“Welcome to my home on the internet!”
Colours of Life.
A plethora of colours play a dancing scene in my mind.
Prisms of light and dark are the colours of my life.
Dark shadows of dripping sadness,
bright colours of joy!
Heaping together as a jewelled kaleidoscope,
reflections of coloured glass, turning and varied like the
rotation of life.
The greens and magentas of brilliant aniline dyes
fill the spaces of my memory, delectable,
delightful and pleasant.
Mauves and purples weep and push for space but fail now.
They do not enter, I will not facilitate them.
Calmness drips upon me like a patina on the surface of old bronze.
Peace, in soft cream voile, fills my days.
Life is the colour in my mind, as
sunburst orange vying for space, risible;
forming luscious opulent delicious pictures
of passion and joy.
Burnished gold, soft cashmere green
bring new physical energy and vigour.
These are the colours of my life now
mixed with gentle blues of calmer mellow days
These are the colours of my life…
*The kaleidoscope was invented in the early 1800’s by Sir David Brewster as a form of art. Since the Victorian era people have been enjoying them by collecting large quantities and as a toy for children.
Copyright 2011.
October BBQ.
Music drifting in modern sounds
clinking glasses as wine was found,
laughter filled the balmy air
the girls looked pretty sitting there.
Delicious smells in smoky night
candles shimmered in dimming light.
Roasted lamb with chopped mint leaves
sweet green salad with feta cheese.
Crispy chicken with succulent sauce
happy faces but of course!
Barbecuing with such flair.
I almost saw you standing there…
“I recall this time”- Carers Support Article.
As this month embraces Autumn I recall the September of last year and the wretched struggles of that time. I suppose in retrospect this backward view, this sorrowful indulgence, is something that those bereaved need to do. A kind of summing up as you approach the first anniversary without your special person. It is not maudlin or mawkishly sentimental, far from it. It is for me necessary for shall we say, the organization of the mind.
In the early months of loss, when so numb the years of caring seemed like a bad dream. I could not breathe without pain through the sorrow and I would have turned back the pages of the book to have him back with me in an instant. Of course never to see again the horrors of this disease or the damage it inflicted on this gentle wise man or for him to suffer on and on but just to hear his voice calling my name or to see his eyes light up when I entered his room.
I was not the only one amongst our friends to suffer loss that year. MM took many of our newly made friends in 2010. Friends made at the hospital, diagnosed at the same time and internet friends made out of a need to follow together as Carers. We used our common knowledge, clung together in an effort to help, support and glean information fr0m each other when we could. We became a strong body and positive in our efforts to champion, protect and help.
For the first few months of MM although I clearly knew the facts but because of our strong love, I believed we could beat this disease and although I saw and knew well the terrible changes overcoming Hamada, I continued with hope until the end.It goes without saying that this period of my life, the immense shock at diagnosis, the daily struggles, doing my best to help was and has been without doubt the most difficult period of my life but we made it to the end with peace and dignity and you will too my dear friends, the many of you who are still fighting for your love ones. Obtaining the best care you can for them and guiding them daily, to achieve a good quality of life from this a most difficult disease and the saddest period of your life.
Together with love and tenderness these days become supremely special and will stay eternally in your memory. It’s really all we ever want is it not, to be loved and well cared for in our final hours.
As Hamada’s first anniversary approaches, I have decided not to write here again about his ‘journey’ unless asked for advice or information regarding caring with Multiple Myeloma. I hope to move on to other subjects but I will of course follow my friends blogs, checking in on them from time to time to see how they are doing.
I think my dear one should be allowed to rest in peace now. My intentions are to take time to get on with the years left to me. To enjoy each God given day to the best of my ability and to embrace new joys that have presented themselves. It would after all be just what Hamada would have wanted.
*“There comes a time to remind yourself of your reasons for living. You have a future worth enduring and you deserve to find a renewed sense of purpose and pleasure in your lifeâ€
*From Grief Therapy by Karen Katafiasz.
It Is Right And Fitting.
