April begins

Suddenly it’s April. I’m back to my normal routine of -:

Weekends drive down to stay in my Oxwich beach chalet, for daily beach walks to blow my cobwebs away and feel close to mum.

Tuesday drive to Cardiff to see one son’s grandchildren, spend time with my daughter in law, meet : grandkids from school, stay overnight, spending the evening with my son if he’s not working silly hours,.

Wednesday take grandkids to school after breakfast together, including Isaac who is 5 with Trysomy9 syndrome, drive back to Brecon to my husband, Drive to my Samaritan evening duty.

Thursday and Friday look after my other sons son who is 4 with our familiar routines of Hay market and playground, fish and chips, Friday swimming and out with Friends in the evening.

Saturday morning drive down the Swansea valley, drop in on my younger son and partner , sometimes go somewhere quirky for lunch then on to Oxwich for more beach walking and beach combing. Often my younger son and my youngest grandson stay overnight on Sunday and go early to school and work on Monday morning. Just chill out together and play on the beach.

Sometimes I feel nomadic but weirdly this moving lifestyle suits me. I have time with everyone I love and time to myself and have returned to yoga and tai chi recently. I need all of these elements at the moment.

Into the mix of all this add yoga days with Rose on the Gower, swimming in the cold sea with the Port Eynon Seabirds when I can and my eldest son has renovated a house in Saundersfoot, Pembrokeshire for me to visit close to a beach and life moves on again. I seem to feel comfort and stillness in movement .

Negative things like my health and other’s health problems can be coped with when I’m helping others. I’m sure if other people analysed this they would find another conclusion! This is what I can control.

October swimming in the sea and giving up meat and dairy

It’s just the beginning of my new healthy diet and in one way it’s easy but in another it’s hard. I’m always having to think what I’m eating and drinking. Surprisingly hydration is more difficult than I thought. I’ve added an apple cider drink with honey as a friend suggested that this might help my psoriasis. Worth a try. I also am drinking a tincture made for me. I’m loving eating more fish and roasting veggies, particularly butternut squash. My biggest problem is giving up goat and sheep cheese. Tried vegan cheese – yuck. One good thing is it’s also about me. I didn’t accept the fact that most of every day my thoughts are about my family not me. I have gone through a time of not caring about me just wanting to help others and thought that was the right path for me, but sometimes I think I need a rest from that. Also I am in control of my diet no one else. So it’s entirely up to me. But failure will also be mine and no one else’s fault. It truly tests my willpower. I’ve never stuck to any diet before. It will be a first.

Last night was a Hunter’s moon and I swam in the sea with the Port Eynon Seabirds in the evening- another first in largish waves. I was quite nervous. But I did it although it was cold at first in the wind just in a swimsuit. Keeping within my depth was a challenge. When I came out it was fabulous, such a buzz. Such a lovely group of women who I’m just getting to know. One new person I met for the first time told me she’s an arts therapist- something I’d love to do. She encouraged me to look at diploma courses again – she trained in London.

I’ve returned to yoga and am loving it. Trying to do a bit on line as well as a weekly class. It helps in more ways than just the physical. This weekend I visited an amazing event – The Red Dress. A wonderful dress embroidered by groups and individuals around the globe from communities with diverse situations. It was magical seeing the dress up close as well as the talk and film by the artist Kirstie Macleod. Very inspiring. I’m determined to take part in the local response of making a shawl from 4-6 inch squares. My idea is clear in my head so hopefully I can start it next week. I’m going to buy a piece of red material as a base, then embroider a landscape line and a shell and spinning Jenny. Perhaps also a bit of appliqué too. I’d like to make the same working on tissue paper. I feel quite excited.

Second eye operation in August 2022 and back to the beach and sea.

I just can’t believe that I have convinced myself to have my right eye operated on but the results from the first eye op were so amazing I thought yes let’s do it. I need two good eyes to see the world. My blood pressure was surprisingly high even though I was calmer on the outside. I knew that the anaesthetist was going to inject into my eye and who in their right mind would let him do that. Crazy! But I did and it was bearable.I breathed my anxiety away and hoodwinked my nerves and I survived it. Still when I could see the anaesthetist’s face and the syringe and needle it is most bizarre. The “ hand holder” was a wonderful sister who was calm and in charge, making me feel at ease. Once again I didn’t need a sedative, just will power. It was soon over. Routine to them but ginormous to me. Again the whole procedure felt surreal, as if it was someone else having this operation. It didn’t feel real. My grandkids were intrigued for a bit but soon returned to their games when I returned to them. It was very hot.I had a little double vision for 2 days then everything was in high definition in both eyes! Wow. No fuzzy bits, just crystal clear. Beautiful.

Back in Oxwich was just delightful and I managed to “talk “ to mum when I walked along the sand dunes. It was now very busy at weekends once it was scorching. I had new windows and door in the chalet, followed by new guttering and soffits, so it feels properly maintained and future proofed. Started doing yoga on You Tube as my back is so stiff. I hope I can be more flexible if I keep it up. My hands were really bad with redness around spots with yellow heads on – horrid and so sore I couldn’t close my right hand. I was given antibiotics as they seemed infected which helped quickly. I just don’t get what sets these flare ups off. Frustrating. Lots of family staying and visiting me in my beach house which is uplifting my spirits. Playing with small children is affirming, life will go on here when I’m gone. They will come here with their children. At least I can leave them this legacy as well as memories of our time here. It’s a pity C doesn’t like coming here. I feel lovely and grounded here.

My identity game for the grand children

Oxwich

New BBQ

Today’s collection

Walking through the woods

Testing the new bench

Looking for dragonflies

Painting sea urchins

Eye injection and operation survived in June

Today is 48 hours since my eye operation to remove cataracts and replace the lens. My eyesight has been deteriorating quickly since Christmas so when I went for an extra eye test it wasn’t a huge surprise when the optician told me I needed this operation. I knew I needed help but I wished I could have a general anaesthetic not local. Naturally I read everything I could find and when I saw the consultant I was still hoping for a general not local. I was advised against a general so reluctantly accepted this. The consultant put me at my ease and didn’t come across as pompous or arrogant. He listened to my anxieties. At this point I still didn’t think I had the inner strength to go through with it.

I spoke to a relative’s sister who had recently gone through it and she answered my questions honestly about her experience. That helped, but my dread continued eating away at me as I waited for the operation day. Then my op was put back a week. Then I caught Covid for the first time and only tested negative one day before the window for the operation but I had lived in fear of what Covid might unleash on me, fear of giving it to my family, fear that the op would be cancelled or postponed, fear of someone injecting into my eye. I was quite a mess inside my head.

So I had to convince myself that these guys were experts, had done this operation loads of times so it was routine to them. I had to give them complete control over me for less than an hour. How easy that sounds. Mental battles with yourself are awful. Even when you win you also lose. The last ten days were the worse, but at least I didn’t have Covid. Thank goodness for tennis on the TV- Queens, Eastbourne and the beginning of Wimbledon. Plus new episodes of Borgen to begin on Netflix. I felt exhausted. And I hadn’t even set foot in the hospital yet.

My main problem was the anaesthetic and it was truly strange. After eye drops to numb the surface of the eye the anaesthetist injects into the eye around the back of the eye to numb the whole eye socket from the eyebrow to the cheekbone. I had read about it so I knew what happens, but was surprised when I had to look up towards him and could see him and the hyperdermic needle. The image will stay with me forever. But I kept super still and with some discomfort and not a sharp pain it was done. We then had to wait a little time so just chatted! I kept my self together by breathing steadily and telling myself this will soon be over, holding the nurse’s hand, listening to the surgeon as he was really encouraging. I could see lights and hear the lazer but no pain, more of a sensation or pressure when he was working on the cataract. Every so often he would quietly say – stay absolutely still no sudden movements so I presume he was doing the tricky bits like putting in the new lens. I was in the theatre at 11am, out before 12 , had lunch then after some blood pressure checks off we went. I had an eye guard on but they had removed the dressing amazingly. Unbelievably I just have to put eye drops in 4 times a day for 3-4 weeks and that’s it, assuming there’s no after effects- my new eye lens is there to stay. I can’t believe it. Yesterday everything was blurry, in the evening it’s like someone has switched on the high definition button. Colours are amazing, clarity perfect, just a little bit of a headache now and again which will pass once the anaesthetic wears off . The iris is now the usual size but I’m wearing sunglasses outside for protection. Very cool. I’ve had my blood pressure checked again as it was a bit high even after the operation and that’s back to normal.

So I’m left with amazing eyesight through my new lens. I feel I have survived rather than been brave. It feels like it has happened to someone else- a bit surreal. I don’t feel elated just relieved. All that time wasted on fear. One funny thing that happened was that the nurse wheeled me from my room to the theatre in a wheelchair. As we turned the corner she took me to the lift to go down one floor. I smiled as I had to stop myself from telling her I had a phobia of lifts, a deep fear…… I closed my eyes and just listened to her chatting away to me. I survived that too!

April walking and swimming and Ukraine

My walking has become a meditation when I feel truly myself mostly on the long sweeping beach at Oxwich Bay. It’s wonderfully underdeveloped, just sand dunes and sea. They’ve banned the launch of jet skis so no droning wasp sounds in the evening. I prefer watching the amazing kite surfers when it’s windy and paddle boarders when it’s calm. Each week my grandson and I explore the rock pools and paddle in the curling waves, giving me the best feeling ever. He’s a very special little person. Every time I pick up an interesting shell I think of my gran and mum. I can see them both bending from the waist absorbed in their search on so many beaches in my life. Shells and stones are so beautiful to look at and draw, taking you somewhere calm and tranquil along this huge expanse of a seascape. The feel of their texture is like a comfort to me, helping to take worries away or at least accept them. A moment of calm. I love looking at the sea, however it is behaving. This month it has been different every weekend. It fascinates me. I’ve been in twice only to swim, it’s still mightily cold but zinging when you come out to dry. Paddling on the way back from my walk to Three Cliffs Bay continues to delight and is really good for my feet.

I met a lady and her son from Ukraine one Sunday as I walked past a holiday house singing ‘The wheels on the bus” to my grandson as he’d slipped into a rock pool and got squelchy wellies and socks when we saw a crab and we both got over excited. She spoke little English but explained that they had come from the centre of the country which was bombed by planes and she was so happy here. Her little boy was six and instantly played tag with Monty, chasing each other and standing on the gate watching the horses. The second time we saw her I took a welcome present of toiletries, nail varnish, hand cream, a Batman toothbrush and a sketch pad with pencils. They were delighted. Then as we returned from a walk she appeared with two sets of pyjamas for Monty. So lovely a gesture.

Swimming each week on a Friday in the local pool with Monty has been so good. He treats it like a play area, but along the way he has a strong kick and has the beginnings of a front crawl with his swimming aids. These weekly routines are important to us both. We finish off with an ice cream lolly and a soft play session in the pool cafe. Then it’s off to get fish and chips. The day is filled with joy.

We had a lovely egg rolling family get together on Easter Monday when all four grandchildren played together on the beach and we hid eggs outside my chalet for them to find. It was such a nice occasion, everyone eating, talking and playing together. Just being.

Missing mum but I’ve got to accept that sadness for a little longer.

My eldest grandchild in full flight

March happiness and sadness and eyes

This month I’m allowed back into my chalet in Oxwich. I am ridiculously excited and I went down there on the first weekend to open up properly and stay there. Like it wasChristmas again! When I arrived it was so calm and quiet, so special. I returned to my daily beach walks, the expanse of sand and sea and sky is liberating. So began my weekend visits, my little holidays. I am getting stronger at dealing with my grief, it doesn’t go away. I still miss my mum and dad, and recently gran and grandad. Just remembering our times together. Tears arrive unexpectedly from the strangest of triggers. Sadness pervades most days except when I’m with my sons and their families. I keep trying to find alternatives so as not to burden them. I attended two Over 50s wellness sessions in Swansea and a day session in Oxwich with Rose Fisher. Calming and challenging – thinking, talking and yoga balancing and breathing. On the day course in Oxwich we went swimming at lunchtime- my second cold water swim and it was even colder than in February! But just as exhilarating- what a blast! I haven’t had the courage to do this on my own yet. In the middle of March I collected my eldest granddaughter and took her to Oxwich for one night- her first away from home with me on her own. She completely rearranged the chalet and just brought such a smile to my face. She was having a ball. The following day we went to a jewellery workshop on the Gower. It was delightful. We had such a lovely time making necklaces and bracelets. She was in her element and just made things for her mum and friends so I made her a bracelet and necklace. She was so selfless and generous to others. This was one of my Christmas presents to her. A great success and so enjoyable. The only negative thing in March was my eye test when the optician said I needed glasses for driving an operation to remove cataracts from my eyes and new synthetic lenses. I went into a meltdown emotionally. The operation was one thing, loss of my sight another.

The dipping group at Oxwich

A morning dip 8.15am March 2022

January 2022 A month of celebrations, anniversaries and remembering

The New Year starts. I’m fearful and joyful about what January brings to my life. Celebrations come in the form of my youngest son’s 35th birthday, my estranged brother’s 72nd birthday, my son’s partner’s birthday (? 33), their 8th anniversary of their first date, a friend’s 68th birthday, my grandson’s 7th birthday and Mum’s death on the 25th two years ago. What a list. I can think of stories to go with each of these occasions that will make me laugh and those that will make me cry. Each is a bundle of memories unwrapped ready for their day. I’m trying to dwell on the positive memories as January is not a good month for negativity.

