Elizabeth Barrett Browning (1833)
Go, sit upon the lofty hill,
And turn your eyes around,
Where waving woods and waters wild
Do hymn an autumn sound.
The summer sun is faint on them —
The summer flowers depart —
Sit still — as all transform’d to stone,
Except your musing heart.
How there you sat in summer-time,
May yet be in your mind;
And how you heard the green woods sing
Beneath the freshening wind.
Though the same wind now blows around,
You would its blast recall;
For every breath that stirs the trees,
Doth cause a leaf to fall.
Oh! like that wind, is all the mirth
That flesh and dust impart:
We cannot bear its visitings,
When change is on the heart.
Gay words and jests may make us smile,
When Sorrow is asleep;
But other things must make us smile,
When Sorrow bids us weep!
The dearest hands that clasp our hands, —
Their presence may be o’er;
The dearest voice that meets our ear,
That tone may come no more!
Youth fades; and then, the joys of youth,
Which once refresh’d our mind,
Shall come — as, on those sighing woods,
The chilling autumn wind.
Hear not the wind — view not the woods;
Look out o’er vale and hill —
In spring, the sky encircled them —
The sky is round them still.
Come autumn’s scathe — come winter’s cold —
Come change — and human fate!
Whatever prospect Heaven doth bound,
Can ne’er be desolate.
It`s been almost two months since I last typed my blog up, which in some ways reflects my mindset as THAT big birthday fast approached and then arrived.
Well it did arrive, and despite a handful of cards with numbers on, a candle added between two candles with happy birthday on them by my Sister, and a friend with four large balloons on my doorstep that all made me cringe, the day went well. To me my Nephews always make me smile and laugh and this year my Son taking the day as his own wasn`t such a bad thing. *Laughs*
how are you?
I feel the moves,
inside the bump.
Hours I watch,
Mirror is propped,
to see skin jump.
Hand on the bump;
a pulse that hits,
moves it`s sides,
sweeping my palm.
times of rest,
are little kicks.
My Son`s birthday followed on the day after, and his was his 21st. It only seems like last year that I sat like a hare in the headlights as a nurse handed him to me. I remember looking at how big his hands and feet were, so big, and nothings changed; he now wears size 12 shoes! He spent 10 days in the special care baby unit as he had repository distress syndrome, and needed help to breathe. I barely saw him in those ten days, I couldn`t open the heavy doors alone, and had to wait for someone to push me; when I did see him his incubator was so high that I could really only see the top of his hair. (His Father spent his days painting a boat, not with us.) My Family lived in London, and I was new to the area, so it was all very daunting and frightening, that it almost didn`t feel real. It wasn`t really until I took him home and spent time alone with him that he started to feel like mine, but post natal depression set in and I would fear him falling out of windows even before he could sit up!
Despite PND I cherish so many memories of him, especially of reading to him, that was our special time. I bought him so many books over the years, some I still can`t bare to part with. Books became his escapism and he still loves to read to this day and has a wide knowledge because of it.
We often played in the garden a great deal, here we would paint or play hide and seek, he was so funny at that as he`d giggle or shout out!
Superman was in the shower,
tucking his arms under………..
“Woosh!” he verbally sounds;
crouches low to the flow.
His pink little body,
poses with all his toddler might,
believing for every second that,
he is the famous Superman.
Blonde hair dripping,
soap gently applied, he
rescues a lifeboat of plastic,
from the giant plastic crab!
Despite our ups and downs over the years, particularly due to his Father`s interventions, we are friends most of the timee, lol. We are very similar in personality, though he shares his Fathers manner. We laugh at the same things, share similar interests and he has taught me so much about myself and given me a love of history that I never had at school. He has no prejudices of colour, religion or abilities, he just accepts everyone, unless they give him a reason not to, so very like me, I`m proud of that.
He recently helped to organize the Remembrance day parade locally, many people attended and it was done with reverence and respect. Although I am not a great believer that war solves anything, there are no winners nor losers, only death and suffering. I was proud that he was part of such a historic event as it was a mature responsibility that he undertook with an understanding of the history behind it all.
To his Girlfriend`s and my pride he was the only one that wore a purple Poppy for the animals that also die in war.
