Weekend Walkies

On Saturday, despite having a list as long as my arm of things to do around the house and garden, I took advantage of the break in miserable weather and went for a walk with my mum and brothers. Slightly miffed at their concerns when we parked the cars and the questions as to whether I was feeling alright (apparently I only ask for walkies when I am depressed!) which I guess over the summer months might have been true. Many a time, I spent a Sunday afternoon walking up hills, waiting for our little 'rest stop' before bursting into tears and confessing all to my mum who was always at the ready with tissues and hugs, whilst Lucy the dog was ready with a big stick covered in drool that didn't quite fit as she charged between us.

This time though, there was none of the above because I have nothing to feel down or sad about. Life is pretty good, I am happy and it shows.

We walked for a few hours and found this tree. It looks lonely but sinister. I like it. I think there is a story somewhere.

Finding the words

I have lost my voice
the words are there
but I write
erase
I have little choice

does that mean
my past is forgotten
that I no longer
feel
what I have seen

some other time
another life
where perfection
disguised
to never be mine

new empathy of face
feels natural
and safe
tenderness
promised with every embrace

take as you will
no borrowed words
a silent
promise
and no standing still

Poppy tears

Yesterday I sat at my desk and burst into tears. The two minute silence had just finished, tweets were coming through on twitter with kind words of remembrance for the brave souls and a song came onto the radio that made my hairs stand on end as my eyes prickle.

I felt so desperately sad, not only for those that have lost their lives in wars – both the distant past and the recent weeks but also for those soldiers and ex soldiers who continue on. My thoughts went to an ex soldier who although alive, has lost his life through so many ways. War destroyed his soul and spirit and led him down troubled paths. It has and is taking years for those demons to be put to bed. I don’t think they will ever truly disappear; there will always be the memories of the sights and sounds of war. I also thought of my friend’s partner who at 27 joined the army this year and who is set to go on a tour of duty in spring. I hope he will be ok; the scars that he may return with scare me.

I also thought of someone else who I can see is broken and who has stopped his heart from believing in something that he started, something that he has grown and developed. Times have been very hard and instead of sharing, he has buried his head in the sand and prayed that all will be well. It isn’t well and it won’t be. All I can do is motivate and try to empower him with some faith in what he and his team believe in and the skills and talents they have. I only hope his grasp hasn’t let go completely.

Then there was my brother, who is the most caring, gentle, loving gentleman I know but who never seems to find himself in an easy relationship. His fiancé had ended their relationship leaving him distraught and lost. When he falls in love, he falls hard, deep and fast and after a number of long relationships that have followed a similar path, all we want is for him to find his ‘one’ and not someone who demands so much of his time and who takes advantage of his good nature.

My tears were interrupted by a fire drill, so wiping my eyes and grabbing my things, I made my way to the check point in the park where I stood and thought: All I can do is continue to be me, to keep growing and to provide the helping hand, the cuddles and the support to help them through these not so bright times.