Drawing on January 2nd 2022

Christmas 2021

Christmas Day – wonderful to be with my youngest son and his family- didn’t want to leave the joy of my grandson.

Boxing Day – another wonderful day with both sons and their families – lots of food, noise and excitement, so much to see and admire, to enjoy. The children all together enjoying each other’s games and imaginings, delighting in each other. Play kitchens have been a hit, Sonic and Mario too. Walking in the park was so busy, uncomfortable, but two smiling three years olds on the swings soon faded that feeling. Tired. No one wanted to play cards or Rummikub sadly.

So now without grandkids I feel incomplete, but have many house jobs to do and books to read, cupboards to sort out, walks to do, if the rain allows me to. My sleep pattern needs sorting too. My brother and his partner have COVID-19 and so I’m worried as it is such an unpredictable disease – mild for some, life threatening for others. My dear American pen pal in South Dakota who has cancer was wonderfully surprised when I FaceTimed her on Christmas Day- she looked really good, it was lovely talking to her as if she was just down the road. Let’s hope that all the chemotherapy is worth it. Must get some sleep. I made it mum without you here. I almost feel guilty that I didn’t have a meltdown. I write this for you so you know what’s going on in our lives. I can’t stay in my Oxwich chalet until March so my long beach walks will be missed every day. I better get back to walking along the canal.

Roath Park in Cardiff on Boxing Day

Oxwich beach

My first beach find of sea glass – hoping for larger and colourful piece next time. It’s really hard to find.

A December drawing

Dear Mum- a second Christmas without you 2021

Dear Mum, Feeling emotional and it’s not quite Christmas yet! Choosing presents for other people, wrapping lovely things for my sons, my grandsons, my granddaughter, son’s partners – like my own daughters, my husband, my brother and his partner and friends, but not you my dearest mum. The one I have been with for 65 years, closer as the years passed. I so much wanted to choose loads of presents for you, surprise you, watch you open and enjoy them like before. I was doing so well, trying to live with my grief and loss, but not tonight. I am glad I am on my own tonight in one way so others don’t see me like this.

Earlier I was talking to you on the beach in Oxwich trying to work out how to get through this time without you. I thought the first Christmas would be the worst and did not expect this strength of emotion a year later for the second Christmas. I just have to remember the millions of great memories I have of our life together. And the future with my sons and grandchildren, watching them continue to grow into wonderful human beings. The time I have left has to continue to be about helping others. I am not important apart from what I do to help others in any small way I can. I don’t say this lightly, it is the reason for living.

Halloween and October holidays

This month I have enjoyed some great holidays, starting with our annual family gathering in Pembrokeshire at a gorgeous house in Saundersfoot. Twelve of us together, two sons with their families and my brother and his partner with me and my husband. Children everywhere delighted to be together. Wild abandon coupled with some coughs which spread through us all! Beach walking with donuts, talking, eating and playing, an early Halloween party and hot tubbing in the evening was joyous. I love to watch them all. Naturally my thoughts turned to missing mum. She loved this week together though her hearing made it difficult sometimes. I told everyone about my hearing aid which was strange, slightly embarrassing. I had a skin reaction to the hot tub, but it was worth it to sit overlooking the beach and town in the dark, even when some nights the rain fell, with some wine and having good conversation. It’s the only time that we get together now with my brother. It would have been wonderful if he had had kids.

The following week I travelled to Edinburgh with my brother. My week was split between Edinburgh and the Cairngorms. It was just great. Art galleries, restaurants, sightseeing, playing Canasta. The mountains were majestic, sometimes clothed in misty fog, rivers were edged with golden Autumnal trees. Dundee V&A was superb. Walking on Portobello beach was my usual delight. Unfortunately we all succumbed to the grandchildren’s bugs so had a few days battling with a cold and cough. But we survived.

My thoughts were with Cathy and her struggle with her horrible illness. I might be able to get out to America later this month if she’s well enough. We’ll see. My own life seems different somehow and I still get a feeling of disconnectedness, feeling like I’m somewhere else, a sadness really that I can explain but have no control over. Thinking about how long I might have left and what should I do, what difference I can make to my sons lives sometimes is confusing and sometimes is depressing. I can’t talk to anyone about this except in small chunks with my sons. It almost feels like I’m being self indulgent. Visiting Mum’s grave on the way to Scotland was very emotional and reminded me that bereavement is with us all of the time just in different concentrations. It can catch me out sometimes in its intensity. At other times it is a wonderful memory that makes me smile.