Pebble in a Pool

I am not a TV person at all but sometimes I sit down with Harry for an hour of chilling in front of the idiot box before we go to bed. Last evening, and I cannot even remember what programme it was but I suspect it might even have been a trailer for something, someone said ‘I wish I had never been born’. The outcome was that his wish was granted and as he walked through his world looking for familiar things and places he had built, empires of industry and people he had known, they were missing. As I said I am not a TV person at all but it made me think. ‘What if I had never been born’ ‘What impact have I had on the world?’
It made me think hard. I have eight children, fourteen grandchildren, soon to be fifteen and I suppose, if I hadn’t been born, the impact on everyone connected with these people would be different. I haven’t achieved anything great that would be reported in the news, I have achieved personal goals but would they impact on anyone else? Perhaps my children might have done things differently in their lives if I had not personal goals to aspire to. I think the one thing that I have achieved is that each of my children is a thoughtful and understanding person. They don’t fight with each other and they accept the difference between each other. Of course they have opinions and often have a little criticism of one another but none of them have ever fallen out. We have a great extended family with step children, half brothers and sisters and adopted children yet not one of my immediately family would ever call any of their siblings anything but brother and sister. If one needs a helping hand, there is always someone there to help them and most of all they are good people.
Does that constitute a something I have left in this world? It isn’t a building. It isn’t an empire. There are no credits for any amazing acts of sacrifice, generosity, kindness, yet, somewhere in the wake of my path through life there must have been changes, a difference to someone, an insight into something another person might want to achieve. I will never know I am sure but I like to look at my children and to see what they have achieved. You see I also take some credit, call it arrogance or whatever, but something I gave to each of my children gave them the strength to choose their paths in life and understand consequences. To make their own decisions knowing someone will support their decisions, right or wrong. They are musical, artistic, dramatists, they are good with other people, are understanding and supportive, some are strong against all adversity, some are sensitive to the simple things that a lot of folk never see, they love nature, appreciate the world around them, people or friends and care about someone they have never met but share a common interest. They are supportive to others, giving, caring and loving…. Roots and wings. I cried when they had left but smiled when I knew that I had supported them as people strong enough to be true to themselves, and to go out into the world with a strong sense of who they really are. I’ve made many mistakes but then I think, those mistakes have taught us all something.
So what have I left because I was here? What difference have I made in the world? I think I have made a big difference, I have children out there in Florida, Switzerland, Spain and the UK who are making their way in the world and I am sure they are making the same difference to those around them. They know how to listen, they are strong enough to survive against all adversity, they share their music with others and celebrate the joy of life with everyone, they believe in themselves but most of all, each and every one of them know who they are, where they belong and how to share a smile with a stranger…. Just in case they might be an angel in disguise. My impact on the world is just that…. and it could be the one thing that changes the world … a smile or a kindness to a stranger…. Well maybe, but each act of kindness that is spread because of me is like a pebble in a pool, may the ripples spread that thought in life’s never ending circle!

