Christmas memories

December 26, 2015

The Queen mentioned in her speech this year that it is always hard for someone “celebrating” Christmas the first time after losing a loved one. True.

This year was the third Christmas & it doesn’t seem to get any easier. At times it’s possible to enjoy the day but there are times when it’s just not right, that person should be there, and it’s tough.

Mum wasn’t forgotten today. She was talked about. She was remembered. But she wasn’t there. I have so many memories of so many Christmases, in fact all the ones in my life before three years ago. Memories where she was so poignant, so integral to Christmas. From outting up the tree, decorating the house, writing the cards and even making the Christmas trifle. Nowadays it just seems wrong her not being there for these key moments.

This evening I lit a candle she gave me & I remembered her again. Those happy happy memories of Christmases past will always stay with me. Happy Christmas Mum x



December 2, 2015

Today I remembered you. It’s hard to believe that two whole years have passed already. It doesn’t seem so long ago that I last saw you, that I told you I loved you & asked you to fight & get better.

Two years ago the world shifted & it just hasn’t been the same since. There have been tough times, lots of them actually & it’s been all the harder without you here helping me face them.

Today I’ve tried to keep busy. I spent some time with Dad but we didn’t talk about it. It was like the elephant in the room. We both knew it was there. It was rather surreal eating tea, remembering that meal we’d just finished two years ago when that awful call came. Then the memories came flooding back of those awful hours & days that followed.

It hurt today that only one person remembered & asked how I was. That simple gesture meant so much, just knowing someone had remembered & thought about me & knew it would be tough. I  guess it stressed the point, that you’re gone, that I can’t talk to you. It made me remember again how much I miss you, of that huge hole that now exists.

Today has been a day for memories. Tomorrow will be another day trying to live without you. I don’t know yet how to do that but I’m trying.

Know that no matter what, I’ll never forget. I’m grateful for those years we had together, for everything you did for me, for all the sacrifices you made. I can’t repay them now but know I’m grateful and I love you xx



August 12, 2015

Sometimes it’s just too much. You feel like you’ve got the weight of the world on your shoulders & you’re going to break, to cracking under the pressure of it all. It’s like you’ve reached the limit, you just can’t take any more. But you have to and it keeps on coming. The fears grow, the worries increase. Everything is just too much.

How do you cope when you feel like you’ve reached the end of your tether? When you’re so close to snapping? So close to just collapsing under the pressure of it all? When the tears just stream from nowhere, for no apparent reason except that you can’t take it any longer?

There’s only so much a person can stand. Only so many things that can balance on your back. At some point you just need someone to carry the load  a little, to realise you’re alone & that it’s just too much for one person.


The Touch of the Masters Hand

August 10, 2015

My experience & emotions about the piano being turned into a desk, reminded me of this poem. It was special to my Grandma and to my Mum. It reminds us that even if things appear broken and worthless, that in the hands of the right person,. they can be something beautiful and do wonderful things.
The Old Violin
The Touch of the Masters Hand

‘Twas battered and scarred,
And the auctioneer thought it hardly worth his while
To waste his time on the old violin, but he held it up with a smile.
“What am I bid, good people”, he cried,
“Who starts the bidding for me?”
“One dollar, one dollar, Do I hear two?”
“Two dollars, who makes it three?”
“Three dollars once, three dollars twice, going for three,”

But, No,
From the room far back a gray bearded man
Came forward and picked up the bow,
Then wiping the dust from the old violin
And tightening up the strings,
He played a melody, pure and sweet
As sweet as the angel sings.

The music ceased and the auctioneer
With a voice that was quiet and low,
Said “What now am I bid for this old violin?”
As he held it aloft with its’ bow.

“One thousand, one thousand, Do I hear two?”
“Two thousand, Who makes it three?”
“Three thousand once, three thousand twice,
Going and gone”, said he.

The audience cheered,
But some of them cried,
“We just don’t understand.”
“What changed its’ worth?”
Swift came the reply.
“The Touch of the Masters Hand.”

“And many a man with life out of tune
All battered and bruised with hardship
Is auctioned cheap to a thoughtless crowd
Much like that old violin

A mess of pottage, a glass of wine,
A game and he travels on.
He is going once, he is going twice,
He is going and almost gone.

But the Master comes,
And the foolish crowd never can quite understand,
The worth of a soul and the change that is wrought
By the Touch of the Masters’ Hand.

