Full Circle Finale

7 10 2015

When I started this honest and candid blog, that was never meant to be more than a peak into mine and Alistair’s life as we bent and adapted to life with the curve ball three and a half years ago, little did I know that I would eventually be writing about life on my own without my ‘Big Bear’  by my side to keep me company, protect me and love me forever.

But it occurs to me now that I have actually come full circle.

Last week I moved into my new cottage, now called ‘Mynzies’ in memory of Alistair, wrapping his huge loving arms around me and saying possessively and lovingly “you’re mynzies nobody else’s all mynzies”. I loved being his, if I was his for all of eternity it wouldn’t have been too long. Please, no platitudes in the comment box, I know he is still around me, I know I was lucky to have known such tender and great love, I know all these things. I am merely making a statement of fact.

As the packing and boxing commenced it is true to say I packed up 107 in more ways than one. Of course I packed and wrapped all of the precious items I wanted to have with me here, I recycled, dumped (always feel bad about land fill- no excuses- I used the easy option) and charity shopped all the things that no longer had a purpose. Remember the Shamans words from a much earlier blog post? If you don’t know why you have something in your life either let it go or reconnect with it!  Bits and bobs of Alistair’s found homes with his old biking friends Tony and Gogs (thank you two too for keeping in such close contact with me- I count myself very lucky to have you both in my life 🙂 and honour your friendship) and I released the hold that some of Alistair’s old jackets and clothes had over me. I even released the battered old sandals! I continued the theme of release by letting go of old photographic ‘memoirs’ of people that no longer feature in my life, something quite beautifully naughty about doing that! And finally with Autumn once again upon us, I had to clear out of my sight the purple boots and jacket that I wore last year that seemed to unravel a private film show in my mind every time I looked at them, a film of me, drudging through town, queueing endlessly in Boots, day after day it seemed, to pick up prescriptions for Morphine, dressings, pee bags, laxatives and any other form of pain relief that was needed to try to stem the pain that wracked Alistairs body and bring him a modicum of relief. A picture of me tired to the bone, battle weary but still mustering up a smile and ready for action the next day. I feel truly saddened for that me, that part of me,  I intend to care for her and treat her with the respect and love that she totally deserves.

And then of course there was the emotional letting go. Letting go of the horror, the trauma, the emotional assault course that I faced daily that is the true picture of nursing not just someone at home until their death but the person I loved more than anything in the whole wide world, the person that was the out breath to my in. Of course we love/d our children, adore/d them, but the love between man and woman is a totally different love to the love we have for our children. So I let go and left behind me all of the pain- the memories, the conflicts that came along and the sickness that is cancer… you can see this move has turned out to be very cathartic.

And then the reminders, many people count down in sleeps to some exciting event, I counted down in ‘disabled showers left until I move’ and if I never see one or have to use one again, it will still be too soon! The stair lift,the riser recliner chair, the disabled aids and gadgets, all gone from me now and no place for them in ‘Mynzies’.

So here I am in  a beautiful cottage not dissimilar to the one we had to sell as a result of the curve ball, the one that Candace and Kirt and I hold dearly in our memories of the time our family was together. This one is smaller and cuter! Its perfect for me, it beckons newness, it heralds a new dawning of me, as I begin to darn the next mosaic of my souls tapestry. Im ready to move forward, to dust off the grey matter and continue my studies. To travel, to write, to welcome myself into the third stage of womanhood. Im going to be 50 in three weeks time, Im off to India to celebrate, to soothe my spirit and to let the last vestiges of the onslaught of 2014/2015 leave my aura for good.

When I wrote my opening blog over three years ago about having to leave our beloved Angel wrapped cottage little did I know that a little over three years later I would be embracing the challenge of widowhood and living in another angel wrapped cottage, only the wings of this angel belong to my darling Alistair.

Namaste friends Namaste x


“I can fly Peter”

6 07 2015

A small window of grief has opened up in me since my return from Turkey a couple of weeks ago.

