Healing

Random thought of the day.

Healing is NOT an overnight process. It takes time. Sometimes you’ll feel like you’re finally starting to heal and you’re happy again, the wound will reopen. Don’t give up, don’t get discouraged, some wounds will never heal completely. Take each day 1 step at a time and just try to be in a better place mentally than you were yesterday.

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Would you? Would I?

Would you recognise me?

Life with all its troubles, all its joys, all its sadness, all its smiles and all it’s laughter, changes you, changes me.

With every frown, every smile, a new line of experience forms beautifully on your skin, my skin.

Every tear, every loss, every grief, darkens the light glowing from your soul, my soul. It echoes in your eyes, my eyes, fading that twinkle that once radiated life.

With every comfort eat, adding inches to your waist, my waist or with pain so deep, you just can’t swallow, loosing your cuddliness, my cuddliness, as the inch’s fall away.

Would you recognise me?

More importantly, do I ?

Love wins

People mess up, mistakes, huge earth shattering mistakes happen, anger burns deep within our souls and deeper within our hearts. 

Darkness surrounds the once shining light of happiness as the soul bleeds out tears of despair. 

But within the suffocation, love holds strong, fighting, willing and longing to be the strongest emotion. 

Pushing up, lighting the darkness, forgiving the unforgivable.

Love wins.

It wasn’t jealous, it’s something totally different

It wasn’t jealous, it’s something totally different. It was a pull on the heart-strings watching mother and son connect so beautifully, a connection I had only dreamt of.
A bond so special you could feel it by just being in the room with them.
I hadn’t felt that feeling before and while it made my heart ache just a little knowing I had never had that, it warmed my soul to see such a special relationship, I felt pride and overpowering love for the man who stood before me and his loving union he shared with his Mum.
When she opened her heart to me, not only as a friend but as kind of  a daughter, it was overwhelmingly special, a connection I didn’t know I was missing.
That wonderful time in my life, I felt more at home than I ever had before, I felt complete, alive, in love, at home.
A feeling I’m sure only comes to a few in a lifetime.
How lucky I was to have felt that if only for a while.

And now we’re really cooking with gas.

There’s nothing quite like sitting around with friends having great conversations over a delicious meal. Add some wine or beer (because we’re fancy like that) and now we’re really cooking with gas.

There is something special about sitting around the table to eat the meal you have just slaved away at for hours so you can fill you friends and family’s tummy’s.
Every week we make a point of all getting together for a good old feast, a chinwag and what every drink tickles your fancy.
We’ve been doing this since I returned from Paris and I have to say it’s probably the best day of the week for Marly-Kate and I.
Marly-Kate loves having everyone around, they all give her so much love, attention and time, to her they are her family.
That’s the main reason we started our feast night, so Marly-Kate could get a sense of what family life feels like.
As it just her and me and of course my baby cousin, it’s so easy just to slump in front of the tv with your dinner on your lap. I don’t want that for her, I want her to feel how dinner time should really feel.
The conversation, the smell of homemade food, the smiles, the laughter, the warm feeling that you get when all the family comes together, I want her to experience that and to hold warm memories.
Also when we get to eat good old dominos while chilling in-front of the tv, it’s special in its own way. 🍕

Though our family is spread over thousands of miles from Devon to Paris to Spain it’s not always easy to show her what family really means, that’s why feast night is so very important.
She understands that family isn’t all about blood, that it’s about the people who are never far from your side, it’s about the people who are there through the good and the bad, it’s about friendship, respect and love.
Family to us is coming together and enjoying a good meal not forced by blood but because we actually want to spend time together.

Who has the songs to sing to me when I am blue?

Who has the tenderness of a mother?
Who has the wisdom of a schoolteacher?
Who has the tricks of the magician?
Who has the ability to see the world through a child’s eye?
Who has the stories about Mum and Dad?
Who has always loved me no matter what I do?
Who has the songs to sing to me when I am blue?
Of course, it is my Grandma,
And I love you and you blessed my life!
(Catherine Pulsifer)

I’m constantly being called a granny because I crochet. But if all granny’s warm hearts like my granny sure did, I don’t mind being called a granny at all.

My great gran was the most exceptional lady I have ever had the pleasure of meeting.
Her warm heartfelt hugs as I snuggled into lap as she read me poems, story’s and sang the most enchanting Irish songs, in her sweet Irish accent, there was no place I would rather have been.
Her sweetie pot filled with humbugs next to her comfy armchair always filled so that her grandchildren could have that sweet treat that our parents would only allow on pocket-money day.
She would sit and listen to every word we spoke no matter the rubbish that would pour out as mouths.
She truly listened and even though she was a Victorian child at heart and the world had changed in front of her eyes, she would do her up most to try to understand the modern world and help to put life’s troubles into prospective, she would put the world to rights just by being her and opening her arm to give us the hug that protected us from the monsters under our beds.
She loved with her whole heart, her time was solely ours, her love unconditional.
There is truly no one like a granny.
She was my first ever heartbreak and I miss her terribly, her smile, her wisdom, her voice, her hugs.

While people take the piss that I make crochet blankets, hats or what ever they ask for, I do it out of love, friendship and respect for the person I’m gifting it to. With every piece I create, a sense of pride fills my soul and I feel as though I have actually achieved something.
Since life grow extremely hard, I feel I really don’t have a purpose, I have this humongous hole in my life, that can only be filled by the love of my life, with that emptiness eating away at me I have to try to do anything to give myself a little peace, a little sense of achievement, a little pride. Creating a keepsake, an heirloom that I call, a hug in a box, I feel I’m giving out a little love, that in person, I struggle to give. So even though people tease me, call me granny, I really don’t mind because granny’s give the best hugs.👵🏻