A Good Book

Ah, the weekend, time to relax, do some shopping and get on with some more writing. My book is coming to its conclusion now and apart from some editing, well, a lot of editing really, it has only a couple of thousand words to finish the first draft. I hope to get it completely done before we go on holiday. Then when we come back I can read it with fresh eyes.
I always feel sad when I finish things, it is really strange, when I read a good book and come to the end it’s like closing a chapter in my life and I miss the people I got to know in its pages. When I paint a picture, once again there is something missing once I have finished it, even the ironing… yes I know that’s really sad! but at the beginning of a great pile I have something to aim for, once it is completed I start wondering ‘what next’. It was the same when I went to university, how I loved it, having a purpose to aim for gave me direction. I was so proud when I completed it, the bonus was a 2.1, but then there was nothing, ok I went into teaching the subject I adored, English, but it wasn’t the same. The cruel twist came when arthritis robbed me of the ability to do even that, just one year before completing my teacher training.
Maybe that is why I am starting my next book as soon as I finish this one. I feel as though the characters are waiting for me to re-discover them. I know them already because I wrote them into a short story. Trouble was there was so much more to it that I couldn’t write under the restrictions of a short story so the ideas for developing it announced themselves. The characters have been calling me ever since I first gave them life and they gave me such a good excuse for my holiday…. Well I am doing some research aren’t I?
So looking back over my life I reckon I was born restless, with many things to do, to achieve. As I grew up I was a low achiever because of circumstances around me but I knew I wasn’t and now I have a drive to keep on proving to myself I am not that person. My friends laugh when I do the ironing but for me it is an escape into a fantasy world that sows the seeds for another story or poem. People say ‘oooh no studying isn’t for me, I hated school.’ will they ever know their full potential though. And those that allow a physical disability to affect the potential to develop their mind are wasting the fantastic excuse to achieve something wonderful. Meanwhile I shall continue to grow and aim for the goals I set myself. After all what is life but a time of pushing boundaries, learning and growing and I want to get out there and prove to myself and laugh in the face of everyone that said I couldn’t. The day I stop will be the last word of the last chapter in my life book and not until then will there be no more pages to turn but I hope that I might at least have sown the seeds of continuing personal development for the next generation.

Judgement thoughts.

I was thinking today about what I wrote yesterday about my great grandfather George Montague and his suicide and although I really felt for him I wonder if I did my grandmother justice by painting her as a strong domineering woman. I mean for anyone to take their life at all is such a tragedy, for someone to feel that low to seek suicide as the only answer must mean a state of mind so desperate it leaves behind many, many unanswered questions and, for those that are left behind, such unbearable pain. Inevitably someone is going to say, ‘was it my fault? Could I have stopped them or said something to make it better?’ I can’t help wondering what my great grandmother went through. What his children of 14 and 10 must have felt is unbearable to think of too. So I don’t pass his death off lightly but I need to look at the situation in another way.

She, married off to a gardener unable to read and write, must have felt cheated, especially if she liked her freedom. In those days divorce was unheard of and I guess one way of coping with an unhappy marriage is to spend time with someone else, ie her father. How difficult it must have been and how frustrating, here she was a woman of means with her own business and self sufficient financially. She tailored suits, coats, trousers and baby coats and was well thought of. She wanted for nothing her family were well to do and yet she was married to a penniless, jobless and illiterate man. One might suggest she drove him to it, maybe the letters were written by her telling him that she was leaving him, maybe he threatened suicide and she said ‘go ahead’. We will never know.

In reality, it comes down to making judgement, just as the Coroner did. Relationships in those days were far less fair than they are today, normally women didn’t have a say as it is supposed Sarah didn’t when she married George, so it is difficult to make a judgement without knowing all the circumstances. My Grandmother never spoke about it but she loved her Dad. It makes me wonder how many judgements we make today based on what we perceive to be our truth. Each one of us have been brought up differently with different values and as such are not or should not be in a position to make any judgements unless we are closely involved. It goes back to a favourite story of mine…. Ask five reporters to attend a large fire in the town and put in their reports the next day. No two reports will be the same. The facts will be identical but the thoughts and emotions of each individual will be totally unconnected.

Life today is full of judgements of one sort or another and they are all based on either hearsay or opinion, not necessarily one’s own. My partner refuses to take me to a certain country because he doesn’t like the people, I asked him exactly what it was that he didn’t like and it turned out it was a prejudice given him by his parents! Judgement! I believe we should all try something and make our own opinions, find out the facts before deciding and most of all never judge people by the way they look, what we have been told about them or because they don’t conform to our way of thinking. Today we are individuals living in a country where we have freedom of thought and voice, do we really have the right to force that opinion on others, either deliberately or subtly? Should we not be thinking before we open our mouths and give our opinions, particularly if they are biased against something . I think so… but then that is my opinion and others might think very differently…

Hmm thinking about this blog it sort of goes round in circles and is more of a discussion with myself … Does that mean I am going mad… no judgements now…xx

