finished off some rum that i found and think of my sis rubi who is no longer.
got to get up and get kids to school in the morning.
she was so damn ill.
it was sick how ill she was.
we somehow believed she was getting better.
but one day she got this dreadful diagnosis then it descended into a mayhem of chemotherapy; bone marrow transplants and general misery.
she was so ill. it is so unfair.
i really thought she was gonna pull through, get better and we could start up where we left off.
but instead we have a mound of flowers and a huge bill.
i can't believe how life and death comes down to money.
it's sick the way it all ends.
maybe just for us left behind. i don't know.
Monday, 5 March 2012
Sunday, 4 March 2012
sister back to uni
went to Brighton to see youngest sister off to university her first time back since our eldest sister left this mortal coil. Didn't get to the seafront but had lunch in a pub then saw her digs- very cosy, then a rainy sleepy drive back to London. Now back in rainy new cross.
this is a very odd time in which it is difficult to imagine feeling any enthusiasm for life what so ever.
i am hoping i can get simple things done like kids fed, washed and dressed and off to school on time.
then begins the very sad fact of needing to gather together things belonging to our sister and shifting them from her old flat.
i will have to steel myself to help with this and it will be very difficult. it makes my stomach turn just thinking of how we will do this and how it will ram home again, the fact i cannot bring myself to accept.
two of my sisters went to visit her final resting place - of sorts- and said that it was strange and felt wrong.
i too will go but am not really looking forward to it.
on the day she was left there i had to drink whisky to create a veil between me and the truth of the reality in front of me.
i don't feel i can get back to normal.
this is a very odd time in which it is difficult to imagine feeling any enthusiasm for life what so ever.
i am hoping i can get simple things done like kids fed, washed and dressed and off to school on time.
then begins the very sad fact of needing to gather together things belonging to our sister and shifting them from her old flat.
i will have to steel myself to help with this and it will be very difficult. it makes my stomach turn just thinking of how we will do this and how it will ram home again, the fact i cannot bring myself to accept.
two of my sisters went to visit her final resting place - of sorts- and said that it was strange and felt wrong.
i too will go but am not really looking forward to it.
on the day she was left there i had to drink whisky to create a veil between me and the truth of the reality in front of me.
i don't feel i can get back to normal.
Friday, 2 March 2012
my daughters birthday tomorrow and i feel quite bleak. the days are so slack and with no elastic, no give. we got the phonecall and nothing will ever be the same. i have managed to get through this day on the adrenaline of preparing a last minute party for amelie and cousins/ extended family but i really feel quite miserable and sad and comfort-less.
i have not had enough wine to help this.
i don't think any more wine will help anyway.
i woke this morning at 4 and lay awake. i could not sleep so got up to tidy up a bit. i switched on the radio and a song called sister heroine was playing with words like - god took you away.... if you are looking down on me, i love you, i love you.....
i felt momentarily warm and comforted and that stayed with me some of the day but now the sorrow has crept back in to my chest and the coldness of not having you permeates everywhere.
i am so sad.
i have not had enough wine to help this.
i don't think any more wine will help anyway.
i woke this morning at 4 and lay awake. i could not sleep so got up to tidy up a bit. i switched on the radio and a song called sister heroine was playing with words like - god took you away.... if you are looking down on me, i love you, i love you.....
i felt momentarily warm and comforted and that stayed with me some of the day but now the sorrow has crept back in to my chest and the coldness of not having you permeates everywhere.
i am so sad.
Thursday, 1 March 2012
time will not heal
i hate those words right now, i don't want time to heal this gaping wound.
i hate that time marches on and it's weeks since my sister went from me.
time is solid like thick invisible bricks
and i daydream about heaven.
'space is infinite' my sweet son tells me.
and i think time is something we don't understand.
the priest told us Rachel is at a massive jazz cafe type world influenced music banquet.
i like to think of that and imagine that she is at a banquet like he said, where there is no fear of hangovers; cancer; murder; addiction, death. i like to think she can see us here weeping and stony faced with grief and with her old Scottish auntie Mary and her grand ma Margaret (when she's not jamming with Bob Marley and Amy Winehouse or getting deep with Jesus or dancing with Mary(the virgin) or hanging out with Charles dickens and giving him writing advice, i like to think then that she sees us and smiles wanly. cause she knows that it will be just a minute until we see her because we don't understand time. i mean we see stars that have been dead for some time -i think- we don't know about time. she is sad for us but not a sadness that we understand it is a sadness that has no anxiety to it.
