Friday, 23 October 2009

Memories - Poem

I'd forgotten I'd written this one...
.
A broken glass, a drop of rain,
Forgotten thoughts flood back again,
The glass a heart, the rain a tear,
Such distant thoughts but yet so near.
~~~
The memories of a ticking clock,
Remembering when time just stopped,
The silence from the world around,
No wind, no rain, no earthly sound.
~~~
A pillow wet with constant tears,
Awareness of the new found fears,
A labyrinth is all I hold,
An unknown future, dark and cold.
~~~
The glass is cleared, the sun comes out,
Passing children laugh and shout,
Life continues as before,
My thoughts, just memories - nothing more.

Dear John... 1991 (25)

Here's a copy of one of the letters I wrote to my friend 'A' back in 1991...

17/06/1991

Dear 'A'

You will never know how much I really care about you. The last thing on earth I wanted to do was hurt you, which I know I have - and I really am sorry.

I have decided to stay where I am and try and work things out between us. I know deep down I'm not doing it for the right reasons and at the moment it's not what I really want either.

'H' knows this but says he is prepared to bear with me and keep working at it as well. Maybe, in time, I will learn to love him properly again - I don't know.

As much as I do love you as well and I love being with you, being really honest, I am scared of jumping headlong into another permanent relationship so soon. Also, as selfish as it may sound, I'm not ready to give up my home and move away again. I have got so much going for me at the bungalow - I've got my animals and should start breeding more soon and the pet shop will be my weekend and spare-time employment.

The animal side of things I have dreamt of since I was a kid but could never imagine being able to afford to do it. Now it's here at my disposal. Although the bungalow is only rented at the moment, I do have the option to buy.

What I really want now is to be on my own but 'H' won't go and I can't make him - so I'm back to square one!

If you are honest too, if 'H' did go, would you move in with me? I don't think you would and I wouldn't blame you for it either. If I have assumed right, then maybe you can beginto understand how I feel. With 'H' working at the factory now, it's surprising just how little we see each other. Plus, my working at the weekends at the kennels gives me more time to myself without him - it does make things a lot easier.

As I said earlier, I don't know if we will ever get back to how we were and I don't really know whether I'll ever feel the same about him as I used to but, meanwhile, it's not fair to keep messing you around or to lead you on before I've really got my life sorted out once and for all and my mind straight again.

I am really sorry if my reasoning, where the bungalow and animals are concerned, seems selfish but that is being honest with myself.

I don't want you to wait for me and I certainly wouln't expect you to but, maybe if we ever meet up again as two single people, we could maybe get together again. At least then I would be able to give you 100% back.

On a different note, I have enclosed your key along with a cheque for the concert tickets - I don't want you tobe offended by my returning them (especially the money) but I feel better by doing so.

I hope one day you'll forgive me for taking the 'chicken's route, both in my decision and for writing a 'Dear John' letter to you (not my style). I know I should have told you face to face but I can't bear the thought of seeing you upset.

I love you too much deep down to see you hurt.

I would still love to hear from you if you want to ring at all - but I'll understand if you don't. Thanks again for everything and please believe me when I say I am truly sorry.

I don't think you'll ever know how much I love you and I am really going to miss you.

Take care of yourself please and look after 'Big-Dog' - I'll miss him too.

All my love
'R'
xxx

The Spider in the Tangled Web...

The following is a copy of one of my many letters to 'thin air', I obviously wrote it in 1991 after my husband's suicide attempt and my friendship with 'A'. One of my very low points...

I DON'T KNOW WHAT TO DO!!

'H' has s*** on me so many times that I have switched off from him and can't seem to switch back on. I feel as though I love him more like a brother than a husband. I always feel responsible for him and, unless he's got a red hot poker up his backside constantly, he's got no self-motivation.

He has always got to be pointed in the right direction and then led. He can't seem to organise himself in any way shape or form. If I leave him alone to get on with things, in the hope that he will take control, it doesn't work. Everything gets left until eventually I can't stick it any more.

That goes for evething from housework, cooking, washing, tidying up, paying the bills through to finding himself a job.

We've been together for eight years now...

...at my 18th party he broke up with me, walked out with his best mate's girlfriend and took her home to his mother's for the weekend. When we got back together, I found this hadn't been the first time.

...when I was 19, we were living together, I returned home from a two week dog grooming course in Windsor and found a pile of letters in the glove compartment of his car. They were from a girl in Swansea that he'd allegedly met during a night out while I was away. She was a single mum and her letters spoke of how much she and her children were looking forward to seeing him again and having him stay with them.

...at 20, shortly after we were married he had a 'quickie' with a friend of ours who had an 'open-marriage'.

...Christmas/New Year 1987, I was 21, he went out one night and just didn't come home again until the early hours of the following morning. He'd met a girl he fancied through work and that was it - marriage over!! However, as she didn't want to get serious with him, we got back together again.

...January 1990 he went on a two week residential course (90-10 male to female ratio) and made 'friends' with one of the girls, keeping in touch with her after the course was over. He travelled a number of miles to see her a few times, including once taking her out for lunch when we were really broke. Another time he came home very disappointed having found out that another bloke from the course had moved in as her lodger. She phoned him a few times at home but never acknowledged me - apparently, she needed someone to talk to because her father was ill!

...August 1990 we had really hit upon hard times and in the November, we gave up our house, handing the keys back to the mortgage company before we were faced with repossession.

It was agreed that 'H' would give it until the beginning of the New Year and if his job still wasn't working out, he would find additional or alternative employment.

