Always Home

 

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Peering through the window now,

I think of our yesterdays.

I can see the kitchen table laid,

it was under there I played.

I can see you pottering all alone,

a smile upon your face.

Knowing that I’d soon be home,

to this very special place.

I can smell the distant memories,

cake and homemade jam.

Looking to my childhood home,

from where my life began.

If I travel the whole wide world,

or to other planets further.

You’ll always stand as home to me,

 you’ll always be my mother.

~

lizalizaskysaregrey©2017

 

 

Watching You Play

Have you been here before little one, I think to myself as I watch you play. Lost in your own world as you sit in the corner of the room with your toys. The sun steams through the window upon you, as if lighting you up for the world, but you my darling, are lost in your imaginings and I am impossible to see.

I try to connect to your thoughts, link in with your world but it is impossible to reach that place in childhood that is just too innocent and wonderful for adults to enter. The cat lifts her head from the sofa and looks at me, I must have disturbed her but you my lovely one, are still lost in the wonder of your toys.

I want to cry as I hold you in my sight, my love for you being so strong. I feel a tear upon my face but I don’t brush it away, letting it fall into your world. I think this love will last forever, I feel it throughout my being. From the moment you were born, the love I felt for you became part of me, it defines me, it explains my very existence.

I roll a marble across the floor in your direction, it rolls to the left of you and stops. I see you momentarily glance at it before resuming play. You are not interested in the marble today. I sit in my chair in the bay of the window and watch you, I have all the time in the world.

Your play is disturbed by the sound of the ice cream truck, playing its tune as it turns the corner of the street. You stand for a moment, coming closer to the window, to watch the truck go past. Do you remember your first ice cream, sitting as you did in your high chair with chocolate ice cream everywhere? Oh how we laughed, there are pictures of it somewhere, your chocolate kisses all over my face. We must get granny to sort them out for you, they will make you laugh.

As if by magic granny enters the room, your warm smile greeting her. You throw your doll to the corner and run into grannies arms, to be picked up and swirled around. The cat lifts itself and stretches, it’s dinnertime and she too wants to be noticed.

In grannies arm you head to the mantle piece to look at the photographs displayed. Granny gently touches my picture as she does every day and tells you again about your mummy who loved you very much. You listen again as you do every day and kiss her eyes and cheeks. Although she is smiling we can both see the sadness in grannies eyes as she talks of me, keeping me alive in the memories.

Granny does not notice you as you point to the chair in the window I am sitting upon but I do.

lizalizaskysaregrey©2016

My Writing Journey

Today I got notification that I had published 500 posts on WordPress!  That’s amazing, I would imagine most of them are in the last few months or this year because before this I wasn’t at all serious about blogging.  I started my blogging journey by writing a letter to my mother who was at the time seriously ill with an incurable lung disease.  I was struggling to come to terms with the fact that she wouldn’t be around for too long.  After mum passed away I lost any ability to do much at all, I was frozen but gradually I started to write again.  Writing helps me work myself out, I answer my own questions, change my mind and answer them again.  I like to write poems, some silly ones that make me laugh and some deeper.  I love spiritual philosophy and use my blog to share my own philosophy.

Today I would like to republish my first ever post in celebration of the journey and celebration of my mother who continues to be my inspiration.

My Mothers Love

Mum, I have always written in your cards that I love you with all my heart, and I do, I love you deeply with my whole being. I want to try and explain my love for you but it’s not an easy task talking about an emotion that is invisible yet at the same time tremendously powerful. I have not experienced life without your love so its hard to fathom what that might feel like, maybe a big empty hole, falling forever with no attachment to bind me. Thinking back, I remember you used to say to us as children ‘I love you with all my heart and I did right from the start’. I imagined, as a small child when you said it, you meant the start of time, because that’s how big, warm and safe it felt. When I tell you I love you it does not seem enough, those are words used by everyday people and you are not an everyday person, you are so much more. I could write about my love and appreciation for you until there were no trees left on the earth and a mountain of paper, covering the horizon and blocking out the sun and moon, but I’m not sure I could capture the words, I’m not sure there really are words in this world.

Your very poorly now and carry so much pain and yet you are so incredibly brave, you don’t dwell on that bastard illness, you fight it with that huge spirit of yours. When you first got ill the doctors said at that stage you had no time left, but you were never having that, and went about visualising my sister Laura and I inside your lungs with cloth caps and brooms, sweeping out all the bad, singing as we worked and by some miracle we did it, you improved. We know that it wasn’t really a miracle, it involved the power of thought, coupled with determination, and we know really it worked because of the magic of the love we share. You are so brave, you sing to yourself now to help you to breathe easier and make the pain go away, you tell yourself, believe and sing about how happy and lucky you are. In my minds eye, I can see you stooped and in awful pain struggling as you walk towards Green Lane singing your little song ‘I’m so happy’, it makes me want to cry, you crazy, wonderful, beautiful woman! You see yourself dancing at Claude’s wedding, it’s a long way off but your sheer determination might get you there.

From the day I was born I know without a shadow of a doubt, that you have loved me every moment. I know that you think of me shortly after waking, throughout the day and last thing at night. Your love keeps me safe, I know that you think I am special and I can never really be lonely or lost in any way with your love around me. I can’t describe to you how wonderful it has been to be in receipt of your love, it’s like I won the lottery of life having you as my mum. You have always put me and Laura first, there is not anything you would not give up for your girls and grandchildren, you would go to the ends of the earth and back for each of us. We know you would genuinely die for us, that you feel our pain every bit as much as we do and would willingly carry it for us. It is lucky for all of us that you also share our joy, and our achievements are your best achievements.