Rachel you are here with me while i write this, i think i feel your comforting loving arms on my shoulder you can see me and you are telling me do not be afraid. i think you are my Jesus.
it's just in the daytime rach when i drive through the streets i thought were mine and they are alien, and life feels like a weight around my neck; a sentence that i must endure until i die. and the injustice of us not having you is so unfair i want to stamp my feet and cry like a baby.
i think of maddie macann's parents how they live in a death since their baby disappeared.
i don't know why i think of them but i suppose i think of how they have to carry on even with their relationship. Stephen Lawrence - i know rachel will have met him (and Emily Dickinson and everyone all the victorian street urchins; everyone -
then i suddenly think of how will everyone fit in heaven. my heaven is clearly very eurocentric plus america.
then i imagine all the trillions of people from the beginning of time and the banquet would be really odd.
i have had some wine so this heaven has been easier to contemplate. but i know that in the day in the cruel light of day that i have to endure the opaque deafeningly silent and unanswerable skies. if i call out your name there is no answer just the silence after my cry. it reminds me of the depressing and miserable psalms in the bible. 'i am crying out in the wilderness lord, why won't you answer me' etc etc and i just think why won't you answer me god, rachel. just answer. but there is nothing.
i don't know.
i hate that time marches on and it's weeks since my sister went from me.
time is solid like thick invisible bricks
and i daydream about heaven.
'space is infinite' my sweet son tells me.
and i think time is something we don't understand.
the priest told us Rachel is at a massive jazz cafe type world influenced music banquet.
i like to think of that and imagine that she is at a banquet like he said, where there is no fear of hangovers; cancer; murder; addiction, death. i like to think she can see us here weeping and stony faced with grief and with her old Scottish auntie Mary and her grand ma Margaret (when she's not jamming with Bob Marley and Amy Winehouse or getting deep with Jesus or dancing with Mary(the virgin) or hanging out with Charles dickens and giving him writing advice, i like to think then that she sees us and smiles wanly. cause she knows that it will be just a minute until we see her because we don't understand time. i mean we see stars that have been dead for some time -i think- we don't know about time. she is sad for us but not a sadness that we understand it is a sadness that has no anxiety to it.
Rachel you are here with me while i write this, i think i feel your comforting loving arms on my shoulder you can see me and you are telling me do not be afraid. i think you are my Jesus.
it's just in the daytime rach when i drive through the streets i thought were mine and they are alien, and life feels like a weight around my neck; a sentence that i must endure until i die. and the injustice of us not having you is so unfair i want to stamp my feet and cry like a baby.
i think of maddie macann's parents how they live in a death since their baby disappeared.
i don't know why i think of them but i suppose i think of how they have to carry on even with their relationship. Stephen Lawrence - i know rachel will have met him (and Emily Dickinson and everyone all the victorian street urchins; everyone -
then i suddenly think of how will everyone fit in heaven. my heaven is clearly very eurocentric plus america.
then i imagine all the trillions of people from the beginning of time and the banquet would be really odd.
i have had some wine so this heaven has been easier to contemplate. but i know that in the day in the cruel light of day that i have to endure the opaque deafeningly silent and unanswerable skies. if i call out your name there is no answer just the silence after my cry. it reminds me of the depressing and miserable psalms in the bible. 'i am crying out in the wilderness lord, why won't you answer me' etc etc and i just think why won't you answer me god, rachel. just answer. but there is nothing.
i don't know.
this is too bad
i am caked in sludge. i am afraid i am consumed with dead grief.
spring was here today and i have never liked its approach less.
the misty air and people appearing more jaunty and clothed in fewer things are so at odds with the immense sorrow i have on my chest suffocating me.
i can hear neighbours in my adjacent garden scraping shovels and welcoming the sunshine back.
while my garden contains the beauty of renewed life the depression within me cannot love it.
not while my sister lies far away and i only have images of her but not her.
how dear god will i manage to go on?
my sons first birthday was some days ago and i managed eventually to celebrate it. it was quite easy as he had no idea and by the evening i was able to bake a cake and blow up ballons.
my daughters birthday is on saturday.
i have alreasy abandoned my idea of hiring a local hall for a massive party.
how can i do this?
she will be five.
but i am afraid i won't be able to do it.
i pray for strength.
spring was here today and i have never liked its approach less.
the misty air and people appearing more jaunty and clothed in fewer things are so at odds with the immense sorrow i have on my chest suffocating me.
i can hear neighbours in my adjacent garden scraping shovels and welcoming the sunshine back.
while my garden contains the beauty of renewed life the depression within me cannot love it.
not while my sister lies far away and i only have images of her but not her.
how dear god will i manage to go on?
my sons first birthday was some days ago and i managed eventually to celebrate it. it was quite easy as he had no idea and by the evening i was able to bake a cake and blow up ballons.
my daughters birthday is on saturday.
i have alreasy abandoned my idea of hiring a local hall for a massive party.
how can i do this?
she will be five.
but i am afraid i won't be able to do it.
i pray for strength.
no school
i am wide awake and the kids are too except my girl who has finally fallen asleep on the sofa. my two boys and man are still awake. i went to the local shop for more wine. i am not ready to be clear minded and will not send the children to school tomorrow the grave is too fresh in my mind. i hate the way they look with a mound of mud on top. the grave diggers hover like vultures. it is so cruel the mix of this with the lofty heaven of saying goodbye. so primitive are our customs.
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