If the first world war taught us anything, it taught us that mental health can hit us all, it was during this war that Post traumatic Stress bought mental health to the masses, because whether you be top brass or Tommy it could affect you.
Though I doubt the cures were as miraculous as this little film claims, especially judging by his nervous hands but war in itself brought huge changes in psychiatry.
Though sadly a 100 years on what help there is for those with mental health issues is being taken by cutbacks in the system, and there are less and less facilities for those needing them. One such group is the local be-friending group where people with depression, OCD, Agorophobia, Anxiety or other MH issues are able to meet up, and not feel judged if they need to leave suddenly or feel unwell. These are also the people I volunteer with, and telephone to support those that are unable to get to the groups or were waiting for a be-friending volunteer to out and about with. It is a charity based group that over the last two years had been funded by the lottery, but this year the money went elsewhere, and when they approached the council for help, they were turned down. In the wake of the fall out are 180 people that may be left isolated once again. For such a simple idea the group provided coffee and chat once a month at three different times and three different locations, they provided telephone support and a volunteer support and when people felt stronger and more able, they too could then volunteer to provide support for others with an inside understanding. Sadly trying to make a corporate business understand how something so simple works so well, has proved impossible, they wants lights and bells in neat little boxes that wouldn`t necessarily suit all.
Through these groups I too have made new friends, friends that I now keep in touch with via my mobile or facebook, but only see at the groups due to where I live, financial and mobility problems. This cutback will impact me too, as I looked forward to the coffee mornings, getting out and my voluntary work made me feel I was giving something back.
I returned to the online dating game and with surprising results, I never believed people when they said that when you stop waiting for a bus three come at once!
I`m not declaring this great return as a success story, but the fact my profile says very little but one of the photos sees me in a wheelchair with no explanation seems to have the right result as I get noticed and messaged.
I was stood up last month, twice! One was very disappointing as I had liked him a few years ago when I first started dating, we had met up a few times, even been intimate but it didn`t work out as my ex was still very much making his presence felt and confusing me. The stand up reason that he was called into work suddenly to do a lecture and didn`t have time, but the fact he`s not tried since speaks volumes.
The second stand up guy is a white van man who had been asking for over a year to meet me, but the time I actually agree, he disappears! I half jokingly said to a friend: “I hope he`s not had an accident.” He made contact some weeks later to say he had! I`m not whole hearteningly convinced though, as despite him having my mob number and me his, he never answers his or contacts me on mine, only on the site, despite supposedly being home alone and off work recuperating.
The fact is you never really know who you`re talking to, only what they tell you.
One guy that wants to meet up with me on his time off, of all things is a Prison officer! Now baring in mind my ex was a Prison officer that left me for another prison officer, i`m not sure I want to meet another!
One man at present that writes to me constantly is a widow and is clearly at a loss and lonely. He seems a good man, if not desperate, but it isn`t that, that really bothers me. His wife was also a fulltime wheelchair user; though her disability was different from mine, she too was born disabled. He describes her as housebound and totally unable to care for herself and he did all her care. I have met others with the same disability and they were able to do more than he describes. I also feel he singled me out because of my disability, and his void of needing to care. To be totally honest this freaks me out but at the same time I feel sorry for him as he talks of his deceased wife constantly. I have simply said I didn`t feel he was ready to move on yet.
My other thought was, “Is he a devotee?” (Attraction to disability is a sexualised interest of people in the appearance, sensation and experience of disability. It may extend from normal human sexuality into a type of sexual fetishism. ) The reason I wonder this is because of the indepth descriptions of his deceased wife`s disability and exactly what he had to do to care for her, even very personal care.
Still, I chat to a few guys and have done so for quite a time, it`s a funny way to have friends that arn`t real friends because we`ve never met, then some want to meet but for one reason or another we never do. This girl here sums up my experences 100%! I totally agrre with her philosophy of having a disability is an advantage to dating, because people tend to react straight away one way or another and we`re experts at reading them!
The big news at the moment is Band aid 30, the new single for Ebola. The lyrics have been slightly re-written but the essence is the same as 30 years ago and the singers more up to date for this generation.
I remember in 1984 sitting on a little red child`s chair with my then two year old Sister on my knees, singing away to Band aid the first time around. I was my Sons age and my Sister now has Sons of her own! We have it on video somewhere, but best well hidden!