I wish I could talk to her

I wish I could speak to my mother, my sister, but they are gone. If there was a phone line, a way to communicate. Just to say hello. To get some comfort. To just say a few words and get some response. It’s hard to lose people, it leaves such an empty space. Even when I’m busy I think of them. I thought I would learn to cope, and I have to some extent, but the older you get it seems the more the regret grows (at least for me). Sadness, regret, pain, loss, mourning, they all crowd in on me sometimes.

At the Leopard

Before it burnt down, the Leopard Hotel was a great place to visit, the owners asked me to paint a series of murals in the Arnold Bennett suite at the back of the hotel.

Here is one of a few photos a visitor to it took of my paintings. It doesn’t show them clearly, but it does give an idea of the sizes and the distances between them.

I’ve painted murals at other places but the buildings they were in have mostly been demolished! I’m not complaining but I think its sad that all the effort that was put in to paint them has been lost. Some of them were joint projects with artists from Stoke-on-Trent city council. I was just helping on those and wasn’t the main artist so I don’t feel as attached to them as I did with the Leopard. Such a sad loss to the town of Burslem. It was a historic building that had a lot of influence on the lives of its residents.

Confusion, can’t help myself..

The world keeps spinning and I’m still here, one year older. I feel, I don’t know? Like I need to change, to try and be positive. I have escaped from last week’s or years thoughts. Maybe I can gain some strength now I’m a year older and wiser? I have fractured thoughts…

Grief holds you tight, you interpret things in its light. Your expectations change. Fear and worry hold your hand. A loss of a sibling? Never to speak again…. Memories sneak up on you. You peek round a corner and they pounce on you. Birthdays, bad days, no joy. But now? Can I look forward not back? I must try…

Mothers Day

Gone but I remember you. It’s been a few years, but on Mother’s day I wish you were still here. I could tell you my news, how things had been. You would be stern but fair, or happy and pleased. No matter what, you would try and help with problems. You cared about things.

Mothers (and Fathers) who have passed away are still remembered. It’s always a tug on my heart when the day comes round and I can’t buy her flowers or get each of them a card, a thank you for their care and support. I will try to keep those memories, to keep her in my mind, today and in future.

Six months…

Six months since I lost you

Six months of sorrow

I don’t remember every day

But milestones on the way

Remind me of a voice lost

A physical presence gone.

When I feel down the loss is greater

I dispare that your life is over.

I still pray for you at night

And I wish with all my might

That you were still here

Even if you were not near

Sister, twin, friend

My love to you

I send.

Walking

Two years ago I was walking almost every day to get fit. Then I pulled a calf muscle and my walking buddy got ill. I was stuck for a while because I wasn’t able to put much weight on my leg without it feeling like it was going to snap again. I ended up not walking very far. I tried to get back into it. But then illness and loss got to me. I ended the year with a chest infection. Now I have seen this and hubby has been walking I think I need to start again. There is no reason why I can’t if I try once I’m well again.

My sister, Farewell

It’s social media so I’m not sharing her whole face or naming her. But she had a good Farewell yesterday, kind words and thoughts. We seperated in late teenage hood as I left home to go to college. We went in different directions, I think she had a more romantic view of life and she had an almost fairy tale history (married with two children). I won’t talk much about her world, I don’t want to share too much personal information. We were seperated by many miles, but the bond was still there. I wish we had been closer and visited more. Bereavement is full of regret. I do regret, but I don’t feel guilty.

Toast at 4am

It’s another one of those nights. I lie down to sleep but my thoughts churn. I’m too hot, then too cold. I tried reading but hubby wants the light out, then he starts to snore. I came downstairs to get a drink, decaffeinated coffee, what a thrill?! I decided to treat myself to a slice of toast with hummus. Not very exciting. I know that at this rate it will be afternoon before I get up. One of the cats is on the armchair next to me, paw over his nose, keeping the light from the standard lamp out of his eyes. Oh to be a cat, curling up wherever you can. Warmed in a fur coat that is totally ethical. The house creaks at night, it’s old and not very well made. I think of my sister late at night. My chest does ache, but it might just be the cold I’ve had for the last few days. I guess I’ve got to learn to live with the loss. I’m still mourning her. Maybe tomorrow night I’ll get a better night’s sleep.

Gemini

Half of me was wrenched away

Just six weeks ago, today

Now you’re gone through that door

And I will see your face no more,

We weren’t close, but still I knew

My life and yours, linked as two

Souls that shared a single birth

Both of us, a childhoods hearth.

Still I think you will call me up

We’ll talk a while over a cup

Or two of tea, and a scone

But really I know you’re gone.

I can’t forget, but I will begin

To think you’re in the sky, a star, my twin.