Today, I thought I would share with you something that I wrote earlier this year. I know many women have miscarriages, or lost a child at a very young age. Even though those children have gone before they got here, they are still in our hearts forever. This was written with that in mind.
A little angel walks with me
everywhere I go.
She’s there in times of sadness,
and times when I don’t know.
She strokes my hair to comfort
and gives a guiding hand.
I miss her every single day,
but some won’t understand.
Although I cannot see her,
she’s still a part of me.
Her brothers feel her presence,
our little absentee.
I’m sure the cat can see her –
he won’t sit on her chair.
One day I’ll see my Angel,
till then, she knows I care.
©Ruth Raymer 2011
Today we ventured out for a few hours of respite from decorating ‘teen daughter’s’ bedroom. It was to be a leisurely wander around a car-boot sale; no smells of paint fumes, no dust around the whole house, just a bit of time to recoup our energies and relax.
How wrong can you be! One minute we were walking along a row of stalls, minding our own business, next minute my stomach is in knots. I feel like I am going to throw up on the spot. I am shaking and tearful.
What happened you ask?
A fight broke out. Not what you expect to see on a Saturday morning boot sale. I think what caught me off my guard more than anything though, was the sound of a woman screaming and going to, getting stuck in with the attacker and then in between the two men who were fighting.
I used to be very accustomed to the feelings this provoked in me – the fear and panic, the utter revulsion, however in the last twenty-seven years or so I have not had to deal with the like. I had put to the back of my mind the effects of seeing my parents trying to physically harm one another. I had lain to rest the sounds of them shouting and screaming.
This morning, it all came roaring back, like a freight train running into my chest. I forgot to breathe for a moment or two. Then I heard the sounds of a child crying and even now, some hours later, I’m not sure if that was a child at the boot sale or the child in my memory. I managed to regain my outward composure and carried on moving, albeit slowly. All I wanted was to make sure that my kids were ok.
I never, ever want them to feel what I felt today. I will move heaven and earth to protect them from the terror that is domestic violence. Most of all, I want to thank my husband who quietly and without question, understood my need to gather our kids close to me for a while.
Tomorrow we’ll try a walk in the woods – should be more peaceful at least!
For many of us Mums, today or perhaps tomorrow marks the start of the Summer Holidays, that 6 week epic break from school that we either love or hate.
I fall into the first of those categories. I love having our kids at home; being able to do things with them, even if that means that on a rainy day we spend the day huddled in the living room with a pile of goodies and a stack of DVDs.
When your kids are tiny, you just don’t realise how bereft you will feel when they go to school, so I cherish every day of that six weeks as the most time I get to spend with them, uninterrupted by school bells and uniforms. I only have four of my ‘little ones’ left at home, ranging from 10 years old to 17 (but add dear daughter and darling grandson into the mix too, for good measure on some days).
This summer, we are going to decorate one of the bedrooms – ‘teen daughter’ has been waiting patiently for her turn of the paint roller to come around. That should take us roughly one week of the hols. We work as a gang – some will be stripping whilst others are sanding or washing and so on. Last summer we did both of the boys’ bedrooms and I think we all had fun along the way. Not sure how the lads are going to feel about being spattered with bubblegum pink paint, but it should make for some hilarity when we hit the beach, if we hit the beach but that of course needs some reasonable weather.
Other plans for the holidays are trips on the train to London perhaps or to visit one of the Uncles in the midlands. Family Railcards
are an amazing piece of kit – we get to travel all over the place for a fraction of what it would ordinarily cost.
When you are trooping at least four of your little darlings around with you (up to a few years ago it was up to seven of them), every penny counts, especially on trips to London.
To be fair, my tribe are great kids, they don’t make demands, unreasonable or otherwise and are happy to mostly do whatever comes along. The museums in the capital make for a good day out on a shoestring budget – as long as you take a picnic of course.
More soon on our plans for the summer, but right now, it’s time to collect some banana boxes so that ‘teen daughter’ can start to pack away all of her worldly belongings. The strippers move in on Monday morning – 8am sharp!