The love of Grandparents

Saturday 1471 – 19th May 2012

Last Saturday I wrote about the trip I took up to Kew Gardens. I had a great day really enjoying myself amongst all that flora… nothing like losing yourself with a bit of nature. What I had forgotten to mention was that there was a glorious bluebell area and I could smell the bluebells. Yes I did say SMELL the bluebells. Now unless you have been following this blog for a while you won’t have the faintest idea why that is so great but as I wrote about here  I haven’t had any sense of smell for many ,many months. I am very pleased to be able to say there is now some improvement and some days I am able to smell if the smell is quite powerful

However I think I rather overdid it ( NO ! not the smelling !) as I was exhausted and felt very flat the next day but I have to say that my photography and keeping my 2 blogs going has been good therapy for me. It’s given me something to focus my energy on and I can become completely absorbed in it. A wonderful escape from stresses and strains. Actually is that really a good or a bad thing? I wonder…

Back to this Saturday. Well I spent it sort of hanging about really.  It’s been a very difficult week all round.  Late on Monday I discovered that my mum was in hospital ( the hospital is 4 hrs drive from me and I haven’t been to see her yet) On Tuesday I had an electrician and double glazing workman in the house  and later in the day heard that my late ex-husbands mother had died at the age of 96. I’ll come back to this a bit later.

Again as some of you will know if you’ve been following my blog I’ve been off work with stress related illness ( I wrote about it here ) and on Tuesday morning I had visited my GP because I didn’t feel as though I was improving. She prescribed some meds ( I had been resisting) which of course made me a bit drowsy for a few days which is why I haven’t seen my mum yet. Then on Thursday 2 more workmen arrived to refit my bathroom, put new floor in, tile etc.. They are still here. Great workers and very friendly but you know how it is, your home no longer feels like your own.. in and out, in and out they go and it’s bloomin cold here still, even though it is mid May.. but I am glad to be getting it done.. I bought all the materials in the January sales of 2011 !!! so it’s about time.

Anyway later when the workmen were gone I packed up a few things because I’m going to visit my mum tomorrow and will stay overnight in a B&B so that I can see her on Monday too and talk to the Consultant. As any of you who are single will know it is VERY expensive to go and stay in a hotel or B&B.  Single supplements…. grrrrrrr.

Enough of all that and back to my ex mother-in-law Jane or Jennie as she was known and her husband Jim.

Here’s an old photo of  them both ( Jim also lived to 96) taken many years ago and scanned in  – it seems to be the only one of the 2 of them that I have on the computer and I think it was taken by my daughter on her little camera.  I’m sure I have better photos of them somewhere but not on the computer and anyway this is really how they were.

Jim and Jennie were the salt of the earth type of people, hard working farmers and deeply religious ( we didn’t see eye to eye on that one)  They had a very happy marriage indeed and I wanted to  pay my little tribute to them because they were the best grandparents children could ever hope to have.

Jim was always funny and came with a sweet or 2 in his pocket; Jennie was always there with a kiss and a squeeze for them. They both loved my 2 to bits and of course they had their faults but who doesn’t ?  They were very well-known in the little Irish village where they lived and surrounding area especially Jim who ,as I experienced when I first met him, would always give you the Irish version of the Spanish Inquisition. He knew everything about everybody but there was no malice in him. he was just naturally nosey!!

It feels like the end of an era and hard for my 2 as they had to go back to Ireland for the funeral which was held yesterday. I had been separated from their father since 2000 and it would not have been appropriate for me to go but the reports I had back from my friends, who also attended, was that they carried themselves with great dignity with my daughter speaking at the funeral. I’m even more proud of them than I usually am, particularly because over the last  5 years they have lost first their grandfather followed soon after by their father, an only child,  and now their grandmother.  Not easy for them and they have coped remarkably well ; being the very best of friends has really helped them. 

Just before I go I’d like to show you another photo  which shows my son aged 4 on the morning of his first school day. It’s always been a favourite of mine even though again the quality is not good and it shows how untidy the house was! . I think you can see that Jim has a mischievous smile.

He certainly managed to retain a  childlike quality. 

Have  you ?

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Saturday girl signing off .. see you next week. 