Turkey was amazing, a real unwind and some healing time spent with my very beautiful Turkish friends Yeliz and Kenan (check out their amazing shop www.theuniqueart.com). They took care of me wonderfully, opened their hearts and home to me and made a potentially difficult time much easier to manage, they hold a very dear space in my heart and I count having them in my life as a rich blessing. Thank you both xxx.

It took me a couple of days I would guess to figure out how to hold my ‘space’ as ‘me’ rather than me and Alistair. Remember, apart from when I was 17, I’ve never been one to go away with the girls or do things outside of coupledom so it felt quite weird initially.  Im not overly keen on talking to actual humans for the sake of idle chit chat (an old misery guts like my lovely old mum- the apple didnt fall far from the tree)! So it helps that as my lovely sister in law says ” Im as mad as a box of frogs” and don’t mind talking to myself, flowers, tress and wildlife! In truth, much of the time when it seemed that I was talking to myself in Turkey I was actually talking to Alistair, I know without a doubt he was right beside me.

Also, I hadn’t figured on catching the eye of anyone and when I did it unsettled my equilibrium. Don’t get me wrong, it was very flattering and he wasn’t half bad looking either, but certainly not what I needed or have on my radar. Over the course of our relationship, I taught Alistair how to trust, he taught me faithfulness and we taught each other honour. Thats good enough for me 🙂

And then of course the delightful Candace, Kirt and Charlie Rascal joined me for the last week which was magical. Im very lucky that my grown up children are so happy to hang out with me and since Alistairs passing we have formed an even closer bond. Much laughter,  inappropriate comments about me being a widow and black humour is always guaranteed. They didnt let me down.

Being away though disrupted the routine that I have established for myself since February. Routine helps lots of things I find and routine has certainly helped me ease my way in these early months of wearing widows weeds. I can’t quite put my finger on the exact changes, obviously tiny subtle things that only i would notice. I suppose some of them are good and signs of healing, being more relaxed and less needing things exactly as they were back in February.  Not a routine thing I know, but I find now that I don’t have to stay only on Alistair’s side of the bed on the exact same spot on which he laid!

Im also unsettled as Im selling the house! Nothing to do with Alistair’s passing here at all. Quite simply in my heart I’m a cottage girl, we had the beautiful angel wrapped cottage in Brentwood and this house was what we needed at the time to accommodate Alistairs needs. It doesnt have my heart though and there are the most beautiful tiny weeny cottages around Saffy that certainly are much more me. Brave of me and possibly more emotionally challenging than I had initially realised, but the seed of an idea has germinated and Im totally excited by it. Another thread weaves its way into the mosaic of my life’s rich tapestry. Thank you to all 8 of my house selling and buying  advisors who are steering me through such a big event with love and much needed rational assistance 🙂

Its long now without Alistair, this is my life, without my very best friend, my lover, my business partner, my mentor, my companion. The person who believed in me and would join me wholly in my world of metaphorically believing I could fly. The two of us would stand side by side with our left arms outstretched and our heads resting on our upper arms every time we came up with another plan or another idea or another dream that we wanted to manifest. Our own version of Peter Pan in flight. Both firmly believing that if it was right for us, the Universe would provide it for us if it was for the highest good of all and we had set out intentions accordingly. I still embrace this, I just have to fly on my own now. I also have to remember, if its not meant to be it won’t be and not to wrestle with that on an ego level; work in progress !!!

Of course, I have Candace and Kirt and Hannah, all of whom welcome me into their lives without question and who check in with me regularly. I have my lovely sister and equally lovely sister in law Gillian and Uncle Paul, all there for me with unwavering love and support. But, I don’t have Alistair. I don’t say this next sentence with pity or to try to win the competition of who is grieving more, but simply put, everyone else still has their special someone, I have lost mine. How I miss being cherished.

There is without doubt though a lot of healing going on deep in my soul. So yes,  the window of grief is making its presence felt,  And it will pass.

Namaste x




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