Odds & Ends

Posted on by SingleRheum

CW: suicide

It’s almost midnight on Monday 18th March 2019, and I’ve just watched this week’s episode of Criminal Minds. Nothing odd or unusual about either of those things, at least on the surface.

Tonight’s episode had a special guest star who I’ve not seen on TV in many years, the talented singer Johnny Mathis. Very famous in the 70s for any younger readers who are thinking who?! He had/has a beautiful and very distinctive voice which even as children my sister and I loved, probably mostly because my Dad had his cassette in the car 🙂

About fourteen years ago my sister’s partner, Andy, emailed to me (if my memory serves) a link to an mp3 of a song he’d been begged to find by Mary. She’d had no idea of artist or title, just remembered a snatch of lyrics about an “empty tube of toothpaste”. Well, bless him, he finally found it on a Russian music site (this was before YouTube got useful) and voila, here it was – Odds and Ends by Johhny Mathis for the first time since we were children.

Talking about it after we could both clearly remember listening to the song over & over in the car outside a local pub while Mum & Dad popped in for a drink*.

*Important historical note – in the late seventies children were as welcome in most pubs as the bubonic plague, and about as likely to happen. Crisps & lemonade in the car park in the summer were a treat 😉

I digress – so OK, it’s nice that I saw this singer on TV tonight after all this time, and it sent me on a little trip down memory lane, but that’s still not odd or unusual.

Until you factor in the date.

As I’m writing these very words it’s almost midnight, by the time this has posted it’ll be the 19th March.

Which is exactly 12 years to the day since Mel died. I had no plan to post or blog, in fact the date wasn’t something I was conscious of, until Mr Mathis appeared in my living room this evening, looking older but still with his beautiful twinkly eyes.

So I’ve played the song through a few times, it’s made me remember happy days and laughter, and it’s made me smile, as well as cry.

Although written about the end of a love affair, in light of my sister’s suicide one part of the second verse feels particularly poignant;

“At least you could have said goodbye
You shouldn’t have run away
Were you afraid that I would cry?
My tears might have made you stay”

But – feeling sad is OK, grief is the price we pay for love, and I pay it gladly, because my heart would be so much less without her in it.

As I’m sure I’ve mentioned before I’m not religious, but I am spiritual, and I know in my soul that in some form or other we continue, energy does not die. To quote the writer Aaron Freeman;

“You want the physicist to talk to your grieving family about the conservation of energy, so they will understand that your energy has not died. You want the physicist to remind your sobbing mother about the first law of thermodynamics; that no energy gets created in the universe, and none is destroyed. You want your mother to know that all your energy, every vibration, every bit of heat, every wave of every particle that was her beloved child remains with her in this world.”

And whether you believe in gods, goddesses, divine beings, angels, a guiding light in the universe or the principles of science alone, whether you believe it was serendipity, fate, the angels or the stars that brought Johnny Mathis back into my life in this particular moment, on this day, I call that magic.

I feel blessed. 🙏💙

Support:
For anyone in need of emotional and/or mental health support for low mood or suicidal feelings please, please, reach out. Call a friend, a stranger, me, a doctor, therapist, whoever but ask, help is out there for you. The Samaritans are available 24/7 in the UK & ROI for free, confidential support

Mandala Metaphor…

Posted on by SingleRheum

We all know what Mandalas are, right? Those pretty round pictures that come in mindfulness coloring books? They have a number of interesting historical meanings, they are said to be a visual metaphor for the innate order and beauty of the universe, as well as metaphors for political, psychological and social statements. Buddhists, who patiently create them in coloured sand tend to use them as a metaphor for transformation and enlightenment.

It’s the transformation and enlightenment aspect that has grabbed me today, though not in that particular order. It’s fascinating to me that this little enlightenment has come through the form of the mandala, which has made me reflect on transformation. Sometimes the universe sends what we need 🕉️

Below is the link to a video that was shared today by the lovely Lene – please do follow her @TheSeatedView , you won’t regret it! It starts at 7m32s so you can see the exact segment we were viewing, which very beautifully shows hand exercises in the form of mandala shapes – clever and easy on the eye.

However… I watched, then went back, paused, watched again and all I could think was ‘are they really bending their hands that far?’. Yep, I can confirm they are, I’ve viewed it verrry closely. And what hit me was that they hadn’t searched the country for four models with “super-hand” abilities, this was how other people’s hands move. All the time, without them even thinking about it.

I tried. And my hands can’t do these movements, and trying hurt. I’ll be honest, I welled up for a moment. The enlightenment here is that I’ve simply failed to consciously notice over the past couple of years just how bad my hands have become. So in a way it was like a sudden… revelation. Almost a shock. Weird huh?!

I think a lot of that is down to the very gradual nature of the transformation (you knew I’d get there!). Had I gone to bed last night with my hands of three years ago, and woken up with my hands of today I’d have been screaming for doctors to fix me. Over three years I’ve slowly made adaptions, changed the way I do some things, stopped doing others, used tools to support etc.