However, come January 1991, he just refused to even talk about it. I asked, told, begged, nagged, shouted, talked and even pleaded with him to try and at least acknowledge some of the problems we had.

Every penny I earned went of every possible bill you could think of but mu wages alone weren't enough to meet all our debts. I started working weekends and evenings baby-sitting, dog grooming, helping at the kennels and bar work, just to try and make ends meet.

'H' did write off for a few jobs but flatly refused to take 'just anything'. He wouldn't do anything in the house either. I was coming home from work to a sink load of dishes and 'H' in front of the television. If I broached the subject he would just flare up, walk out or go to bed. He just wouldn't acknowledge that there was a problem at all.

By April of 1991 I'd really had enough. No money from 'H' at all and no effort. I called it a day and he went back to his mother's for a couple of days. I really needed someone to talk to and it was from hereon that I became really close friends with 'A' . He was the perfect mate and both 'H' and I had known him for about eight years. 'A' already knew about 'H's various flings from back when they had worked together.

'H' came back from his mum's promising the earth but, after a couple of days, everything carried on just as before.

Following yet another argument, I decided to go out and subsequently stayed out all night (I went to 'A's). The following day 'H' and I had a long talk and this time we seemed to be on the same wave-length. He promised that we would work together, he'd be honest with me and there would be no more 'flings'.

That same night a female friend called round while I was out. I had my suspicions when I got home and confronted him, he swore on his father's life that nothing had happened but later admitted it and apologised.

The following day I told him to pack his stuff and go - so he went! When I got to work he was there waiting for me. We talked for a few minutes and then he left - that was it - but when I got home that night, he was waiting for me there. He said he wanted to talk things through and get things sorted between us once and for-all. I stood my ground and he eventually left.

The following morning, when I let the dogs out, I found his car parked at the bottom of the drive, with him asleep in it. I told him he could come in for a drink and use the bathroom but when I got home from work that night, he was still there and said he wasn't leaving until he had somewhere to go. In his words he told me: "I've got no money, no petrol and nowhere to stay - and I'm not going back to my mother's!"

I had borrowed money earlier for him to get petrol but he'd used it up just driving around. (I did find out later that he'd gone round to a friend of mine, who had her own house, to see if she would put him up for a while. Apparently, she refused point blank and wouldn't get involved. When I confronted him with it a few days later, he denied it at first but later said that he'd forgotten about it, didn't think it was important and didn't think it would bother me!)

At that point I told him either he goes, or I do - so I went! I went round to see 'A', had a few drinks with him and sat talking. I finally decided to go home around 2am and went straight to bed, in the spare room.

It sounded like 'H' was being violently sick in the other bedroom, so I went to check on him. He had blocked the door and I couldn't get in. When I did eventually manage to get into his room he really was being ill. He had drunk the best part of a litre bottle of brandy. I thought this was really funny, because he didn't drink, and I told him it served him right. I did sit with him though and wrapped him up to keep warm. He then told me he had also taken a large number of paracetamol.

999 - hospital job!! I followed the ambulance to the hospital and waited to hear the results of the blood tests etc. it was around 6am by the time we were able to go home - no sleep that night, We both just got ready and went to work.

Around mid-day, 'H' came up to me with a work query and then went off laughing and joking with colleagues, as if nothing had happened. I just cracked up!

From what I can remember, I was out cold for about three days solid. I just completely switched off from everything around me. They had taken me to hospital but felt I would be alright to go home. Everybody kept asking if I had done anything silly or taken anything!

When I was more or less back to normal, I found that 'H' had kept the animals fed and watered, tidied and generally managed all round. This time he really seemed to mean it when he promised that things would be different.

During one of our 'lengthy' discussions, I phoned a local factory and got myself a job interview. We agreed that he would go for it instead. I must admit that I did have to laugh when the letter came through the door three days later saying he had got a job and could start at 6am the following Monday. I've never seen anyone look so disappointed or panic-stricken as he did at that point!! He did take it though and has stuck at it for nearly three months now.

Meanwhile, by this time, my friendship with 'A' had become a lot stronger and much deeper. 'A' had offered me the earth and I knew that I was falling in love with him. What frightened me though was whether I loved him because he was an escape route, because I needed someone or because he was everything I wanted 'H' to be. I didn't know what my real feelings were.

'A' offered me his spare room to move into. He even sorted out housing to accommodate all my animals. I could have gone to him but I was scared of being tied down again straight away and I was scared it wouldn't work out. All I really wanted to do was live on my own in the bungalow, with my animals being my only responsibility - no 'H', no 'A' and no pressure.

'H' wouldn't leave because he insisted that he could prove that we could work things out together and that he did intend to keep all his latest promises.

I didn't go to 'A' because:

...I wasn't really ready to leave my home and my lifestyle.
...I was scared of living life as a 37 year old instead of the 25 year old I still was.
...I didn't want to hurt 'A' if things didn't work out.
...I was scared in case I was making a mistake.
...I wanted a complete break, not jump out of the frying pan into the fire.

'A' had started talking about the two of us settling down and me moving in with him - even to the point of us getting married.

I know now that I really do love bot 'A' and 'H' for different reasons and in different ways. I want and need both of them but I know that's not possible and I can't bear to see either of them hurt.

'A' has never done anything at all to hurt me, quite the opposite in fact, so why should I hurt him? But, eight years is a long time to be with someone and, deep down, I am scared of losing 'H' completely.