Certificates that tell a story

My task today was to look through various papers and try to marry up dates and information with the photographs I was sorting yesterday. It seemed rather strange looking at familiar names on birth and death certificates. The very first one I came across was my great grandmother’s certificates, birth, marriage and death. I had no idea just what information could be gleaned from a certificate. The marriage to the gardener seems to have taken a bit of a twist. As I read the marriage paper it agreed with common knowledge that her husband was indeed fourteen years her junior, no problems there. I also know that my grandmother was a tailoress with her own business, so it rather threw me to discover that not only was my grandfather a poor gardener he was also illiterate. His signature on both the wedding certificate and my grandmother’s birth was merely a mark.
This called for more personal information and unfortunately my grandmother died in the 70s but my mother has a wealth of information in her memory. This marries up nicely with what I am trying to say on my website; we must talk to the older generation. I now find out that there are quite a few discrepancies in the information from the newspaper cutting on great grandfather’s ‘suicide’. My great grandmother was a bit flighty by all accounts and liked her men. Now there are two stories here, one says that she got pregnant by an important visitor and was married off to the young gardener to save face and the other says her brothers, concerned she might get pregnant, arranged the marriage for her to ensure the family name remained honoured. However a third factor has come into play here, my grandmother’s birth wasn’t registered until she was three years old. Hmm something more to be looked into, methinks.
As for my poor great grandfather and his suicide verdict while temporary insane, there is a lot more to the story. What were in the letters the coroner refused to publish I wonder, who were they from? My great grandmother was possibly resentful for having to marry the poor gardener. The brothers bought a farm for him to run to keep face. Still unhappy she often left him with the girls while she went off for months at a time to stay with her parents. While she was at home, she wore the trousers and held the purse strings. If he went into town with the other farmers he would have to ask his wife for tuppence in order to buy cigarettes, about five I believe, so that he could be like the other farmers. So you see there is a lot more to the story and I cannot help feeling a great deal of compassion for this man. It is quite easy to see why he suffered from depression.
I don’t think there are any tales that connect our time with this story yet, but who knows what I might uncover in the days to come, meanwhile do go and talk to your elder generation. You will gain so much knowledge and they will enjoy your company and the chance to reminisce. Who knows, you might uncover your own interesting tales.

Rainy Days

What a pleasure to see the rain. I know that most people complain and I am lucky in that I don’t have to go out in it today, but never the less I would still welcome the rain. There are many ways of looking at it but first there’s the garden… you might say that yes it waters the garden and it does it rather well. But to me I can also say it has saved me a job, today I can’t get out in the garden because it is raining so I can do what I want to do indoors without feeling guilty. Bonus!
I didn’t waste my day, some time ago my mother gave me a pile of photocopied photographs dated back to the 1800s. I love old photos and these were extra special because every picture has a relative of mine looking back at me. In my web pages there will be lots of stories, still under construction yet, that are quite heart breaking in places and to look at photographs and see the faces of those people is very strange. There are faces that look familiar yet don’t have a name as yet and others that I know a lot about that don’t have a face. Today while I was escaping the rain I copied all those photographs, learned faces to put to names and, the saddest of all, I typed up a newspaper report of my great grandfather’s suicide at 37.
There are other stories that have been passed down surrounding that report but back in those days, 1928, everything was so loosely taken care of. The family decided whether they wanted an autopsy, nothing was forensically tested and the verdict was based on circumstantial evidence only. Cause of death – death by drowning while temporarily insane. I will be telling the story on the website pages but it sure makes you think how lucky we are today. The truth will out, nobody today would blame a trip to the dentist and it would be broadcast all over the newspapers if any other circumstances were suspected. I believe there was a lot more to the story.
So today I was grateful for the rain, and maybe it was rather appropriate that I wrote about something sad. Had it not rained the report would still be sitting on my shelf, the faces both stern and austere or smiling and content would just remain unknown to me and stuffed in a plastic bag, and I wouldn’t have had another opportunity to talk to my mother and discover even more secrets.
The rain is a blessing in so many ways but roll on sunshine on Friday!