In this peaceful part of the world my beloved lies amongst friends. Under the twinkling night stars of this beautiful small village and during the day nestled in this tranquil setting and in the sight of God is his final resting place. It is right and fitting. Amen.
* The Ankh cross also known as crux anasta is the ancient Egyptian hieroglyph meaning life. The loop part having neither beginning nor end, so representing the eternal soul.
* See ‘A Difficult Task’ shown below.
A Different Egypt.
Having just returned from an excellent holiday in Sharm El Sheikh Egypt, I could not help but compare how different it was from the Egypt I have known over the years. Modern Sharm which sits at the bottom of the Sinai Peninsula where the stunning dramatic rugged desert meets the crystal clear Red Sea is mighty impressive. It has an international reputation as an extraordinary diving destination, with clear crystal seas jam packed with amazing delights of the many different species of coral and stunning fish.
This small fishing village has changed in a few short years to a bustling holiday destination packed with modern hotels all with the luxuries of modern day living. Diving centres, yacht charters, desert safaris, quad biking, casinos and discos are all there ready for the tourists delight.
Sharm El Sheikh, this cosmopolitan capital of Sinai is heralded as a city of peace even in these troubled times.
Our hotel of choice (there are many) was set in an oasis of peaceful grounds filled with pink, white and deep red bougainvillaea, oleander cactus and many palms. The gardens well established and beautifully tended by a dedicated team of gardeners. Such a massive feat in this blazing heat!
Naama Bay is the heart of Sharm and is a cornucopia of the most amazing energy ever set in one place. Souks and shops selling all manner of things from fake watches to jade beads and spices via together for a little business, the owners pleading for you to spend your time visiting their emporiums.
The tremendous bustle and noise coming from the restaurants, bars, ‘shisha’ cafes, clubs and discos seem a desperate call for contrived enjoyment, somewhat different from the old alleys of Cairo and Alexandria that I know so well. The town of Naama Bay is filled with local crafts and tourist souvenirs and it had to be different. This is a modern place, the first Hotel in Sharm as new as the 80’s. It could not be the same for me of course as this was also the first time travelling to Egypt without my ‘Egyptian Pharaoh’. Stirring such memories of past joys, although I often felt his hand in mine and words of his often reached my ears. This was a unique and different time. I loved the Old Market of Sharm with its winding streets of the old town. Where I once again practised my haggling skills trying to remember not very successfully, all that Hamada had taught me of this unique skill much loved by the traders. Both my sons doing so much better at this than me. I loved the carpets laid ready for the serving of mint tea in traditional manner, the Bedouin coffee shops all such a reminder of days gone by with my love.
I adored the luxury of our hotel set in the most beautiful green and flowering gardens with six wonderful swimming pools to choose from. Indeed it was as hot as hell! August certainly not a time to take small children I feel, but the luxury suites, efficient air conditioning, hour long massages, ice cold cloths to cool us at midday and great food for even the most discerning palate made up for that.
I loved the luxury of the Sinai Casino now the biggest casino in the whole of the Middle East which again reminded me of exciting times spent in Cairo with Hamada. This time spending such a fun time with my two sons playing roulette for the first time and all of us sensibly coming away with winnings.
The amazing sun and heat of everyday. The outstanding sunsets over the Sinai mountains, that fall amongst the most breath taking foreground I have ever seen.
I loved as always the smell and taste of this unique land, the sepia colour of night fall and the gentle smiling people of this beautiful part of the world and although a very different Egypt from Cairo or Alexandria to me. It was still an ultimate experience with my wonderful family who were just the very best travelling companions and made my holiday quite perfect with their loving care. Yes for sure, it was for me, a sensual memory of my beloved Hamada and a time I will always remember.
A Certain Solace.
Withdraw and surrender
or restore and live?
Painfully utter or sing joyously aloud.
Or impair fatally to ruin
all that comes to you.
The choice is yours.
Enhance the beauty of your life like a twilight cirrus streaked sky.
Illuminate your life in daily joys.
