The only 100% certainty in life is that we will all die.
If you follow me on Facebook then you’ll know that I had to travel to attend a funeral this weekend. The funeral was that of my great aunt who was a wonderful lady, always larger than life, generous to a fault and called a spade a spade. It was very strange to attend a family situation without her presence because as far back as I can remember she was always an attendee at the weddings and funerals I have been at, of which for someone of my age I have attended far too many.
My grandad was the first, followed by a school friend who died in a car accident, an aunt, a church youth group friend who died of leukaemia, my mum, my second cousin, my husbands workmate and my great aunt. Too many funerals. Since my mums death I really struggle with funerals. I find them to be overly emotional affairs that bring back far too many memories and have me crying like a baby, even if it’s not directly as a result of my relationship with the person who has died. In fact, it can be rather embarrassing and I try to hold it in but inevitably do a very poor job.
This funeral was a very beautiful affair with a poignant poem that I have never before heard. Considering the number of funerals I have been to, I’m surprised not to have come across this poem before. It’s called The Dash by Linda Ellis.
Isn’t it funny that we have all seen the inscription below peoples names displaying their year of birth to their year of death and never taken in the significance of the dash. I’ll never look at that dash the same way again after hearing this poem. Let’s take a minute and think about that dash and what it would represent in our own lives. Would your dash have significant impact on the people who know you? Have you done all you want to achieve in life and lived it? Or has life been passing you by?
I realised the other day that if I were to die at the same age my mum was then I have little more than 8.5 years left to live. That is one very very scary thought. My boys would be 13 and 12. Far too young to lose a parent. I’m definitely not taking care of my health as well as I should be and plan to make changes in that area. Mortality is suddenly front and centre in my life.
I met Valerie in an online group for mums. We didn’t meet when we had our babies but shortly thereafter and over the years she has shared tidbits of what she went through in her first marriage and now she has agreed to share her story.
I am astounded at the courage she has shown to go through that and come out the other side the woman she is today. She is sharing her story in the hopes that it will be able to reach someone who is in the same situation and help them to find the courage to get out. She is certainly not what you would think of as a typical victim which just goes to show that there is no typical in family violence. It could be happening to anyone. Chances are it’s happening to someone you know right now and you wouldn’t have the faintest idea. Statistics show that 1 in 3 women experience physical and/or sexual violence from a partner in their lifetime. That is a very scary statistic.
I’m a cat person. I am. I have to confess that right off the bat.
I never grew up with dogs, only cats so when I was old enough to make my own decisions I ‘encouraged’ my now husband that we needed to get a dog. In all honesty, I’d just come back from a big overseas adventure in Europe and was quite possibly just bored and looking for something new to inject a bit of excitement into my return to an everyday mundane routine.
Jessi and I met when we both became pregnant at the same time in 2010 and due in the same month, July 2011. We bonded over our difficulties in conceiving and our friendship just grew from there. We were in the same online birth group for our first born sons and I have had the pleasure of meeting her and her wonderful family several times. She is such a beautiful soul who doesn’t deserve this heartache but sadly she is not alone on this journey. I have met several women who have gone (or are going through) the same thing.
Miscarriage is one of those silent topics that many women are ashamed to talk about for fair of being belittled.
It’s a tapestry of emotions and life events quilted together to tell a story.
We have bright patches of colour in happier times and more subdued colours in sadder times. Some people’s tapestries are brighter than others and some are duller but every persons quilt is unique and everyone’s lives are made up of a million different events sewn together to tell their individual story.
MOJO:A quality that attracts people to you and makes you successful and full of energy.
I’ve had some mega mojo missing lately, especially when it comes to writing.
It got to the point that I couldn’t even look at my blog. Just logging into my dashboard filled me with a sense of anxiety because I just had no idea what to write about and actually, I didn’t even want to try! Has anyone been there? Where you have a responsibility (even if it’s not really a responsibility but it just feels like one) and you can’t stand the idea of it?
Usually I’m very organised with a blog post for a Tuesday morning which is the one day of the week that I can somehow squeeze a post in between the madness at home and my day to day job (no, I’m not repeating myself! The madness at home and my actual WORK. Yes, I know the two can be easily confused).
Last night however, I ‘briefly’ popped online with the intention to buy a few plates and bowls to replace the ones I smashed and instead I walked away (ahem, entered my credit card details to purchase!) pretty much everything BUT.
Forget KonMari. The other night I took my de-cluttering mission to the next level!
We’re in the process of building a brand new kitchen. This means walls, ceilings, floors and all! Of course, before that can happen we first had to remove everything to demolish the old one. So armed with 5 large plastic storage containers the hubby and I started to pull everything out one by one and decide whether or not we would keep the item or throw it away.
Unless you are a Kiwi (or an Aussie who understands Kiwi slang), some of this post may sound like a load of gibberish! This wasn’t intentional, it’s just the way it worked out. Hence I have now added a list of Kiwi Slang to the bottom of this post to enlighten you. Or amuse you. Or confuse you. This may be particularly helpful to my UK and US readers! But first, here is the original post …
I’ve had the weirdest feeling of déjà vu lately with certain moments or things sending me on a trip down memory lane.