A mish mash of coping methods that has added up to my odd ignorance of just how bad they’ve become. It’s mostly that the RA damage to my tendons and enthesitis have massively restricted my movement, leading over time to loss of hand agility and strength. So I wanted to review exactly what coping methods I use… And to share the extent of how much RA has changed a myriad of small daily tasks to raise awareness. They might even help you, bonus 🙂

  • Changing the bed – my cleaner does it, I can’t even put a quilt cover on or stretch on a fitted sheet
  • I have no grip strength – earlier I needed to open a flat plastic tray of bacon, I made the mistake of trying to grip the corner & pull the plastic film up – rookie error, that finger thumb grip kills me. Its like opening a yoghurt pot or a carton of milk, teeth or knives are needed
  • Kettle – I no longer can use one. I have a Breville One Cup, and when I fill it with water I have to use a plastic jug half filled and use both hands to hold it to pour
  • Tin opener – can only use electric one, the other was binned long ago
  • Jars etc – I have an amazing rubber square from my OT which will grip much better than I can, but occasionally I can’t even open with that & I give in or grab a neighbour
  • Cooking – am slowly giving it up, I last peeled & chopped veg a few weeks ago, then sat down & ordered some pre prepped food & some ready meals. Of course I also can’t move hot saucepans, another reason to keep it simple & safe
  • Cleaning – getting a small stubborn stain out of the carpet recently lost me the use of my wrist & elbow completely for three days – from now on my lovely cleaner’s job if needed
  • Sewing – not that I do loads, but machine only, small movements for hand sewing & even pinning hems really hurts
  • Reading – my biggest love but damn, holding a book is hard. Moving more & more over to my kindle app on my tablet
  • Dressing, washing, doing my hair… the only way I can can dry my hair is to drop my head down and use my knee to support my arm holding the hair dryer. It’s complicated 🙄😅
  • Writing by hand for longer than about three seconds… 🤣

I’m sure there are other people things that will occur the minute I publish this, but frankly I’d bore myself, you get the picture. Yeah, so my hands, pretty crap and mostly painful. So I definitely won’t be doing the Mandala hand workout anytime soon.

But that doesn’t mean I can’t appreciate the very clever beauty of it. Namaste 🙏💜

https://www.pscp.tv/w/bZo90nR3LTcxMzA5MjM2NHwxTW54bmVhZXp2akpPRqjkRT1-GsBc73pklr4lZ3TaiR4bYZj_G6gv3S73Mew=?t=7m32s

The Mercurial Whirlwind..

Posted on by SingleRheum

*Content warning – suicide

On Monday 19th February it was eleven years since my Dad phoned me early one evening to tell me that my younger sister Mary had died. She was 35.

You hear people say things like “I knew it was bad news when the phone rang” but I genuinely went cold on the first ring – I’ve no idea how to explain it, but I swear I somehow knew it was really bad news about Mel.
Unfortunately she had ended her own life. I could speculate for hours (and did initially) on exactly why, but it serves no purpose. The simple truth is that at that moment in time she needed to stop. Bipolar disorder certainly impacted her actions.
But that was how she ended, it wasn’t who she was. I’m not sure I have the words to capture the mercurial whirlwind that was my little sister. No one else has ever made me laugh (or cry) so hard. She was beautiful, funny, kind, generous, quixotic. She was also stubborn, defensive, argumentative and had a flash temper that raged white hot then just as quickly was gone.

She’d unexpectedly turn that megawatt smile on you and you had no choice but to grin back.

As kids we fought so much, but had each others back, always. I have loads of fabulous memories, good and bad, and that’s how it should be, saintly she wasn’t!

I remember at the time she died being unexpectedly angry with her, simply because we were supposed to grow old together. Losing her was hard, but it was almost as tough dealing with the loss of both past and future memories.

There is no-one else who remembers how to play “mummies, daddies & little darlings”, who knows how you had to step over the second floorboard from the bathroom door because it creaked so loudly, who swears she saw a ghost in our kitchen, who could play connect four for hours, who can remind me how I taught her all the basic swear words after she begged me to! Who was my partner in crime on teenage hair and makeup, and my best friend even when we ‘hated’ each other.

It’s like I lost some of the vibrancy from my past memories when she died, they’re still there, but without her to help me take them out and polish them or argue over them they’ve faded.

Of course we should also already have another eleven years of adult sisterhood to mull over. But she’ll never make a new memory in this life, as much as I carry her with me always.

There’s simply a Mel shaped hole missing from the second half of my life.

So I want to use this post to let anyone who is feeling like they want to stop know they are not alone. You are worthwhile, you are seen, you are loved. This really will pass, so please reach out for support in whatever form feels comfortable. I promise help is out there.

UK & ROI Samaritans – 116 123

USA – Lifeline Chat – 1-800-273-8255.