P.s. If you don’t already know I also have a daily photography blog called Helen’s Photomania which you can find here I hope you’ll pop over and take a look

It’s a Big Issue

Saturday 1486 – 4th February 2012

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I know this is longer than my normal Saturday posts but I hope you’ll stick with it. It’s based on a real life story.  Thanks

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A real love story…

Hello my name’s John, I’m 42 and I’ve just got married to the love of my life. I know you might be thinking there’s nothing unusual in that but my story is a bit more unusual than most and if you’ve got time to hear it I’d like to share it with you.

You see the love of my life is very seriously ill and I am taking care of her. I knew she was ill when I married her and that was part of the reason why I did. I’m paying her back for changing her life completely to be with me and pulling me back from a life without love which was certain to end even more badly than it began.

But I’ve moved on too fast so let me go back.  

I was brought up in a children’s home, I guess because my parents didn’t want me, although I never really knew why. At 13 I was given heroin by some of the older boys and never had a choice about whether I took it or not; you took it or you got the hell beaten out of you. That’s the way it was.  

Anyway I liked it.

 I didn’t know what love was then and can’t remember ever feeling wanted by anyone, so heroin took me to a place that was warm and wonderful; an escape from horrible reality.  I didn’t get addicted right away though and at the time I didn’t even know you could. I was truly an innocent.

Anyway I expect you can guess what happened next. Once I was addicted I soon started to steal, got caught of course and eventually sent to prison and then quickly spiralled into homelessness. Children’s homes and prison don’t exactly prepare you for the real world so I never felt I would be able to manage keeping track of paying rent and that sort of thing.

There was something very freeing about living on the streets. No responsibility and no-one to answer to after a life of always having someone else in control.

I was pretty much dead inside and wouldn’t know an emotion if it punched me in the face. In fact when I was punched in the face (this happened a few times ) I didn’t really feel that either; the heroin took care of stopping feelings.

Apart from my dog who provided warmth, companionship and some protection, I lived alone on the streets for the best part of 19 years; except for a couple of years in prison in-between. I lived from begging, stealing and helping myself to things from skips and rubbish bins until 5 years ago I met Barbie.

Her real name is Barbara and I have no idea now why I started to call her Barbie because she’s nothing like the doll!  Anyway Barbie was working in the supermarket that I used to stand outside,  asking people who came out if they could spare me some change.

Barbie came out one day, gave me a cup of coffee and a sandwich and actually talked to me.  This is a pretty rare occurrence when you are living on the streets with most people just walking past you as though they don’t even see you;  sometimes even crossing the road to avoid you.  I expect you’ve done that?  You become invisible unless the police want to move you on or someone wants to take out their anger on you and kick you about a bit.

She came out most days after that and gave me food. She was wonderfully funny ( still is!) and so kind. About a year after we met she gave up her room in a rented house to live on the streets with me and my dog.

Most of you will find this strange and I do myself now when I look back at that time, but we were in love or at least she was in love with me.  I was still taking heroin so feelings only rarely managed to get through the drug’s control but I knew I cared about someone for the first time in my life. I sold The Big Issue because I wanted us to eat better and didn’t want to keep stealing and begging. Despite the lack of feelings I knew I was happier than I’d ever been until Barbie became ill 2 years ago, not because she was on the streets though, this was a serious unavoidable illness which threatens her life but probably saved mine.

I knew we couldn’t continue to live on the streets and with a struggle we managed to get housed by the council, on account of Barbie’s illness, and I started a methadone course which I’m gradually weaning off now.

It’s been very, very hard to adjust to settled life and even harder to experience emotion but I’m determined to succeed. I’m determined because just as I had no choice about whether I took heroin or not at the age of 13 I feel ( yes I feel !) that I have no choice but to be capable of caring for my wife Barbie because I love her so much; an emotion I am glad to be able to feel. As each human being does ,she deserves to be cared for when she needs it the most.

I’m telling you this story because I want you to know that few people set out in life to deliberately become junkies, alcoholics or homeless. It could happen to you or someone you know so try not to judge too harshly.

I’m hoping the next time you see someone begging on the streets or selling the Big Issue you’ll stop for a moment and say hello or smile at them even if you don’t give them money or buy the magazine. Just treating them like a fellow human being and acknowledging they’re there makes such a difference.

Thanks for taking the time to listen to me and wish me luck.

John.

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John and Barbara are not the real names of the people involved and the photo of the Big issue seller is not a photo of John but the story, though a little fictionalised, is based on someone’s real life.

Thanks for reading.

If you want to know more about the Big Issue you can do that here

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You can see my photography blog Photomania here