So, I decided to call a halt to things completely with 'A' before they got too far out of hand but it really hurt him, although he said he understood. We had no more contact at all for a few weeks until 'A' phoned me late one night to say he'd put a dedication on the radio for me - "tell the world that 'A' loves 'R'. After that, things went really quiet.

I was really sick at the fact that I had lost a really good friend more than anything else, so I rang him after a while, to hopefully break the ice again. I did see him once more and our conversation was polite but very stilted, it was like meeting a stranger. That was it then for a few months.

Every day I find myself thinking about 'A'. I wait for the phone to ring every lunch time in case it's him and every night, as I drive home, I just want to keep driving until I get to his house.

Yesterday, I had a confrontation with 'H's boss at work. Apparently 'H' had made a deal that if he didn't reach his targets by the end of the month, his boss could have me for sex. 'H' said it was just a joke and that he had no intention of letting anyone have sex with me, it was meant to be an incentive for him but I don't want to be used as somebody's prize or threat - it just seems sick to me!

Last night I decided to go and see 'A' again and this time he seemed genuinely pleased to see me. We got on really well together again. We talked, laughed and watched a video of the live concert we'd been to see together.

The offers are still there and the feelings are still strong but we both know that I am staying with 'H', so nothing more will happen between us but it's hard work.

I think we both know that I won't be going round again because it hurts too much to have to pretend that we are nothing more than just good friends, when we both know that our feelings run much deeper.
~~~
NOTHING MAKES SENSE ANY MORE!!
~~~

A Tangled Web - 1991 (25)

By the time Iwas 25 'H' was still contact with his 'friend' (female of course). I was working all hours to make ends meet and he had his head firmly in the sand, not really working and hardly earning anything.

I became very close to a mutual friend 'A' but when I told 'H' I was leaving him, he took an overdose of paracetamol with half a bottle of brandy. I found him later that night and called an ambulance. He was taken to hospital, checked over, given the all-clear and then came home again. Everything simply seemed like a 'cry for help'

I still loved 'H' but couldn't handle his constant affairs and sexual 'flings' and just after his suicide attempt I just broke down and slept for three days solid - I just shut the world out...

Remember Me - Words of Comfort...

I found this poem, which I wrote just after my husband's step-brother died...
~~~
Remember me for always and hold me in your heart,
God only knows the reason why, so soon we had to part.
But though your heart is aching and tears they have to fall,
Don't cry for me, just smile for me, for now I'm walking tall.
~~~
I'm free from all my aching and pain I feel no more,
Such ease I feel within me, I have never felt before.
So cry no more for me now, just holdyour head up high,
You'll never have to call for me, I'm always standing by.
~~~
The times we used to laugh, remember them for me,
Remember all the good times, as they used to be.
Think no more of sorrow and banish all the pain,
There will be more good times, when we meet up again.
~~~

Changes 1988 - 1991 (22 - 25)

I've gone back to writing in the first person again...


...While 'on-the-club' I managed to bluff my way into a job as a secretary with a marketing and advertising firm in the city. I had to learn really fast but I made it.

My husband 'H' and I got back together again properly by the August of 1988 and we decided to buy our own house.

Things seemed to be looking up for a while but but the coming year brought some very trying times and yet more heartache.

Between 1987 and 1989 my husband's step-brother died suddenly of meningitis, he was only 21. My father-in-law was diagnosed with cancer (he was 50), my surrogate mum 'B' from the farm was diagnosed with cancer and died two weeks later (she was also only 50). The house we bought was literally falling down and my husband was being made redundant.

All at the same time, I found out by pure chance that my biological father was a different person to the man I'd always know as my dad, which explained a lot of the resentment displayed by my mother over the years.

By 1990 I had changed jobs and was working as a secretary/mortgage controller for an independent financial advisor, 'H' had trained to be a financial advisor with a large firm and was self employed, Our house was still falling down and we were broke!

Soon after my birthday in 1990, I joined the same company as 'H' as a Personal Assistant to one of the senior associates but by the November 'H' was involved in another 'friendship' and, as we were so broke, we decided to hand the keys back on our house, before we were faced with re-possession.

It was also in November I received a devastating call telling me that my step-father had died suddenly from a massive heart attack, while working in Germany - I was mortified, he too was only 50 and had seemed so fit and healthy and was always the life and soul of any party.

Meanwhile, having given up our house we rented a bungalow - next door to the kennels...

Thursday, 22 October 2009

The Start of a Breaking Heart (27/12/1987)

When my first husband died in 1992, his personal effects were passed to me. In amongst them I found a number of letters and cards that I had given to him over the years. This is a copy of the letter I wrote to him when he left me on 27th December 1987...

Dear 'H'

I have got to write this down, as I know if I try and say it, it will come out all wrong.

Lat night was the worst night of my life and I don't want to have to go through it again.

I can understand you wanting to help a friend out but I'm not sure of myself and you any more. I'm not trying to cross-examine you but I would like some questions answered (truthfully) and it's not because I don't believe or trust you, because I do.

How close a friend were you? Because if you weren't that close, why ring you after four years. If you were at 'the garage' how did she get your number at 'the depot'?

Why did it take from 6:30pm to 2:30am to help her out?

Will you be seeing her again and how well did you get on last night?

Do you think you would like to get to know her better and maybe break away from me?

I know these questions may sound stupid, jealous and bitchy, but they're not meant to.

I just need to know, now, whether you are seeing someone else and we are to finish or whether you want me for good. I promise I won't go beserk if you slept with her last night and I won't walk out either - unless you want me to.