Australia – Lifeline – 13-11-14

Canada – The Canada Suicide Prevention Service – 1-833-456-4566

Finding Balance 

Posted on by SingleRheum

Yesterday I cried and wept, illness taking friends is so bleak

Today I (chair) danced and sang with friends who filled the room with life
Yesterday was for death and dying
Today was for love and joy

Balance is so important. Anyone with a chronic illness sees too much darkness. We lose time, we lose careers, and sadly sometimes we lose friends.

There are those who might say that if we’re singing and laughing then we can’t be that ill, or we exaggerate the pain. There are those who would say if we can do this today we should be able to do it again tomorrow.

They will never understand the joy of grabbing a few hours in the sun when the rest of our time is darkness. And I hope they never do. It’s absolutely necessary for our mental health as well as physical that now and again we simply say FURA!!

Spending time with people we love whose company delights us, and recharging our joy in living is probably the most important thing we can do for ourselves. No, it’s not easy. Yes, we’ll pay for it afterwards, often very painfully. But when you spend many days alone and hurting so bad you don’t actually want to even speak to anyone, dipping our toes for a time into positive, loving energy is truly restoring.

It’s very easy, especially on days like yesterday to focus on the dark, when someone passes so young and has the same condition you do you are frighteningly aware of your own mortality. It was coincidence that lead to this ‘sad day, happy day’ weekend, today being birthday drinks with lovely people, but it made me feel blessed.

So I believe that loss, as awful as it is, also acts as a reminder that we are still alive. And that’s so incredibly important. See that movie, kiss that boy, hug your children, visit your family, phone your friends, tell them you love them. Not in morbid fear, but in sheer joy that we live another day. Think of those we’ve lost, and rejoice that they were in our lives, celebrate how very fortunate we were to know them.

I’ve always loved this poem, it reminds me of those that have gone on, and how very wonderful it was that I had them in my life, however briefly. Namaste 💙

She is gone

You can shed tears that she is gone
or you can smile because she has lived.

You can close your eyes and pray that she’ll come back
or you can open your eyes and see all she’s left.

Your heart can be empty because you can’t see her
or you can be full of the love you shared.

You can turn your back on tomorrow and live yesterday
or you can be happy for tomorrow because of yesterday.

You can remember her and only that she’s gone
or you can cherish her memory and let it live on.

You can cry and close your mind,
be empty and turn your back
or you can do what she’d want:
smile, open your eyes, love and go on.

David Harkins, © 1981

Unbreakable Bonds

Posted on by SingleRheum

As some of you will know the reason I’ve not posted for a while is that my Mum had been poorly, and she has recently passed.  She unfortunately suffered from dementia in the last couple of years of her life, and as anyone who has been through this knows you feel you’ve lost the person you love before they’ve gone. 
I found this so hard, but tonight I have sat quietly, lit candles and drifted through memories of her long and happy life, both those I share and those I will never know. I feel she has been here with me, helping me to remember the person I love, and it has given me so much peace. So I ask you to indulge me….

I remember seeing this picture of Mum when I was a child, and wondering that she was ever this young, glamorous girl.

image

We so often don’t think of our parents as people, having lives and loves and stories that started long before us.

I’m fortunate that Mum shared some of her story, such as starting work in the London Stock Exchange when she left school, and working there for over 25 years, becoming a Gilt Edged Securities Clerk, managing three girls under her and literally processing millions of pounds.

Or her travels to Kenya as a single woman in the 1950’s, visiting her dashing older brother, a pilot first in the RAF then privately after the war. I will never forget her very matter of factly telling me how she had hidden in the back of a car for hours from hostile attack during the Mau-mau uprising, very much my Mum, always understated!

There are some lovely b/w shots somewhere of her holidaying in Jersey before she met Dad, and I would love to have known this beautiful, bright career woman.

The Mum I knew had such warmth, kindness, generosity and love. She had stopped working, but she never stopped moving. Cooking, baking, sewing, knitting, embroidery, card making… A truly creative and talented lady.

Just from my recall in Randwick where we grew up she volunteered at school doing reading and crafts, helped run and was treasurer of the playgroup, became Brown Owl for the Brownies, and was an active member and fundraiser for the Mothers Union and the Women’s Institute  – all while raising two slightly lively(!) girls.

In later years she moved to Great Bedwyn, became President of the WI for a time and was a massive support to The Bedwyns Link Scheme, an active village voluntary scheme providing cross community support locally to all who needed it for over 15 years.  Wiltshire Life presented her with a well deserved Carer of the Year award for this tireless work.

The sheer number of cards we have received, sharing memories of her and mourning her loss have been an amazing testament to the hearts she touched along the way. Nearly all of them mentioned her smile, which to the last could light up a room. 

Mum I will miss you more than words can say.  You truly were an inspiration. I learned from watching you how to be fair, how important it was to be caring and generous with others. 

Through my adult life you have been a gentle constant presence, never judging, just loving and welcoming as always. I’ve probably taken that for granted sometimes, but you have been like a light in the window that has always been there to welcome me home and make me feel loved.

I want you to know how much I love you.  It’s that simple, and that huge and that magical.  That bond is something that time and the universe can never break.

Always, your loving daughter, Denise.