Final Journey!

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I opened my eyes and stretched, it was a Saturday, not that one-day is much different from another when you’re retired, but I remembered it was a Saturday because I had a hair appointment. Maybe I’d go to the mall early and enjoy a little retail therapy. I sat up in bed and stretched again. It was a good morning, no aches and pains, no creaking bones.

I washed and donned my PJ’s. No crazy rush to get the washing done over the weekend, I was retired; I could feed the washer any day I chose. I padded down the stairs to Bob’s man cave. Even at seven o clock in the morning the television was on. Arsenal was playing, and for once it seems, they were winning! No Arsene Wenger at the helm these days.

“Bob, what do you want for Breakfast?”

No answer, he was engrossed in the game, didn’t even look up. Not unusual when he was engrossed in football.

“I’ll bring some toast and coffee down.”

I switched the coffee machine on and cut some bread. Yup, still made my own bread, neither of us liked the doughy mess the American supermarkets sold. I wasn’t hungry though so I took a tray down to the man cave and left it on the coffee table. You could at least say thank you, your team are winning for heavens sake!

I walked out onto the porch, it was a beautiful day. Sunny and warm. Bird’s song was the only sound I head. I love living out in the country. I inhaled the atmosphere. When I die, this is where I want my ashes scattering, I feel comfortable here.

No time to linger today, I have a hair appointment and shopping to do. Maybe some new sandals, we’re flying to Italy next month. Maybe I’ll have my ashes scattered on the Amalfi Coast? No, maybe not, its beautiful there, but I don’t speak Italian, I’d be lonely. Why am I thinking about where I want my ashes scattered?

I went back upstairs to the bedroom, ignoring the dishwasher that needed to be emptied. Not in the mood today, it’s a ME day and I’m going to enjoy it.

I was lost in thought, wondering what I should buy. Maybe a new sun dress too, can’t wait for the Italian sun to kiss my shoulders. I giggled as I remembered the last time we were in Italy, and getting my 65-year-old bum pinched!

I froze in the bedroom doorway. If I’d had any breath left in me I’d of gasped. There was someone lying on the bed, still as a church, it was me!

NO! NO! NO! How could this happen?

I ran downstairs to Bob; he was engrossed in the game. I tried to shake him, but he didn’t see me, didn’t feel me.

Bob! Bob! I think I’m dead!

It was useless. Slowly I went back upstairs and looked around our bedroom. It was full of memories, photos of my daughter, and paintings of Italy. I touched the cold face of the “me” that lay on the bed, hoping I’d wake up. I didn’t, so I sat next to me and waited.

***********

It was 10:30 when Bob went upstairs. Sheila normally rose around seven, but he hadn’t seen her yet. He worried she was sick.

“Hey, are you staying in bed all day? I thought you had a hair appointment.”

He saw his wife lying on the bed. She was pale and still.

            “I’m sorry Bob, you’ll have to get your own breakfast today.”

He didn’t hear of course. He wasn’t a romantic man, but he bent over his wife’s body and gave her one final kiss on her forehead. They’d been married over 50 years, he’d be lost without her.

 

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Wotunny?

Grandma!

Wotunny?

I love you Grandma!

I love you too!

Wotunny is of course “what honey?”

My mum was born and raised in the North of England, and although not quite a Geordie, she was close. I used to make fun of her accent, but I miss it so much. She’d play tirelessly with my daughter when she was a little girl. They’d sit in their make-believe airplane (under the table) and pretend they were flying to Barbados. My mum was in her eighties at the time. It couldn’t have been comfortable sitting on the floor. She didn’t have much padding on her bones as she got older. I’d prepare dinner and smile as I listened to them talk.

Grandma!

Wotunny?

I love you!

I love you too pet!

Miss you mum!

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Aging the Write Way

Growing old

As I went to put the carton of milk in the oven this morning, and the croissants in the fridge to warm, I thought about my mum and laughed. Yes, I’ve become her. I used to make fun of her all of the time for doing these things. When I was in my teens and twenties, I thought I’d be young forever. Little did I know how quickly those years would pass. Old age creeps up quickly. Everyone seems to be younger than me now. I’m not quite sixty yet, but very close.

Nothing can slow down aging, its part of life, but life doesn’t have to slow down because of it. I’ve been writing since I was eleven or twelve. My head is full of stories.  Every single day is an adventure to me. The older I get, the more important, its become to share my adventures. Some will make you laugh, others, well you’ll think I’m crazy. There’s one thing for sure, I’m not going to keep them locked in my brain until I die, I’m aging the write way!

 

Dead of July is the my first novel. I published it 2013. It took a couple of years to write, and another year to edit and perfect. Give it a try. Its based on real events that happened to me when I was in my early twenties. 

Love is stronger than Hatred and Bigotry – Lets Heal the World

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The past few weeks have been a dreadful mixture of hate and bitterness. Glorified by the media it’s escalated beyond control When a child is born, it knows only love. We were all children once. Lets look inside ourselves and remember our childhood. Bring back the love and tolerance and cast aside the hate and bigotry.

Together we can Heal the World

 

Sunny Sunday!

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Bitter cold, but beautifully bright.

HEAL THE WORLD! LETS GIVE IT A TRY…

Stepfather – a Father’s Day Wish to You!

Looking up to you Dad, and hope you’re looking down on me with that funny smile on your upside down lips!

Your took on a teenager when you married my mum. A teenager who’d never known a father. You were an impostor in my eyes. The more you tried to make me like you, the more I rebelled. You never gave up though!

You’ve been gone a long time, and my mum is with you now.

I hope you’re both happy, I miss you. Dad, I loved you all the time, I was just too rebellious to show it!

My Stepfather with my daughter - Happy Fathers Day. I do miss you!

My Stepfather with my daughter – Happy Fathers Day. I do miss you!

Going Home!

Ok so I’m British. Well actually I was British until I became an American Citizen just over 10 years ago, but every time I step off a plane onto Italian soil, I feel like I’m home. My next trip to Italy is coming up soon, and this time I will stay for three weeks. Who knows, I may never leave!

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Happy Mothers Day Mam – I know you’re watching over me.

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A very long time ago, but really only yesterday, I was a child,

You watched over me mam,

I was a teenage rebel, if there was trouble, I found it,

But you watched over me mam.

You raised me single-handedly when you fled the violent man who hurt you,

You watched over me mam,

You found a good man to love us both, we survived, and thrived,

You watched over me mam.

And now I live in a different country, far away, with a family of my own, and a grown up daughter,

I watch over her mam,

There’s a chair on my porch, and I sit there and talk to you, I know you hear me,

Because you’re still watching over me mam.

Happy Mothers Day – I love you. You’re in heaven now, but I don’t miss you because you’re here watching over me Mam!

Dance like there’s no tomorrow!

I was in my mid twenties and a young wife. My husband was in the British Army and we lived in Dorset, far away from my parents, who lived in North Yorkshire. We always travelled home for Christmas, which made my mum extremely happy, but I didn’t realize how happy….until I saw her dance. It was Christmas day, and she was in the kitchen preparing the Christmas Feast. The radio was on and she didn’t hear me open the door. I’ll never ever forget the look of sheer happiness on her face as she danced to a tune I can’t remember. She twirled around the small kitchen, rocking to the beat of the song that played on the radio.

As I think about it now, it makes me emotional. My mum was 65 at the time, but danced like a teenager. She was embarrassed when she saw me watching, but it’s a site I will never forget. I miss you mum.

I wish I had a photo to share, but all I have are memories.

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