I don't want anyone else, I love you so much and I need you more than you'll ever know. Please don't let us follow our parents' example, please just promise each other honesty - no matter how hard it is.

Put yourself in my shoes last night. I had no warning, no choice. You said you wouldn't be that late. Half past two you came in to tell me you'd spent the night round a girl's that I don't know. You took her to the river, sat listening to records and watching videos.

You wouldn't take it from me. Going out is one thing but you always know where and when I'll be home and if you are really honest, if I told you that I had been alone with some bloke I knew, in his house from 6.30 - 2.30, I wouldn't be surprised if you went beserk and left me (if you're really honest).

I'll make you a promise that there'll be no more nights out for me like the 'works do' unless you're with me.

Please tell me what you want from me. I need to know now.

What's past is past. I want to work on the future, hopefully with you but what will be will be. I know I'm a bitch and I know I've let you down recently where love and money is concerned but when I know where I stand with you, I'll know what to do to improve it.

The ball's in your court, I'll always love you but I'll never hold you.

Please choose and do what you want and be happy.

All my love
'R'
xxx


I never got a written reply. I remember taking the train from work into the city and calling him to meet me. I gave him this letter, asked him to read it and then to please give me an answer.

I'll always remember that moment. He read it, put it back in the envelope and answered me with: "I don't know!" He then took me home, collected some of his stuff and moved back to stay with his father.

I was devastated - my marriage was over and I hadn't seen it coming!!

Infidelity, Panic Attacks and Hepatitis 1984 - 1988 (18 - 22)

She loves her boyfriend more than anything in the world and for the first time in her life she feels safe, loved and wanted. She soon learns that all good things do come to an end!

It is at her 18th birthday party he first leaves her. He breaks off the engagement and takes his mate's girlfriend back to his mother's. Ironically, the record playing at the time is, "it's my party and I'll cry if I want to..." except she doesn't! She doesn't let anyone know just how much she is hurting.

They get back together a few weeks later and on Halloween of 1984 they move in together, renting a small Granny Annexe on a farm owned by a wonderful, old fashioned family, who basically adopt her and 'B' becomes her surrogate mum.

They get married, while living at the farm, when she is twenty and all seems to be going well (despite a few more minor 'flings' on his part before their marriage).

By this stage her work has included kennel maid, nanny, shepherdess, pigwoman and dog beautician.

In the first year of their marriage she is running her own business, dog grooming, back at the kennels but the pressure gets too much and the 'sex' scene is too much to cope with. She starts suffering panic attacks and has a mild breakdown.

After some weeks of counselling and hypnotherapy she is able to pull herself together and leaves the kennels once again. She takes work at a poultry factory, where she does yard maintenance and becomes a fork lift truck driver.

All is well until the Christmas after their first anniversary. On 27th December her husband goes out, with no warning, and doesn't come home again until the early hours of the following morning. The next day he tells her their marriage is over - he's met someone else!!

Fortunately, for her, this 'someone else' isn't seriously interested in him - he is just her 'play-thing' and the affair lasts about six months.

To begin with she just goes to pieces. She travels to Scotland, alone, for a few days to think things over and clear her head but eventually they agree to stay together - mainly because the 'other woman' doesn't really want him. He still goes to see the 'other woman' when she calls - until the 'other woman' discovers she is pregnant and has an abortion (they both deny the baby is his).

He stops seeing the 'other woman' shortly after the abortion and, by the August of 1988, the affair is over. However, by this stage she has other problems. During his affair, she has become addicted to gambling - fruit machines in the works canteen - and is drinking and smoking heavily. She is getting badly into debt feeding her habits.

Near the end of August she contracts Hepatitis 'A' - the doctor says it could be from contaminated water and rats in the yard at the poultry factory, especially if she has been smoking while she's working - although she wonders if it's because she's been drinking too much.

Whilst 'laid up' she's able to take a good look at herself and her life and doesn't like what she sees.

So, she changes - completely...

New Love 1983 - 1984 (17 - 18)

Shortly after her seventeenth birthday she moves back out to the countryside to work as a live-in mother's help and kennel maid.

By this stage she has lost touch with virtually all of the old crowd she'd grown up with - except a boyfriend she's been seeing for about nine months. She misses them all dreadfully but knows she has to move on.

She hasn't been at the kennels long when her boyfriend suggests they should consider settling down. This scares the hell out of her as she realises that, as much as she likes him, she doesn't love him. She doesn't want to hurt him but she doesn't want to lead him on when the feelings just aren't there. She isn't ready to get married or settle down so she finishes things between them, with no further ado.

Only a short while later life is on the change again...

While visiting her family one evening, she meets a man who has taken up lodgings with her old foster carers. They hit it off straight away (love at first sight) and within a few months they are engaged.

Her time at the kennels is certainly an education, with an unusual marital arrangement between her bosses and strange and open sexual practices, which she finds herself getting involved with - wild parties and no holds barred!

When she decides to settle down seriously with her new boyfriend, she makes a commitment to herself to be faithful and leave the wild life behind.

Unfortunately, that fidelity is very one sided and in the years to come her commitment is to be tried and tested over and over again...

Foster Care - Somebody Else's Experience...?

While sorting out all my papers etc. I found this letter that was written to me in August 2002. Sadly, I didn't reply to her at the time - I'm not sure exactly why, maybe I wasn't ready to talk openly but I will try and find her now, she deserves to be listened to and maybe talking will help both of us close a door.

