcomes. You learn to distinguish between guilt and responsibility and the importance of setting boundaries and learning to say NO.
You also stop working so hard at putting your feelings aside, smoothing things over and ignoring your needs.
You learn that your body really is your temple. You begin to care for it and treat it with respect. You begin to eat a balanced diet, drink more water, and take more time to exercise.
You learn that being tired fuels doubt, fear, and uncertainty and so you take more time to rest. And, just as food fuels the body, laughter fuels our soul. So you take more time to laugh and to play.
You learn that, for the most part, you get in life what you believe you deserve, and that much of life truly is a self-fulfilling prophecy.
You learn that anything worth achieving is worth working for and that wishing for something to happen is different than working toward making it happen.
More importantly, you learn that in order to achieve success you need direction, discipline and perseverance. You also learn that no one can do it all alone, and that it's OK to risk asking for help.
You learn the only thing you must truly fear is fear itself. You learn to step right into and through your fears because you know that whatever happens you can handle it and to give in to fear is to give away the right to live life on your own terms.
You learn to fight for your life and not to squander it living under a cloud of impending doom.
You learn that life isn't always fair, you don't always get what you think you deserve and that sometimes bad things happen to unsuspecting, good people... and you learn not to always take it personally.
You learn that nobody's punishing you and everything isn't always somebody's fault. It's just life happening. You learn to admit when you are wrong and to build bridges instead of walls.
You learn that negative feelings such as anger, envy and resentment must be understood and redirected or they will suffocate the life out of you and poison the universe that surrounds you.
You learn to be thankful and to take comfort in many of the simple things we take for granted, things that millions of people upon the earth can only dream about: a full refrigerator, clean running water, a soft warm bed, a long hot shower.
Then, you begin to take responsibility for yourself by yourself and you make yourself a promise to never betray yourself and to never, ever settle for less than your heart's desire.
You make it a point to keep smiling, to keep trusting, and to stay open to every wonderful possibility.
You hang a wind chime outside your window so you can listen to the wind.
Finally, with courage in your heart, you take a stand, you take a deep breath, and you begin to design the life you want to live as best you can.
A time comes in your life when you finally get it...when, in the midst of all your fears and insanity, you stop dead in your tracks and somewhere the voice inside your head cries out...ENOUGH! Enough fighting and crying and blaming and struggling to hold on.
Then, like a child quieting down after a tantrum, you blink back your tears and begin to look at the world through new eyes.
This is your awakening.
You realize it's time to stop hoping and waiting for something to change, or for happiness, safety and security to magically appear over the next horizon. You realize that in the real world there aren't always fairytale endings, and that any guarantee of "happily ever after" must begin with you... and in the process a sense of serenity is born of acceptance.
You awaken to the fact that you are not perfect and that not everyone will always love, appreciate or approve of who or what you are... and that's OK. They are entitled to their own views and opinions.
You learn the importance of loving and championing yourself... and in the process a sense of new found confidence is born of self-approval. You stop complaining and blaming other people for the things they did to you - or didn't do for you - and you learn that the only thing you can really count on is the unexpected.
You learn that people don't always say what they mean or mean what they say and that not everyone will always be there for you and that everything isn't always about you.
So, you learn to stand on your own and to take care of yourself... and in the process a sense of safety and security is born of self-reliance.
You stop judging and pointing fingers and you begin to accept people as they are and to overlook their shortcomings and human frailties... and in the process a sense of peace and contentment is born of forgiveness.
You learn to open up to new worlds and different points of view. You begin reassessing and redefining who you are and what you really stand for.
You learn the difference between wanting and needing and you begin to discard the doctrines and values you've outgrown, or should never have bought into to begin with.
You learn that there is power and glory in creating and contributing and you stop maneuvering through life merely as a "consumer" looking for your next fix.
You learn that principles such as honesty and integrity are not the outdated ideals of a bygone era, but the mortar that holds together the foundation upon which you must build a life.
You learn that you don't know everything, it's not your job to save the world and that you can't teach a pig to sing. You learn that the only cross to bear is the one you choose to carry and that martyrs get burned at the stake.
Then you learn about love. You learn to look at relationships as they really are and not as you would have them be. You learn that alone does not mean lonely.
You stop trying to control people, situations and outcomes. You learn to distinguish between guilt and responsibility and the importance of setting boundaries and learning to say NO.
You also stop working so hard at putting your feelings aside, smoothing things over and ignoring your needs.
You learn that your body really is your temple. You begin to care for it and treat it with respect. You begin to eat a balanced diet, drink more water, and take more time to exercise.
You learn that being tired fuels doubt, fear, and uncertainty and so you take more time to rest. And, just as food fuels the body, laughter fuels our soul. So you take more time to laugh and to play.
You learn that, for the most part, you get in life what you believe you deserve, and that much of life truly is a self-fulfilling prophecy.
You learn that anything worth achieving is worth working for and that wishing for something to happen is different than working toward making it happen.
More importantly, you learn that in order to achieve success you need direction, discipline and perseverance. You also learn that no one can do it all alone, and that it's OK to risk asking for help.
You learn the only thing you must truly fear is fear itself. You learn to step right into and through your fears because you know that whatever happens you can handle it and to give in to fear is to give away the right to live life on your own terms.
You learn to fight for your life and not to squander it living under a cloud of impending doom.
You learn that life isn't always fair, you don't always get what you think you deserve and that sometimes bad things happen to unsuspecting, good people... and you learn not to always take it personally.
You learn that nobody's punishing you and everything isn't always somebody's fault. It's just life happening. You learn to admit when you are wrong and to build bridges instead of walls.
You learn that negative feelings such as anger, envy and resentment must be understood and redirected or they will suffocate the life out of you and poison the universe that surrounds you.
