Alice... what's the matter?

Wish you were here

November 12, 2015
It’s my birthday month and I love a good birthday, I always have. You gave me that love of birthdays.

Anniversaries and significant dates are always going to be tricky… or interesting… or devastating. I am swinging wildly between them emotionally. One minute I am absolutely fine and having a laugh… and then suddenly something catches me off-guard and I’m reminded that I will will never see you or speak to you again, Mum.

I know I’m incredibly lucky to have had the years with you that I did, knowing that you were there thinking about me and always wanting the best for me.

I don’t want to diminish the lovely people that are still in my life. I’m grateful for each and every one of them and the love they have for me, I just don’t want you to be gone.

Tonight, for example. I had a fun evening out with my friends. Then I came home and I opened the post. There was a brochure for clothes that arrived today and it’s stuff that I like, so I was leafing through the pages and thinking “no, there’s nothing I particularly want… (this is probably a good thing)” …and then I spotted something that two years ago I would have bought you for Christmas, and I thought “ooh, that would be good for Mum, she’d like that!”

………………………oh.

Mum.

I wish you were here.

So, so you think you can tell…
Heaven from hell,

blue skies from pain?
Can you tell a green field

from a cold steel rail?
A smile from a veil?

Do you think you can tell?

Did they get you to trade

your heroes for ghosts?
Hot ashes for trees?

Hot air for a cool breeze?
Cold comfort for change?

And did you exchange
A walk-on part in the war

for a lead role in a cage?

How I wish,

how I wish you were here
We’re just two lost souls

swimming in a fish bowl,

year after year.
Running over the same old ground…

and how we found
the same old fears;

Wish you were here.

“Wish you were here” – by Roger Waters / Dave Gilmour / Jon David
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Song of the open road

November 4, 2016
This is for a good friend, with all my love.

“Song of the open road” by Walt Whitman

I do not offer the old smooth prizes, but offer rough new prizes.

These are the days that must happen to you:

You shall not heap up what is called riches, you shall scatter with lavish hand all that you earn or achieve.

However sweet the laid-up stores, however convenient the dwellings, you shall not remain there.

However sheltered the port, and however calm the waters, you shall not anchor there.

However welcome the hospitality that welcomes you, you are permitted to receive it but a little while.

Afoot and lighthearted, take to the open road.

Healthy, free, the world before you; the long brown path before you, leading wherever you choose.
Say only to one another:

Camerado, I give you my hand!

I give you my love, more precious than money,

I give you myself before preaching or law:

Will you give me yourself?

Will you come travel with me?

Shall we stick by each other as long as we live?

Poem by Walt Whitman
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#BreastCancerRealityCheck–October 1, 2016

September 26, 2016
Tired of the misinformation, the cliches, the “feel-good” stories we’re bombarded with each October, Breast Cancer Awareness Month? Want to tell YOUR truth about what it’s R…

Source: #BreastCancerRealityCheck–October 1, 2016
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A thousand tiny moments

July 18, 2016
I can reproduce the sound of your voice in my head,

As I walk, you talk; I imagine your smile.

And though you are no longer sharing this air,

It smells sweet, and reminds me of you.

When a pleasing thought that occurs to me

Is something that we should have shared,

Though it brings me such a breathless ache,

Fighting its grasp makes me feel more alive.

A spooky connection through the universe often

connected us in thought, before joining us digitally.

But you’re not on the end of a telephone, now.

What I need to tell you, instead I must write.

Your thoughtful listening and lack of ego

Allowed many to seek your kind comfort

And your earnest countenance made all the greater

the pleasure of a shared joke with you.

My proudest or most exciting moments

are ones that I can only tell one parent now

I yearn to tell each tale again, anticipating your thoughts,

but my cheerleading squad is depleted.

Our time with you was all too short.

“Well, I’d better let you go”, you would say.

But you are much more than a memory – you are still here,

and witness to a thousand tiny moments of my joy.
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Your story

May 29, 2015
It hurts our hearts that you are gone,

and this is now the end

of the story of a wife, a mother,

grandma, sister, friend.

You’re spoken of in such fond ways,

by everyone you’ve met.

Your kindness and your lovely smile

they never will forget.

You’re still here in our photos

and in voicemails on our phones.

We can read your cards and letters,

so we don’t feel so alone.

We have memories of happier times,

when we were all together…

and keep your story front of mind;

you’re in our hearts forever.

Poem by AliceWhatsTheMatter

(A.K.A. PrincessPea & A.K.A Jools)
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