30th August 2002

Dear 'R'

I hope you don't mind me writing to you but I used to know your sister. I know that your family used to live opposite me. I used to live with 'S&E'.

I understand you lived there for six months. I lived there for seven years. I don't know about you but living with them was one of the worst experiences I have ever had. I wondered how you got on with them.

I wondered if you wanted to, we could meet up and have a chat - only if you want to. If you don't want to meet, I understand.

I know 'S&E' fostered a lot of children and you are the first person that I know that also stayed with them.

I don't know if I am the only one who didn't have a good time with them.

I don't really want to put too much detail in this letter but to outline it simply, I had problems with both 'S&E'.

If you wanted someone to talk to, I am here. Anyway, if you would like to meet and chat, just let me know okay.

Thank you for your time.

'T'

I feel really mean now for not making contact when I got this letter, to be honest I think I just read it and put it away to deal with later. I know what it feels like to want to talk with someone who understands or someone who's 'been there', so I will make a real effort to get in touch. Six months felt like a lifetime to me, I just can't imagine seven years - too scary.

Girl at Fifteen 1982 - 1983 (15 - 16)

It looks like I wrote this when I was around 18 - I find it interesting now, how many times I've written in the third person - obviously a survival technique (it didn't happen to me - it was someone else).


...Girl at fifteen lives in a smallish village with her mother, step-father, older step-brother and younger brother and sister.

She doesn't feel as though she is loved or wanted by her mother, with elements of resentment etc. and constant emotional rejection.

There are many fights between her parents, from which she is used as a scape goat and a tool for releasing her mother's frustration and anger.

The only time she is really and truly happy is when she is able to socialise with the local crowd. Many of her closest friends are a few years older than her but she fits in well with them and feels that she's liked and wanted.

Along with the others, she loves heavy metal and rock & roll, so the youth club, youth club discos and young farmers' nights are always enjoyable and memorable occasions.

She works weekends and school holidays on a pig farm, the farmer's son is only nine and she often pushes him around in a wheelbarrow. He's also good friends with her younger brother and sister who are seven and eight. She loves the farm and has her heart set on working full time on a farm when she leaves school.

This isn't really something the school is able to encourage one of their 'young ladies' as it's a Catholic school for girls but no way does she want an office job. She's a tom-boy, one of the lads and proud of it!

In the January before her sixteenth birthday, she can't stand living at home any longer and is sick of being punished for things she hasn't done and sick of the hidings that just make her mother feel better. She is sick of not knowing when and what she is going to get 'bawled out' for next. So she leaves.

She packs a small bag and runs to the youth club where she finds a girlfriend who has a car and gets a lift to the city, where she spends the night with a boyfriend before really starting life out on her own.

She initially lives with her cousin and travels to the city each day to finish the very last phase of her schooling. She gets on fairly well with her teachers and fellow pupils but she is constantly getting caught for smoking and skiving off the lessons she doesn't want to attend. Her 'self-definition' is a likeable rebel, definite non-conformist but rarely actually disruptive.

The stay with her cousin is fun while it lasts but, unfortunately, only short lived. Her mother doesn't feel that the cousin is a good influence on her, so she is placed 'in care' until her sixteenth birthday.

Being put with foster carers for five or six months doesn't sound so bad, except the family she is placed with live opposite her own family and it is hell all round.

For the short time she lives there, she is forever being reminded that if she steps out of line - just one foot out of place - she will be kept in care until she is eighteen.

Shortly after her sixteenth birthday she finds a job in a shop through a Youth Training Scheme and lodgings with a lady in the city. Working in a shop isn't her ida of fun so she finds new work at the local animal shelter. It's roughly a year before she is on the move again...

Wednesday, 21 October 2009

I Remember...

Here's something I wrote - dated 19/09/1988... (I'm going to copy it, virtually as it was written originally, so please excuse any bad grammar etc. - I am going to change names though and any directly identifying features.)

I Remember

I went back to school today, only for a visit! I'm twenty two now and it's nearly seven years since I left.

I'll have been married for two years tomorrow, my old teachers couldn't believe it. They said they were proud of me and it was lovely for them to look at me and see that I'd 'made it'.

"Made it!" Made what? Become rich, famous, married a millionaire or become a successful business woman even? That's how I'd always defined the phrase "Made it!" I mean, look at me, what am I? What have I got? I'm married but with no children, I can't afford to give up work, we live in a rented flat, I work 39 hours a week in a factory (really intelligent work that is!!) and I've got no really worthwhile academic qualifications, just a few average C.S.E. grades, so fat chance of ever becoming a successful business woman!! And they reckon I've made it, well I'd hate to see some of those who haven't.

I've been wishing a lot recently. I wish I didn't have to worry about money (I want to start a family now), I wish I'd worked harder at school (I could have got much better grades), then at least I might stand a chance of getting a decent job. "Oh I wish I could start again!"

Sister 'M' said it was a comfort to her to see her ex-pupils come back as a success. But I'm not, I'm probably one of the world's biggest flops.

I saw Sister 'M.A.' today, she was my friend and sort of pen-pal while I was at school. I haven't been in touch with her for a few years now. She's a lovely lady, so much 'pep' and 'get-up-and-go'. Now she is someone who made it (I think!). She's eighty two nearly, unbelievable to look at her, she doesn't look a day over sixty - and that's no exaggeration (I wish I could be more like her, she's great).