For joys there are!
Live an anguished life in mask of grief?
Or find solace in this diorama of
changing colour and direction.
Sink or swim?
Renounce, abandon,
or repair and mend?
The choice is yours.
Enter that empty void of senselessness?
Or find that certain solace.
Swim to the top, swim to the top,
do not succumb to misery.
Lift yourself from daily pain.
Fight against this hanging pendent of rage
you wear so well.
Leave behind that ache
as heavy as a dying bloom.
Live your life…
And find that certain solace.
Poem inspired by a comment from Lileng.
Photo courtesy of Ellie Robson.
Copyright 2011 Susie Hemingway.
.
A Difficult Task.
What will it say in years to come? What will it tell the folks who pass by and glance, reading the words I’ve chosen. How I wanted to tell a story on this tablet of stone. How I wanted to place so many words. Words that would have filled this oblong of granite. Something much more, about the special man who rests here.
The rules are strict for the Diocese of Lincoln: Monuments should be of natural stone (with no reflecting finish) and a list of recommended stones is given to help with choice. The stone must not be polished, nor finished in any way to give the effect of polished stone. I agree with all this, keeping the beauty of this peaceful resting place is so important and garish shiny headstones would look out of keeping, here amongst the grey.
Inscriptions should be simple, reverent and with an appropriate epitaph but how difficult in a few words, when I wanted to say so much about the wise, kind and caring man who lies here.
I could have added angels to keep you company, or lilies in ornate decorative splendour carved across the stone. I could have added copious words in gilt, flowery sentiments of love. I wanted to say so much. For in my heart I desired the biggest and the most elaborate memorial stone of them all. A pharaohs tomb. For in my world you were the very best of them all.
Instead I knew you would not have liked that. For you were most humble, for you were too elegant for showy symbols. You would have wished to mingle unnoticed amongst the others, although you never went unnoticed.
Just a simple plain stone you said, like most of the others in this quiet lovely place of rest. Just my name you said, I will be proud to rest here you told me.
Keep it simple, keep it simple echoed in my ears but my heart wanted so much more, as I stood before the selection of traditional stones. Let it be elegant for this most elegant of men.
I made my choice, only once biting the inside of my mouth to stem the tears as I realized this would be the last task I would perform for dear Hamada.
So we shall see in early September when we stand together once again to honour this beloved man. I believe I’ve chosen the simple words well. Hamada would be pleased.
It is right and fitting.
Growing Strong.
Breathe in breathe out shattered heart.
Lay waste to no one,
find your way.
Do not shelter in that room.
Do not shiver, when those feelings loom.
Shine for him, shine for him…
Breathe in breathe out shattered heart.
Ignore those salty tears
that fall uninvited.
Find your way from pining.
Climb from deep despair.
Come,
shine for him.
Do not shudder heart but
dance and sing!
Push back that island of loneliness
Accept,
survive.
Accept
and survive.
All Rights Reserved 2011
“Longings” by Susie Hemingway.
I long again to hear that voice,
those cultured tones of dusky nights,
of “21 club†words whispered low
in shining gleaming bar of old.
When smiles mixed as glasses clink,
murmured soft and almost heard,
those sweet and soothing dulcet tones
of love and you.
The air was filled with mixing scents
of girl’s falsetto voices shrill, who masquerade
their dramatic wears, expensive perfumes
and fancy hair.
I leaned to hear that velvet sound, from sweet
breath of love, disturbing senses found.
That time and you…
The Handsome men with eyes that glittered
tanned in Armani, shirts of fine linen.
Their Rolex vying and hanging loose
as popping corks and bitter vermouth,
in smoky music fun filled air.
The thrill…the pace…
that time in Harry Meadow’s place!
We danced as morning light appeared
your words enticing and with much care
I remember every word you said,
those sweet and soothing dulcet tones
Of love and you… Longings…
Longings: – from the ‘box of secrets’ @ seven months.
For Lora:
The handsome face with the special smile.
All Rights Reserved: