Tag: love

Losing Mum

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My mum died on Sunday 26th October at 23.00. The death certificate states she died the next day as the doctor took a while to get to her, he said he was sorry for our loss but he was busy.

I feel like I’m walking around in a different season or maybe in a different world completely at the moment. It’s not the same here without my mum, but nobody seems to know that, life goes on just like it did the day before she died. Everybody is moving far too quickly and I can’t seem to keep up, time is running away with itself while I am standing still. Life for me at the moment is like watching a movie, I can see what is going on but I’m not really in on the act, I’m sure the credits will roll at some point.

I have thrown myself into being busy, too busy to think, too busy to face anything I can’t face right now. I’m cleaning out mum’s flat with my sister, I’m sorting our mum’s stuff like it belongs to a stranger. There are moments when I pick up some clothes, a jacket or cardigan, and sniff at the collar like a dog looking for a scent. I want to breathe in her smell and feel safe within it again, I close my eyes and imagine she is there with me. But the moment passes and I continue sorting the junk from the jewels.

We stayed those final days in the hospital with mum, the doctor called for the family although we had been there every day. I sat on a chair at the end of her bed and watched her sleep. Those last few days she slept a lot, she was preparing herself for the journey ahead. The day before mum died, she said to the nurse she wanted to press a button and be dead. She had fought the cruel disease for eleven years until the day she wanted to die. Minutes before mum died I prayed for her, I prayed the suffering would end and she would pass over easily. I moved a bottle of spring water that was blocking my view of her lovely face, she told me off for disturbing her. I remember thinking to myself that she never told me off, we couldn’t really do anything wrong in our mum’s eyes.

We called for a nurse as mum needed her morphine injection. It didn’t help this time, she needed something much stronger to help. When the nurse went to get it mum started to pass over. It took minutes, but time stood still, minutes turned into something much longer as we watched our mum die. We tried to help her to go without us, we told her to go and that we would be okay. We told her we loved her and thanked her for being our mum. We were trying to tell her how much we loved her, we didn’t want her to go missing anything, we didn’t want her to forget. She knew we loved her, we didn’t have to say but we both needed to, we wanted to say it for the last time. I have worried since that I was on her deaf side and maybe she couldn’t hear me.

I don’t know the actual moment mum went and if some of those last drawn out breaths were just the body doing what it had done for so long. Were the lungs just responding as they always had while the blood slowed down on its final journey around her body. I don’t even know how she died, was it the lungs or her heart that finally gave up?

I’m not sure what happened right then, my body shook uncontrollably and I couldn’t stop my arms and legs from moving. My sister wanted to help me but also wanted to stay with mum. I didn’t want to be selfish, I just couldn’t help myself. My son said afterwards it sounded like a response to the shock. I’m not sure why I was shocked, I was expecting mum to die, I had prayed for her to be out of pain but I just couldn’t cope with the reality of it actually happening. Losing the one person who had loved me from the very moment I was born.

We stayed with mum for a while, she looked beautiful, she was always beautiful. The lines and the constant daily pain faded from her face and she looked at peace at last. We knew she wasn’t really there anymore, the body was just a vehicle but how we had loved that body, we had both lived in that body for a while. I told the nurses that my sister and I would clean and dress mum, but my sister told me I wouldn’t manage it, she told me to go. I sat in the family lounge while my sister got mum’s body ready for the morgue, she called my mobile to ask what mum should wear . I remember looking up the train times on my phone while I waited.

Three weeks later now and I haven’t cried properly yet, I’m frozen. I think I have put up a wall to protect myself, as I just can’t deal with the reality of mum dying, I can’t cope with it. I understand trauma a little and know this is just my body looking after my mind but I want my mind back. No, that’s not right, I’m in denial and what I really want is my mum back.

Treasure in a coffin.

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A coffin would usually measure about 84 inches in length and be 28 inches wide so with you inside it, however slender you are, there won’t be an awful lot of room for treasure.

The word coffin derives from the old French word cofin, meaning basket or cradle. It seams funny and a little strange to me that we arrive and leave in the same vehicles. I’m wondering if it because each time we travel we are being born in one place and saying goodbye to another.

Although any box used for the dead is a coffin, the word casket is also widely used. It’s interesting that a casket was originally a box for jewelry. I think perhaps we are the jewels in this case and our value is measured by our deeds on earth.

I think what I’m getting at here, you have to stay with me, as I write to formulate my thoughts. Anyway what I’m saying is that we can’t really take anything with us, it will not stay along for the ride. We won’t wake up in the hereafter with the wealth we have amassed on earth any more than a baby is born with a healthy bank account and pots of gold.

So why do we spend our lives building our individual empires, with dreams of wealth being some of the most prominent. Why do we pray for a lottery win over health and happiness and why do we find it so hard to let go of material possessions when there will come a day we have no other option.

I’m as guilty as the rest, I’m a magpie, and I like beautiful things around me. I like things to shine, I polish taps and shine sinks. I bought my car as the tan leather seats went with my handbags. I weigh more on the bathroom scales than I actually should, because of the silver jewelry I never take off. I’m working on this and I will continue working, as I know the treasures we have on earth are nothing more than fool’s gold.

If we could only see each other by looking at the beauty of each individual soul without the material possessions or lack of possessions. I think we would see a completely different picture. We would truly see each other for who we really are by what we give out and not be swayed by falseness. I wonder what colours I give out, I hope they say something good about me.

Lately I have being seeing the natural beauty in nature, the flowers and the colours, the sounds and the smells. This is new for me, I’m a town girl and always busy and on the go. I’m giving myself more time now, I have slowed down, I’m watching and waiting.

I am wealthy in friends and loved ones, I have beautiful people around me but I won’t be taking them with me, nor would they want to come. I know I will die with the people I love around me but that will be as far as they go. I travel alone and the only treasure I want with me is the love of those I hold dear. I know with all certainty that the only treasures I will count as I leave this place are the people I love.

I’m thinking about this today and I’m going to keep thinking about it because I don’t want to forget. The wealth I have now and any wealth I have in the future will be measured in any kindness and love I’m able to give out. The treasure I will take with me will be those memories and achievements. I think they will fit as they will be sewn into my spirit and travel with me.

What will you fit in your coffin with you when they carry you out of this lifetime?

Bluebell Woods

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It’s beautiful here in the woods, just like I remember. I’m walking along the path through the trees. I have to watch for the bumps in the path where the roots of the trees are lifting the earth, but it’s just wonderful. I feel privileged to be here in this very special place. If I look ahead I can see the light shining at the end of the trees, it’s probably where the sunlight hits the earth but it looks almost mystical from here where I stand.

Bluebells cover the ground all around for as far as I can see, a carpet of purple and blue. To my left I see a couple of figures collecting the flowers, when I look closer I realise I know them, I am the child, the other person my grandmother. I remember how happy the child is, how happy they both are, how special that day was. I have stored it perfectly in my memory all these years to return and visit it again today. I hear my other self giggle and wonder where that childhood innocence went. I believe today I must have reclaimed it as I managed to get here even if only in my sleep.

The trees that line the path bend gently in the breeze as if to greet me, leaves cover the path around the roots of the trees. Although discarded now at the end of their days they are still part of the trees that bore them and still remain part of the scene. They will eventually rot and feed the trees through the earth, the cycle of life.

I walk away from the couple, away from myself and away from the path to the left of the scene, towards what looks like a gentle hue in the distance. Where, it would seem, the sunlight has not discovered yet today. It looks peaceful and magical. There is a mist above the bluebells like early dawn and if I look really close I can see tiny specks like shimmering dust. I sit in this place for a while, I feel protected and safe, I think about my life.

I know I’m dreaming but also know I’m in control, I can create here, I can direct the outcome. I consider going over to the child and helping her collect bluebells, tell her she will remember the day forever. I could advise her on her future, tell her the pitfalls out there for her but I won’t because she needs to learn for herself, like me. I just watch contentedly, as she lives her special day, from the background.

I know I can’t stay but it feels so good to be here, I must go but I want to keep something from today. I look down to the floor of the woods to see what I can find, a stone catches my eye nestled in the soft grass. I pick it up and hold it in the centre of my palm to have a good look. The stone is green and it shimmers slightly, if I look closely it seems I can see inside, there are patterns beneath the surface that tell a story. I will take the stone home to remember my journey here. I slip it into my pocket, take one last look at the child with her grandmother and close my eyes.

I’m back in my bedroom, the birds are whistling in the sunshine and I can hear the engine of the school bus in the distance. It draws closer and stops outside to let my daughter off. She runs up the path with her arms behind her back, hiding something. When she reaches the porch where I’m waiting to greet her she produces a bunch of bluebells she has collected today on a nature walk. I hold her tight for a moment and kiss her tiny face in gratitude. We go into the house together to put the flowers in water. We put them on display on the window ledge, just next to the shiny green stone.

Love

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I’m trying to work out love, what love is and how it feels. I want to describe it in its real sense. I want to be able to recognise the feeling of love in written words, I want to know love so that I can share love.

I think I love, I know I love but it is so very hard to put the feeling into words.

I know that love is unconditional in as much as you don’t require anything back. You are happy to give love, happiness and joy without needing anything for yourself. What you get back is what you give yourself through the actions of giving your love, giving of yourself, as to give love out fills you up with renewed love inside. I’m sure that makes no sense, probably as it has taken me so long to get here myself. I have only just started to think about what love means although I think I have been practicing love for a lifetime.

Most of my life I think I may have measured love by what you got back, or how it has been reciprocated. That’s not to say I’m not kind, but confused for a while. My mum does not agree with this, we have argued over it, but she loves me.

I don’t think you can be lonely when you love, because to love is to link into another being or cause with your whole soul. When you connect in that way you are not alone in spirit even if you are in a physical sense. I’m not alone even when I am, in fact I just don’t like having too many people around me now, I enjoy myself, I like me. It takes so long to reach this place, but when you’re here you wonder why you didn’t arrive earlier.

I think love must be connected to the stomach in some way, I know the heart usually represents love but I just don’t feel it there, I feel it in my stomach. I have tried to feel love in my heart, maybe if told to open my heart but it just feels empty. I think my heart might be in my stomach or maybe I have got love wrong. I feel the people I love in my stomach, it’s a warmth when I think about them or I’m happy for them and if I’m worried my stomach constricts and feels hollow. I wonder if there is a connection with overeating in the world, filling the gap with food instead of love, not recognizing the feeling of love. I can see, if I think of it in this way, why it would be terribly easy to love food, no wonder diets don’t work.

Infatuation, falling in love is so much easier to describe. The butterflies in the pit of your stomach, the beat of your heart, the sexual fulfillment, quickness of breath and those wistful dreams. But that is not the love I’m talking about here, I’m trying to describe the deep love we feel for another that is not reliant on our own fulfillment.

If I could describe love in a picture I would draw a circle.

The Development Circle

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She found it really hard to close her mind to the outside world and just be in the moment. There was a shopping list running through her mind and she could see herself walking down the isle of the grocery store. She found these guided meditations really hard to stick at, it was terribly difficult to let go of life or was it just too frightening. She pulled herself back from the supermarket, lifting her gaze to look round the circle. There were seven of them in total, the others appearing to be at peace and following the guidance of the leader. Okay, where was she supposed to be, could she see the blue light in the circle, maybe if she turned it into tiny drops of water she could just see it.

Who was that outside in the hallway, maybe a latecomer but surely the door was locked. She brought her mind back to the group and mentally put the noise in the hallway into her invisible shopping bag along with the groceries. The medium leading the group was telling them to put the people they loved into the healing light in the centre. This bit was easier, there was her mum dancing without oxygen a big smile on her face and her eyes reflecting the blue of the room. Her dad smiling and waving his arms about showing jazz hands, and her nephew with his school bag dancing around them both. There was Kerry looking at peace, a smile on her face without the usual signs of childhood trauma, just looking happy. Jenny and Moira stood peacefully at the edge also watching the happiness of those still living. She put all her might into seeing these people and sending them the love and healing they needed.

It was time for the loved ones to leave and for her to step into the circle and receive healing herself, ask spirit for whatever she needed. She saw herself there, she made herself a little younger, slimmer and her hair just right and yes she was smiling. What did she need, maybe guidance, she asked spirit for direction, to help her find her path and stop jumping about in her life, she so needed to find her life purpose. She was alone in the circle even though all the members of the group were supposed to be with her. She looked up to the light and sent a prayer for help putting all her love into the request.

The door opened and a man walked into the room to join the group. From the centre of the circle she watched as he crossed the room and put his coat across a chair. She wondered what the medium would say about his late arrival but casting her eyes in that direction it appeared she didn’t mind.   The man smiled over at her and put a book down on her chair. It was green with gold leaf writing on the cover but from here she couldn’t read the words.

‘Okay when you are ready bring yourself back to the group’

She took a couple of breaths and slowly opened her eyes looking around the group. The man had gone of course, he was only in her imagination but his smile remained warming her inside. Sarah, the medium, asked how everyone felt and if anyone wanted to say anything. She smiled but didn’t want to tell the group about the man in her dream so remained silent.

It was a good evening at the development circle, they usually all had fun together. They practiced a couple of psychic exercises, some tarot and aura reading before closing the group and heading to the pub.

Saying goodnight to each other later that night, Sarah told her to think about the words on the book cover. She was amazed and asked Sarah if she had seen the man with the book. Sarah shook her head and said ‘I just know about the book, not everything but I know you will write one, you just need to see the title’.

Flat for Sale

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Jack, the guy from the estate agents, said there would be no problem selling my flat. In fact he had people on his books that already wanted to view it, they were interested in my flat right now. He wanted to know what he could do to stop the other estate agents coming to give a valuation, when he could sell it today.

My home really is wonderful, I have always loved this place. I don’t really want to go but circumstances now mean I must. An upstairs flat doesn’t work anymore, I need to be downstairs now and that will mean leaving Brighton. It makes me sad to leave but I’m happy to have been here.

Jack walked around my flat with his pad and measuring tool and I accompanied him. The main room he said was great, good size and well presented. I wanted to tell him about the parties, the music and dancing that had taken place over the years. How we have laughed till we cried on many occasion in that room. How wooden spoons make fantastic microphones and in here anyone can sing. I thought he should know that I have cooked for and fed the people I love in the main room. My lounge has been checked into a few times on facebook and the food and atmosphere are said to be amazing. I didn’t share this with Jack but I do think it adds to the value.

Lovely big windows, lots of light he said. Yes, I thought, the sun streams in lighting up the room and everyone in here; it is always summer in this room. There is nothing I like better than sitting by those windows in the morning with my coffee; it is where I like to think. The flowers in the window box lean into the room to join me and bring summer indoors.

The bedroom is a good size, huge window. I didn’t mention to Jack that I lie in bed looking up at the sky every day. I set the alarm early, just to lie there. I can’t just jump out of bed, not when I have to plan the day while I’m looking up at the big blue sky from that window. At night I count the stars that shine over the city from the window and the light it lets in casts comfortable and safe shadows around the room.

Jack said he liked the wooden floorboards, a good feature he said. Great for dancing, but we do have to think about Jonathan downstairs if it is late. That is apart from the time he was dancing with us, then we didn’t care.

My neighbours are just fantastic; I’m so lucky to have them. Jonathan is a homeopath who always understands my ailments and humour. You can see his brass plaque just beside the main doorway downstairs. He makes hair products too; they are standing on the shiny glass shelf in my bathroom. If you look out of that big window again, you will see his garden, it’s beautiful all year round, it must be where he gets his inspiration.

The house next door is the vicarage, so no problems there. Robert, the vicar, is lovely, we have shared a few glasses of wine and his stories are hilarious. It is a lovely road, full of great people. What’s more near the centre of the city it’s amazingly quiet.

Before you go, Jack, did I mention the planning permission to extend into the loft. You think that’s a good selling point. No I didn’t ever get around to it, my loft is full of boxed memories.

You’re a great sales man Jack, you remind me of my granddad and he could sell anything, same patter, same charm. Thing is Jack, you don’t have all the information. The best things about this flat are the memories in the walls, the smiles that have been reflected in the glass, the happiness and the love. I think this has always been a happy home and I think anyone that lives here will get that.

Does love and happiness sell Jack, will you tell the prospective purchasers about the love. I think they need to know that it’s a wonderful home, that when the door closes behind you there is nothing quite like it.

You see, when people buy a home in Brighton they buy into a lifestyle. But what makes that even better is the home you live that lifestyle from. This home, my home, has great vibes. I think that all the people that have ever lived here have been blessed and the happiness that has been shared in the flat will fill the walls for years to come.

The Park Bench

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The elderly man sat down on the bench in the park and looked across the lawn to the tennis courts.  It was the first day of spring and the courts were full with youngsters, it reminded him of the love he once had for the game.  He remembered the trip he took to Wimbledon’s Centre Court for the final, all those years ago.   He hadn’t watched a game in a very long time and today was not going to be the day for catching up.

At the top of the bench there was a shiny silver plaque, the inscription in italic read ‘George Knox – loving father and husband, died as he lived in peace and love’.  He looked at the plaque for a moment and thought about George.  The family had done well, the bench was in a lovely spot, it got the warmth of the afternoon sun but also benefitted from a little shade at one end from an old oak.  The oak tree had been there for as long as he could remember, before the tennis courts, before the playground and long before the bench.  The scene, together with the glorious sunshine, was perfect for today.

The man had not been to the park for a very long time, he had never before sat on the bench.  Today was special, he was in the park to meet someone.  He turned to the gates, she would come from that direction and it wouldn’t be long now.  The clock above the bandstand showed it was a little after two thirty in the afternoon and she would have certainly finished her lunch. There she was, slowly entering the park with her walking aid, a small trolley with seat she pushed along in front of her to steady herself.  It gave her some independence and allowed her to visit the park when it was warm enough, today the temperature was just right.

Even from that distance anyone could see Marion was a fine woman.  He didn’t move towards her, he had to hold himself back but he watched every tiny step she made as she walked slowly and purposefully towards the bench.  There was a glimmer of a smile on her lips as she approached, she would be happy to see a space to sit herself down.  Now he was sitting along side her, he looked closely at her profile and again marveled at the fine bone structure and soft almost milky skin.  There was no need for her to wear make-up but he noticed a little lipstick, feint and unnoticeable to most but there all the same.  Marion was wearing her Christmas earrings, red enamel clip-on’s with a little sparkle.  He wondered why she had chosen today to wear them again.

The trolley was left to the side of the bench, she had taken the last couple of steps unaided.  They would not be taking it along with them, he would give her all the aid she needed from now on.  Marion sat on the bench until the sun set over the park.  It was only then that anyone noticed the old lady had died peacefully, her heart stopping gently at three, twenty-three.

George and Marion Knox walked together from the park arm in arm, reunited once more.

Oxygen

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They delivered the new oxygen today.  As well as the small cylinders you have got used to, they delivered a concentrator, a large box that takes oxygen from the air. You didn’t want it, but it was necessary as you have required more and more oxygen to do the simple things you used not to think about.  You hated it, you said you felt like you were a dog on a lead being attached to the box wherever you went.  I tried to make light of it, look for the silver lining we usually find at difficult times, but it wasn’t easy today.  I said it only meant getting used to something different, that it would make life easier when you didn’t have to wait around for your oxygen to be delivered.  I reminded you of how you would start to get a little stressed and anxious if you ran low and this wouldn’t be a problem anymore now that the oxygen was on tap.

I felt helpless when I saw you were tearful.  It’s so easy for me, who can run around town in no time at all to tell you everything will be alright.  We know it won’t, you will need oxygen now for the rest of your life.

It’s spooky in a way that you had claustrophobia all your life, that the thought of not being able to breathe was your worst nightmare.  You have lived an exceptionally healthy life and end up with an incurable and hateful lung disease.   It’s like from childhood you subconsciously knew what was to come.  When I think of your illness I often think of the stories of you as a child, licking salt from the factory walls or wearing the old gas masks you told me about.

I took you for a drive today, I thought the sun being out would cheer you up and it did.  We drove down the coast a little to a town with some tearooms.  Finding a disability parking space wasn’t a problem now we have the badges.  I set up your cylinder on the trolley and off we went to attempt a walk.  We stopped for coffee and cake, it was lovely although a little on the generous side.  Walking back towards the car, you were very slow, you stopped, you had nothing left in you and had to sit on a bench for a while in the graveyard.  In setting up the oxygen, I had forgotten to turn the bloody thing on.  I felt awful, putting that stress on your poor body, another reminder of how healthy I am in comparison.

On the journey home, you said you realised now how awful it was for dogs to be on leads.  You’re nothing like a dog mum, however beautiful you think they are, there are no similarities.

You used the concentrator again tonight. I hope it gets easier to live with and you can feel a little happier in yourself.   I suggested you put the tubing over your shoulder so it would trail behind you and you wouldn’t trip.  There you go down the hall with the tube singing to yourself and me ‘over my shoulder goes one care, over my shoulder go two cares’ you’re amazing.

Watching You

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I am following you down the street, the cobbles make it harder for you to push the pram any faster, so it is quite easy for me to keep up with you.  As I draw closer I look down into the pram at your child, a beautiful bonny baby shrouded in yellow.  I’m guessing you had a girl, I know yellow could be used for either sex but she looks like a girl, there is a look of her mother.

You have two children now, I wonder is your family complete.  I suppose it is too early to tell, you are still so young yourself.  Your daughter with that lovely thick curly hair just like her father’s, holds tightly onto the pram beside you.  She is chattering away at the double as you walk towards the park, a happy family unit on a beautiful summers day.

You don’t know me although we have met a few times now.  We met in the children’s library when you helped me find the book I was looking for and we met again at the summer fete when I was helping out with the face paints.  I sat behind you on the bus last week and across from you in the café the week before.  It’s not strange that you see me often, it is a small village and you get to recognise most folk around here.

I’m going to the park too, the dog could do with a run and I will stop for a sandwich in the café by the children’s play area.  It would be nice if we were there at the same time, I know that is your ritual on a warm day like this.  I have some bread to feed the ducks should your little one like to do that, but we will have to see if you go to the lake today.

I like it here, it’s a nice place to live, lovely for the children to grow with the countryside all around them.  I hope you stay, it would be lovely for the children and wonderful for me.

It took me a long time to find this village but I’m happy now after a lifetime of sadness and regret.  I never felt complete before I came here, I’m not really complete now but I’m probably as close as I will ever get.

I watch you from the café, pushing your daughter on the swing.  You both laugh as she soars high in the air, high enough to give her a thrill but safe enough for you, how clever of you.  The pram is close by and your eyes constantly move from pram to swing, what a wonderful mother you are, how lucky the children.

I never had any more children after they took you away from me at 16.  It has been the most painful thing to me and although I did eventually meet a good man I felt that if I had another child it would be unfair to you.  It would be like replacing you and that would be impossible.  Frank and I divorced and he has a family of his own now, I’m happy for him.

I would never tell you who I really am, I know the people that brought you up are your parents.  They are good people and did a wonderful job, for that I will be eternally grateful.  I have observed the love between you when you wave them off from one of their visits.  I love them too in a way, like you they have been included in all my prayers.

I look up to see you entering the garden area of the café.  There is not a table, you stop to look around for a space to sit.  Lily, your daughter points over in my direction, yes there are spare seats at my table by the swings.   Today I have been blessed I think to myself as you sit.

Tomorrow

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Tomorrow you might not be here anymore.  Tomorrow might not be the day after today, but there will be a tomorrow when you are gone.  I can’t imagine a tomorrow without you, where you are not in my world.  But tomorrow can wait because you are here today.  Today I can talk with you and tell you all the things you need to hear, how very, very special you are.

Lets first start with yesterday, not the day before today but all our yesterdays.  How we have walked many paths of experience together, shared many smiles and laughed out loud together.  How on that first yesterday, the yesterday we met, you loved me from the moment you saw me.  I’m not sure I remember how I felt, but I’m sure it was the same because I don’t remember ever not loving you.  We have spent a lifetime together, my lifetime anyway.  I know you started yours before me and mine might go on a little longer but knowing you is as old as my bones.  You are my oldest memory, my first memory and my forever memory.  Yesterday you taught me kindness, I copied you and it was easy.  Yesterday you showed me love and empathy, and because I received it from you, it became easy for me to show it to others.  Yesterday you listened to me, you have always listened to me and I understand the importance of listening to others.  You taught me a lot and what did I give you in return.  Yesterday I taught you fear, from the moment we met I know you feared you might loose me.  You feared for my safety and feared I might be hurt, you feared that I would be sad.  I tested you a little along the way with that lesson.  You taught me a little of that fear too, I’m fearful now for you.

Today you are in my life, today I can touch you, hold you, smell you.  I can look into your lovely blue eyes, be warmed by your smile and hear your voice.  Today I can see an aura around you that glows golden with your beauty.  There are angels in your aura, they add to the shine, they bathe in the pureness of it.  Today I can care for you, be there and show you how very special you will always be.

I am going to put yesterday, today and tomorrow in a jar and shake them up.  Shake them so they mix together and become one.  Shake them until they melt into one place and time that we will always share.