Sister 'M.A.' wasn't in the least bit angry or offended with my lack of correspondence, she was just delighted to see me and made me feel quite special. (Oh I wish I'd kept in touch!)

(*for info* My own brother and sister were pupils at my old school at this point.)

My sister and I went to 'H's' cafe for a coffee at break time. We took the side gate out, which brought back a few memories I can tell you. It goes through the courtyard of small but thriving businesses and it was here that I suddenly remembered a man who had a kind of timber firm there.

He was really nice and his son 'Tom' was a year below me at school. I often used to sit round there for a chat and a cigarette, especially when I felt things were getting too hard to handle at home or at school.

I was often getting caught for smoking and skiving (I wish I hadn't done that now!). Anyway, I looked back up the yard and saw an old man polishing something outside what used to be the old timber shop, so I thought I'd enquire anyway about Mr 'X' ( I wish I could remember his name): "Excuse me" I said. "Could you tell me what happened to the gentleman who used to do the wood?" "That was me" replied the old man. I laughed slightly and said: "Oh no, it wasn't you, this must be going back a few years now (thinking at the same time 'and you're an old man, he wasn't) oh, and he had a son called 'Tom'.

With this, the old man excused himself and went back into the workshop: "come in a minute" he called, "now, what were you saying?" "oh yes," I began to repeat myself when I suddenly saw his face properly and I saw the same warm fatherly features I remembered.

"It was you!" I exclaimed, then spent the next five minutes apologising and wishing I'd kept my big mouth shut as usual.

Mr 'X' laughed kindly and explained that he'd been very ill recently, this was how he'd come to lose his hair and look so much older. He looked so well when I last saw him, I just couldn't believe how much someone could go through and change, in the space of what I worked out to be a maximum of two years.

I wish I could remember his name! He remembered mine and recalled the times I used to sit round the yard just praying for the day I could leave school and 'be free'. He also remembered when the big day finally arrived...

I called round to the yard before I left, to say goodbye to everyone, and promptly burst into tears. Looking back now it must have been really funny. Just like a released prisoner banging on the gates begging to be let back in again.

When we finally left the yard, we carried on to 'H's' 'Hall-of-Memories' cafe for our cup of coffee. I remember my sister saying: "He's a lovely man isn't he!" To which I had to agree (I'm glad she's not like me).

I've done a lot of thinking today, about one thing and another, and the different things people have told me. Sister 'M.A.' gave me a few things to think about, like: "Memories are wonderful things to have, although given the chance to go back, no doubt there would be more than a few changes made. But, you must live to learn and to learn is, to live! It's never too late to try and make amends or to try and fulfil some of those little wishes but you must never lose hope and faith!"

Mr 'X' also gave me food for thought. He was delighted to hear I was married and one piece of advice was: "Don't ever be afraid to show your affection for him or put your arms around his neck and tell him you love him. That way you'll always have a happy man. Never hide your true feelings or emotions and that way, you'll always be happy!"

Mr 'X' said he'd been married for twenty eight years and all of those to one lady - and he's proud of it. (I hope my husband will feellike that one day.) Mr 'X' says: "It's by no means all a bed of roses but if you love someone or something enough, it's worth sticking out and working for and, by that alone, the bond becomes stronger each day." He also said that if I make sure I know my own priorities and keep them in the right order, I will never be lonely or unhappy. And, always try to be there for other people because where would you be without them - Whoever they are?!

It's funny really, thinking back now I realise that despite everything Mr 'X' must have been through, he never once moaned or felt sorry for himself, his main concern was for other people. He really does care about others!

My sister was right, he is a lovely man, as were everyone I saw today, they're all special. I realise now that there are more important things to life than fortune, fame and material wealth. life's too short to have regrets and bear grudges and, although the grass may look greener on the other side, the richer grass is that which you've sown, reared and cared for yourself.

When I've finished writing this, I'm going to write to Sister 'M.A.' . I'm going to do it now because I don't know what tomorrow holds.

Then, I'm going to try and do all the things I was going to do tomorrow that I should have done yesterday. I've remembered Mr 'X's name - it was the least I could do.

I love my husband much more than I could ever say and I'm going to make a point of telling him as soon as he comes home from work tonight. I'm lucky to have such a good husband, always patient and kind, which is something I don't always deserve.

We're in the process of buying a house at the moment, near the sea. It's small and old and needs a lot of tender, loving care and it's quite a way from where we'd have liked but it's a start - and, to be honest, I love it.

I took a course in dog grooming a couple of years ago, so I am now a qualified dog beautician and, when we move, I can hopefully start up a business clipping etc. I'll have to do it part time at first but once I become established in the area, I can also think about starting a family and run the two together.

My factory job is rather soul destroying but I have got one of the best jobs there - I'm out in the yard and the company did put me on a fork-lift course, from which I've earned myself a certificate to say I'm a competent fork-lift driver.

Oh, and I'm looking into taking up evening classes to better my education, I'll probably only be able to manage one course at a time but at least I'll have something at the end of it

I've been for a job interview with a Marketing and Advertising company, as I'll have to leave the factory when we move. I should get the result next week but, even if i don't get this one, there are plenty more jobs I can apply for.

I'm taking a good look at my life at the moment and I realise now just how lucky I am. I've got my health and there are so many people around me who care. Life's too short to resent what I haven't got and it's time I started appreciating what I have got - be it material or otherwise.

From now on, it's going to be: "I'm going to...!!" instead of : "I wish I had...!"

My teachers could be right after all, at least I know my priorities now. I've still got a lot to learn but I think...