Small things give you pleasure, being with your family, being together, sharing a meal and celebrating. I get that now and it is what is important to me too, I wish I had understood that sooner. You have a silly way of looking at us, full of love and pride, it used to embarrass me, now I embrace it. I am turning into you in a little way, I hear you speaking when I speak to my son sometimes but your shoes are too big for me, I could never fit into them. If only I could be as selfless and giving as you, more spiritual and less materialistic. I am trying, as to be a fraction as good a person as you would be amazing.

You are the most giving person and you are gentle and kind, passionate and full of empathy for others. You’re interested in people, not in a nosey way but with concern, you share the troubles and joys of others, you grieve and celebrate and above all try to understand. Your love is as big as the world and as warm as the sun and everybody who has ever known you would agree, we know there is a lot of love for Jean!

I speak to you every day, about six times occasionally but always more than once. We are sometimes deep and meaningful and make sense of the world, put it to rights but often we talk complete mindless rubbish. I know how much it means to you and that talking to your girls keeps you going especially now that awful illness is taking over more and more we are your lifeline and what keeps you going. Mum, I have been meaning to say, you must change that voice mail message, I will help.

I’m frightened sometimes mum, I’m frightened of losing you, of not hearing your voice anymore of not making you laugh. You might have years left, your spirit is still young, but I don’t want to leave it at that without telling you how special you are and how much you have given me. I know that one day you will leave me for a while but you will always be there too, it’s what we believe and we will still talk, I’m absolutely sure of it. You will just be in the next room, the door to that room will not be immediately accessible to me and take me some time to find, but I will find it and you will be waiting there for me.

Your love grows and spreads everywhere, you gave me and taught me empathy and I only work with troubled children now because of the understanding I got from you. You showed me how to reach out to others, really listen and be interested enough to do something to help. How to love, care, communicate and understand the needs of others, understanding the troubles and be there. I’m sure your love is catching and I hope everybody comes down with it. I am blessed to have you as my mum, the children I have worked with have benefitted in a small way because you are my mum.

Your beauty has no comparison in this world, the first sunrise, the deepest colour, the saddest song, and the brightest flower all diminish in your shadow. I was right, there are not words to tell you how I feel, it’s big and warm and makes me cry and laugh at the same time. I won the lottery that’s for sure, I probably jumped a few lifetimes with what you have managed to teach me and the world is a better place for having you in it.

I know that for as long as I live and long after I will be loved by you, and that love comes back at you mum, a million times.

Thank you mum

 

What was your first blog post?

This Love

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Her reverence adorns him, 

like a cloak of golden thread.

Gentle kisses sprinkled, 

from a place above his head.

Her love will never falter, 

it will always hold him high.

She’ll always walk beside him, 

even after their goodbye.

Her heart will always hold him, 

in a very special place.

You will always see her beauty, 

when looking upon his face.

A love story that continues, 

even after all is done.

A love so truly  special, 

between a mother and a son.

Butterflies 


I’ve been out of sorts the last week or so, weird dreams that I’ve shared here, fluctuating moods and bad feet. Luckily my neighbor and friend is a homeopath and knows me well.  He has treated me over the years and strangely usually gets me right.  I say strange because before I met him I thought homeopathy was a load of rubbish. How he has proved me wrong over the years is just amazing.

Last week he gave me amythst for three days and I was so much lighter, fun and put my worries to the back of my mind.  That was not the end, he thought about me, my life experiences and thought he may have another deeper remedy.  He asked how I felt about butterflies. How strange it was five minutes after I had written a poem about butterflies and he doesn’t even follow my blog!

I’ve been a little infactuated with these little creatures lately, it’s all to do with my preoccupation with death and transitions.  Apparently this remedy sits well with me, loss of mother, abandoned in childhood (father), feelings of loss and abandonment, self doubt, feet etc. 

It arrived yesterday and I swallowed it without a seconds thought. Nothing much happened and I thought maybe it wasn’t the right remedy. That’s okay because if it’s not right, it won’t hurt.

Last night I went to bed and dreamt of my mum, she was alive, warm and beautiful. We hugged and I cried, I’m crying now as I write this but that’s good because they are happy tears.  

I think he was right, the remedy was deep.

My Boy

 

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Being a mother is the best thing I’ve done,

I was put here on earth to be my boys mum.

It comes with such happiness, heartbreak and joy,

I am incredibly proud that he is my boy.

But then there’s the worries that come with the job.

From the moment of birth, a hotline to God.

To please keep him safe, let him be adored,

to experience love and never ignored

And that’s how it goes, being a mum.

One minute worry, the next lots of fun.

But I wouldn’t trade this job for my life,

for the love of my boy, I’ll deal with the strife.

Thinking of my son, who is actually twenty six and flying off to New York today with his girlfriend.  I want him to have the time of his life but I won’t rest until the plane touches down safely.  It’s all in the job you see!

 

Stillness

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My mother took my hand last night. She led me to a place of being, where I could just be still and rest in that stillness.

I could see her hand but no more, I followed because I could feel and I trusted in that. I understood her intent, although we did not speak. I knew there was no need for words.

I sat and just was. I didn’t think, I didn’t look around, I just was. I was everything there ever was and everything that will ever be.

I accepted and was and here today, I am.