You learn to be thankful and to take comfort in many of the simple things we take for granted, things that millions of people upon the earth can only dream about: a full refrigerator, clean running water, a soft warm bed, a long hot shower.
Then, you begin to take responsibility for yourself by yourself and you make yourself a promise to never betray yourself and to never, ever settle for less than your heart's desire.
You make it a point to keep smiling, to keep trusting, and to stay open to every wonderful possibility.
You hang a wind chime outside your window so you can listen to the wind.
Finally, with courage in your heart, you take a stand, you take a deep breath, and you begin to design the life you want to live as best you can.
Wednesday, 14 July 2010
Biting bullets
So, I've applied to VSO. That's Voluntary Service Overseas - they focus on placing professionals with transferrable skills throughout the developing world. Placements usual last for 1-2 years. I've got through the initial registration process and have been invited to attend an Assessment Day, date TBC. It's pretty exciting stuff. Scary too (although as I'm trying to live more for the moment I shouldn't really say that).
Half of me feels really comfortable with the life I've now got. I really love being in my little flat, seeing friends and family, running, reading, watching films etc etc. I'm learning to enjoy my own company. Something I've never had to do before. The other half is anxious to escape that life - to do something meaningful, worthwhile, different, exciting. Away from mortgages and babies and things that no longer mean what they once meant to me, or at least that I hoped would one day soon mean something to me. That's not to say I wouldn't miss friends, family and babies - I would, terribly - but I feel I no longer fit in to that part of life. I can't empathise, have no baby stories or hand-me-downs to share, don't know what it feels like to be pregnant, or a mum and don't even have a date to accompany me to social events. Right now, I can't see when that will change. It may, one day, but not right now. Which kind of leads me to believe that I need to forge a new life for myself. One where I do fit in. And where I'm able to just be me.
I've gone from being one of two people to being just one. That means I can pretty much do what I want, when I want. Again, that's got its pros and its cons, but I really believe it's a unique opportunity that shouldn't be passed up. I've developed a real lust for life since T died. I want to try new things, push myself out of my comfort zone in order to learn and develop and enjoy life, and really make the most of the relatively short time I've got on this planet. I want to be able to look back on my life and be proud of and happy with what I've achieved. I don't want there to be any regrets or what ifs. I don't know that I can say that for each and every one of the past 33 years, but I've got the ability to change that for the years ahead.
I think if I took the easy option of staying here and plodding along in mainstream life, I may have regrets. I think I would be unfulfilled. I think I would have missed an opportunity. With VSO, I've got the chance to help other people who are less fortunate than I am in many ways, I've got a chance to meet new people and experience a new culture, I've got a chance to have a bit of an adventure while still gaining relevant and valuable work experience and being paid expenses to do so. I know it won't all be plain sailing and that it'll be completely different to the trip I made earlier this year when I was surrounded by friends. I'll have to adjust to being completely alone in a new and developing country. I'll have to make new friends. I'll have to get used to a new culture, customs and probably diet. I'll be a long way from home (read: family, friends, familiar surroundings). But if they're the worst things I have to deal with then I think I'll be OK. I keep reminding myself that I've been through the unthinkable and have come out the other side - a bit battle-scarred and war-weary, but I've made it out alive. Compared to that, VSO will be a walk in the park. Something to be embraced and enjoyed. Another new challenge. Just need to get through Assessment Day first...
Half of me feels really comfortable with the life I've now got. I really love being in my little flat, seeing friends and family, running, reading, watching films etc etc. I'm learning to enjoy my own company. Something I've never had to do before. The other half is anxious to escape that life - to do something meaningful, worthwhile, different, exciting. Away from mortgages and babies and things that no longer mean what they once meant to me, or at least that I hoped would one day soon mean something to me. That's not to say I wouldn't miss friends, family and babies - I would, terribly - but I feel I no longer fit in to that part of life. I can't empathise, have no baby stories or hand-me-downs to share, don't know what it feels like to be pregnant, or a mum and don't even have a date to accompany me to social events. Right now, I can't see when that will change. It may, one day, but not right now. Which kind of leads me to believe that I need to forge a new life for myself. One where I do fit in. And where I'm able to just be me.
I've gone from being one of two people to being just one. That means I can pretty much do what I want, when I want. Again, that's got its pros and its cons, but I really believe it's a unique opportunity that shouldn't be passed up. I've developed a real lust for life since T died. I want to try new things, push myself out of my comfort zone in order to learn and develop and enjoy life, and really make the most of the relatively short time I've got on this planet. I want to be able to look back on my life and be proud of and happy with what I've achieved. I don't want there to be any regrets or what ifs. I don't know that I can say that for each and every one of the past 33 years, but I've got the ability to change that for the years ahead.
I think if I took the easy option of staying here and plodding along in mainstream life, I may have regrets. I think I would be unfulfilled. I think I would have missed an opportunity. With VSO, I've got the chance to help other people who are less fortunate than I am in many ways, I've got a chance to meet new people and experience a new culture, I've got a chance to have a bit of an adventure while still gaining relevant and valuable work experience and being paid expenses to do so. I know it won't all be plain sailing and that it'll be completely different to the trip I made earlier this year when I was surrounded by friends. I'll have to adjust to being completely alone in a new and developing country. I'll have to make new friends. I'll have to get used to a new culture, customs and probably diet. I'll be a long way from home (read: family, friends, familiar surroundings). But if they're the worst things I have to deal with then I think I'll be OK. I keep reminding myself that I've been through the unthinkable and have come out the other side - a bit battle-scarred and war-weary, but I've made it out alive. Compared to that, VSO will be a walk in the park. Something to be embraced and enjoyed. Another new challenge. Just need to get through Assessment Day first...
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