...I've nearly made it!!

Opening a Can of Worms?

Oh boy!! Since deciding to start this blog, I've pulled out and gone through all my boxes and files of scribbles, memoirs and memories and, apart from feeling a bit emotionally drained, I'm also quite pleased with myself...

I'm not normally the tidiest or most organised person when it comes to putting things away in their proper places but I have really surprised myself with the fact I seem to have saved so much 'stuff' from over the years, it really is like my whole life has been sitting in these boxes just waiting for me to finally put it into some sort of order.

Some of the 'stuff' I've found has made me laugh, some made me cry and some has left me feeling angry, confused and even guilty.

I've found everything from my school reports, junior and high, letters from my Dad and Step-Dad (both have long since died) that I didn't even know I'd kept.

I found letters and cards to and from my boyfriends and my late husband. Sympathy cards and newspaper cuttings following my first husband's death.

I've come across so many 'scribbles' and letters to 'thin air' that I've written over the last twenty-plus years - usually at very low points. Some of them I find hard to recognise as having been written by me, I'm seeing a different person - my 'yesterday' self.

I think the best way for me to carry on with this blog is to just type copies of stuff I've found - which probably means things may be a bit erratic- but it'll be a start...

Tuesday, 20 October 2009

In a Nutshell

I'm still not really sure how or where to start with regard to pulling everything together so, for my sake, I'll do a rough summary of my life so far in the hope that it will act as a kind of guide, with areas/prompts that I can dip in and out of in more detail further along the line.

I'm off work all day today, so it seems like a good time to start laying the foundations. I can only envisage having an hour a day maximum hereafter to keep adding to the blog.

So, in a nutshell...

My mother's family were all in or connected to circuses, fairgrounds and showbusiness before I was born. I knew very little about my Dad's background, although I grew up knowing some wonderful aunts, uncles and cousins from his side.

However, when I was 22/23 I found out, by chance, that my biological father was in fact someone totally different - all I have of him is a very common name and a couple of photographs from Germany in 1965.

Family life was very volatile when I was growing up, my parents divorced when I was 11 and although my mum met a really lovely man, who played a fantastic fatherly role, life at home became more and more volatile.

At 15, I ran away from home - for good. The trouble was, with six months to go before my 16th birthday, I ended up living with foster carers (I could never call them parents), who lived in the same street as my family - the authorities thought this would be better for me than going into a home!!

In May 1982 I took my exams and finished school (all girls' Catholic) - amazingly, I passed but the results were definitely nothing to write home about. I think the teachers had already written me off, although one of the nuns was really wonderful and we kept in touch for a number of years after I left.

Bang on 16, I got a job as a sales assistant on a 'Youth Training Scheme' and found myself lodgings in the nearby city. I had a lovely land-lady who semi 'mothered/big-sistered' me. But most importantly, I was free (despite numerous threats that I would be kept 'in care' until I was 18 - terrifying!!).

At 17 I moved on to a live-in job as a mother's help/kennel-maid and at 18 I was working on a pig farm, lodging with a family nearby.

I married for the first time at 20, although at 21 he left me for what became one of his many affairs. This one hurt the most though, becase he actually left me and I never saw it coming. We did get back together and stayed together until 1992, when I left him, had a major affair myself, and he committed suicide!!

Meanwhile, our marriage was already very rocky by 1991 and I was given the opportunity of a new life with a mutual friend, who I'd always thought the world of. We spent one night together in 1991, with no regrets, but it was the wrong time and so we parted, still friends, though I didn't see him again until my husband's funeral.

The man I had an affair with in 1992, and left my husband for, was considerably older than me and owned a recording studio in the City. He made me feel so special and we worked all hours together, mostly producing radio commercials for the local station.

It was an amazing roller coaster of a year from April 1992 through to January 1993 and he offered me the world. Materially, I would probably never have wanted for anything again.

There was one big problem though, my emotions were all over the place and I realised that I didn't really love him. Not honestly, I cared for him a lot, but I didn't truly love him - I was still in love with my husband.

After my husband's death I knew I couldn't stay with someone I didn't honestly love, so I left. I heard from him out of the blue last year (nearly sixteen years later) when he sent a friend to deliver a parcel to me - he had started writing a book all those years ago, finished it and had it published. The parcel was a copy of his book, which had 'for.....' my name printed on the first page. To this day I have no idea how he knew how or where to find me.

Back to 1993, shortly after my husband's death, I found myself a small house to rent near the sea and managed to get a job locally, supporting people with learning difficulties.

The few years I worked at the home, which also had a small livestock farm, were probably some of the happiest, funniest and most fulfilling years of my life. I met some amazing people and can quite honestly say I considered myself to be a 'resident on a payroll'. Some of the residents taught me so much it's hard to explain - they also moulded me for a future I could never have imagined possible. It was also while working here I met my future sister-in-law, who became my best friend.

1993 was definitely a year of new beginnings, as it was also the year I met the man I would spend the next eleven years of my life with. When we first met, I was 26 and he was 37. He had never left home and still lived with his mother (who was 79 and also recently widowed). in 1994 I gave up my house and we all moved together into a little bungalow that had been left to 'mother' for her lifetime. On the whole, we all lived quite happily together, although it wasn't always easy.

Sadly, in 1997 my 'early years' Dad, who was living abroad, died from liver cancer (my step-dad had died suddenly from a heart attack in 1990 aged 50 and I still know nothing about my biological father).