– by Myra Brooks Welch




August 9, 2015

Antique-PianoI’m a pianist. I’ve been playing the piano for as long as I’ve been walking. Apparently as soon as I could stand I was over at the piano trying to play so it was only natural for me to have lessons from a very early age. I might not be a professional and I’m certainly a bit more rusty nowadays but nevertheless, I’m a pianist. Music is embedded deep in my soul, it’s part of me and I can’t imagine life without it.

So imagine my horror earlier today when some friends posted online that their work to transform a piano into a desk was well under way!!! :O  I was horrified and literally just shouted noooooooo, sacrilege! I told them that they couldn’t kill a piano. They replied it was beyond hope and they were giving it a new purpose. I’ve no problem with recycling or transforming things, but IT’S A PIANO!! It’s not just a piece of furniture, it’s a musical instrument, carefully and amazingly constructed to produce beautiful sounds. You can’t just abandon it as not fit for purpose (perhaps that’s a sad reflection on life today but that’s for another post.) It should be cared for, restored, repaired, re-tuned and returned to its former glory. It shouldn’t have all its musical wonders removed (that picture almost made me cry) & left as an empty shell, a case, a mere shadow of its former self.

The series of photos which followed really bothered me and drove me to my own piano. I just had to sit & play. And as I did, memories of my piano playing past resurfaced, memories of my Mum listening, memories of my first solo in public, memories of exams and practice. Emotional memories. And that’s just as it should be. A piano should inspire, emote, transfix and so many other things. It’s not just a piece of furniture, it has a heart and soul of its own.

So this evening I’m emotional. I mourn the loss of a piano. Madness you say? No, just the power of a piano to a pianist.



You should be writing!

August 2, 2015

you-should-be-writingSometimes I want to write. I feel I have words that I need to get out. I have something to say. The trouble is, I don’t always actually know what that is. Right now is one if those tines. I need to write, to express myself, to get something out there. Usually I find that once I start writing the words just seem to flow.

I heard a couple of musicians speak about writing music the other day. Interestingly they said that if a song doesn’t work within a few minutes, then it’s wrong & so they just move onto the next, that their best works aren’t actually planned, they just happen almost as though they are fortunate enough to be in the right place at the right time to receive them from the universe. Interesting concept. Not sure if I agree with that idea completely, I mean it would be pretty sad if you missed out on writing the best music ever just because you weren’t there on that specific day, but I can certainly understand the concept. In the past I’ve started many posts on here but haven’t completed them. Maybe it just wasn’t the right time for them. Perhaps I’ll even return to some of them, one day, soon. Who knows?

So back to the here & now. I guess I’ve missed writing. I like the sense of accomplishment that creating words gives me. It’s important to have that, to feel that you can contribute something worthwhile maybe not necessarily to the world but at least to your little corner of it. It might not be as useful as a scientific of medical advancement. It might not be the answer to the world’s problems or the solution to achieving world peace. But at the end of the day, we can’t all produce that level of accomplishment. For some of us self success is much simpler & down to earth. The little things are just as important, perhaps even more so.

For now, I’ll just continue to write. To put letters together and string words next to words. Hopefully I’ll be able to at least create something interesting with them. And I’ll continue writing, striving to touch something in people or to creating that novel which is apparently within all of us, just waiting to get out there!

Thanks for the encouragement to do just that – you know who you are x


ps. you know there’s even a ‘youshouldbewriting’ hashtag out there!


Alone in a crowd

June 14, 2015

I watched a discussion on television the other day where they were discussing whether or not it was right for women to remain single or whether we should all strive to get married, because that’s the norm in society. Some of the views expressed annoyed & angered me. At the same time I agree it is the norm and if you’re not married many people look at you differently. Sometimes they don’t actually even look at you at all and it seems not being married makes you a non person. Unfortunately I often find myself feeling like that, particularly at church which is sad. It hurts. I know it’s only silly little things but I feel them, perhaps I’m just too sensitive?

Today I was at a wedding and it happened again. Arriving alone I had to decide where to sit. I found a couple of people outside & tried to tag along but it became clear that that wasn’t what they wanted and I found myself hovering, not knowing what to do. I even asked someone if I could sit next to them but they were saving the seat. I felt very lost. It’s just hard. I guess people in couples just don’t see it. They don’t realise how difficult it can be to arrive on your own & try to fit in. Maybe it comes easily to some people. Unfortunately I’m not one of those people.

So what should I have done? What can I do in situations like that? Maybe I’m feeling it more this week cos it’s been a tough week, one that I’ve really struggled through? I don’t know.

So although I enjoyed my day, I’m now sitting at home, alone, reflecting on things, wishing they’d gone differently. Hopeful that perhaps next time I’ll be pleasantly surprised. Trouble is, I’m just not that optimistic.

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