Meanwhile, also in 1997 my boyfriend's mother had a heart attack. Although it wasn't fatal, at 83 she never fully recovered and in June 1998, she was diagnosed with secondary liver cancer. She chose to come home to die and I was able to take unconditional leave from work to care for her. I felt very privileged to be able to look after her and I know that she died peacefully, with her dignity firmly in tact - just as she wanted.

As the bungalow was only for the lifetime of 'Mother' my boyfriend and I had to find somewhere else to live, as soon as possible. By this time I was working as a mortgage advisor in the City and managed to arrange a 100% mortgage for us (we had hardly any money of our own for a deposit) and we bought a little cottage in the country. That was probably the best move we ever made - a little bit of financial security for both of us.

Unfortunately, after 'Mother' died, our relationship changed - with hindsight, I think I became her replacement (only, without her authority). My boyfriend had a very controlling nature and often referred jokingly to himself as 'a control freak', as did many of the people that knew him.

I endured a huge amount of emotional and psychological 'controlling' over the years with my boyfriend without realising it and in 2001 we got married.

It still makes me sad to realise that I was clutching at straws by marrying him and virtually from that day on, he never touched me sexually again.

It wasn't just the sexual rejection that hurt, it was the continual rejection of my feelings and my identity. I was lost, lonely and very down-trodden. In fact, I would never have believed, before this, that anyone could be so lonely when they're married or living with another person.

Don't get me wrong, he wasn't (isn't) a bad person, he was a great 'comedian' in public and very deep and sensitive in private. I loved him very much and I was sad when things turned out the way they did. Depression was something my boyfriend suffered regularly at different times of the year but after his mother died, he seemed to have more 'down' times than 'up'.

We had a particularly bad time over the Christmas and New Year of 2002, with so many things said and done that hurt so much, I knew our relationship and marriage was over and I knew I had to leave, especially if I wanted my own sanity to remain in tact.

I could feel myself spiralling down into a black pit, I was drinking far too much, far too often, and I didn't like the person I was becoming. On and off during 2003 I went away and stayed with my old employer and her children (adults now) at the kennels, to have some thinking time and try and work things out. These separations made no difference whatsoever and each time, on return, I would be greeted with: "Do you feel better after your little break?"

September 2003 was a definite 'life-changer' for both of us.

By now, I was a manager in a care home and, one night after work, I agreed to go for a drink with a couple of the girls to meet up with an old 'mutual' friend...

When I walked into the pub I heard his laugh, recognised his voice and then, when he hugged me, I didn't ever want him to let me go. I was back in 1991 again - but this time I wanted to stay, forever.

Just meeting up with my old friend again, gave me the strength I needed to make that final decision to end my marriage once and for all. It was almost a year before we could be together properly (even though I told my husband the very next day). After a shed-load of heartache and turmoil, we made it in the end.

I think, second to running away from home all those years ago, the scariest but most exciting and liberating time for me was shortly after telling my husband that it was over and that I was leaving for good, I got myself a passport and went to Spain, with my 'friend' for my first 'real' holiday ever.

Ironically, although the holiday was booked, my passport didn't arrive until the morning of the day we were due to fly. That's got to be fate!!

To bring things quickly up to date... I finally left the 'marital home' in August 2004 and moved in with my 'friend'. I continued to pay half the mortgage with my husband for a year, while he found his feet.

My divorce became final in November 2007, on the grounds of my husband's unreasonable behaviour and the financial settlement from the house was agreed and completed shortly afterwards.

Meanwhile, my friend and I...

We've both changed jobs (working far more sociable hours), we've built a house together, we were interviewed for and granted permission to marry in Church last year and, whilst on honeymoon, we found and bought a lovely little apartment in a small Spanish Town in Andalucia, near the Sea.

Well, I guess this nutshell has turned out a lot bigger than I expected but then there's a very big nut to go inside it.

Reasons and Reasoning

My sister-in-law died this year - March 23rd 2009 - the day after mother's day. She was my friend and I loved her. She turned 40 in September last year and had been in remission from cancer for over eight years. One night in January she had what appeared to be a stroke but turned out to be a brain tumor. She lived long enough to put her affairs in order, organise her funeral, choose her burial plot and, most importantly, let her two girls (14 & 8) know how much she loved them. I miss her!!

Meanwhile, I was away with my husband this weekend, enjoying the peace and tranquility of the countryside but when we returned home we were shocked to hear our friend (who will be 49 on Thursday), was in hospital, following a heart attack. Thankfully the prognosis is good and he should, pretty much, make a full recovery.

Sadly, these are not new experiences to me but I am still amazed at how much they send me reeling and hurt so much.

I'm suddenly more aware of my own mortality than ever and, although I've often scribbled my thoughts and feelings down on scraps of paper over the years, I feel I need to review my life and put it into perspective.

It's very egotistical, I know, but I want to make and leave a footprint! I want people to know I have lived, this is me - 'I woz ere'!! I'm proud of my life and my achievements and at times I have laughed in the face of adversity, fallen and picked myself up again, and I am mostly very happy - with a 'wicked' sense of humour.

Monday, 19 October 2009

Does everything start at the beginning??

I have so many scribbles and scraps of paper that I've accumulated over the years which, obviously to me, make up the story of my life so far. On the one hand I'm just an ordinary person with an ordinary life but on the other, I am complex and deep.

So much has happened in 43 years, not all bad, not all painful, not by any means. I have had lots of fun, laughs, good and happy times but there are so many areas I am still trying to find answers for...