A year later.........

Recap on the last year........

Living in the MidWest with my lovely man for about 4 months, then just when he was about to head into a 3 month whirlwind of traveling on business trips all around the globe I got offered a rather great job in the UK for 3 months - so I took it.
Living back in the UK for what I knew would be just a short time was great, I got to spend every weekend with people I love, visiting friends and family all over the country.
Then the posting was over and it was back to the US where the man and I got on a motorbike* and rode for four thousand miles over the North East (5 states) and Canada (5 provinces).
We stayed at posh hotels, camp grounds, mom & pop B&B's and one rather dodgy motel, it was quite the adventure.
2 months later the summer was over and it was time to go back to work, this time I had just a 6 week job waiting for me so headed back to the UK wondering what would happen next in this adventure. Within 2 days of my arriving back in the UK I'd been offered two very good jobs, one in the UK - tempting and one in the Caribbean - hmmm very tempting.
First day of November saw me packing up my summer clothes and heading to the beach, I've been here ever since and am loving it. Even more exciting is that the lovely man came down for a month over Christmas and decided that he loves it here too.
So he went back to the US, worked a few things out with his company, got a new job here on this island and is moving down to this small island in the sun with me.
He arrives in two weeks, all a bit exciting really, both of us living and working in the same country - together.

So that's been my 2010......



* Oh yes it turns out that I'm a bit of a biker chick - who knew!

Its a plan then!

From my mother (grumble)

"Your sister has told us we have to go for dinner at some country hotel for your father's birthday, I don't know what all the fuss is about!"

Right, full steam ahead!

Have also just spoken to my parents oldest friends who are happy and eager to drive 300 miles to attend the surprise Sunday lunch.

Flight booked and paid for - check
Guest invitations sent out - check
Hotel rooms booked - check
Guest of honour attendance secured - check


All this total makes up for the rubbish day at work I had - not helped by me sleeping through the alarm for the first time in a veryyyy veryyyyy long time!

The summer and beyond

Summer 2008 was wonderful, in too many ways to try to recap. But now the fresh memories are fading and its time to have some more wonderful layers added.

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In four weeks I'm heading to one of my favourite cities in one of my favourite countries to spend some time with my all time favourite friend. And oh I'm excited. There will be sunshine and laughter and love. And visits to Lush

*******

This last week I've been surprised by the kindness of colleagues and overwhelmed by the care of friends. And parental issues have been raised to the foreground again. Mostly because friends can't believe the levels of effort I'm going through organising a surprise 70th birthday party for my father in January. Just because some of my family are rubbish doesn't mean that the rest are.

I've booked 5 rooms for family at a lovely little Coaching Inn for all, put down a deposit for a Saturday night dinner for 9 of us. And thanks to the wonders of facebook have been able to track down my fathers cousins who along with friends, in laws and siblings are going to turn up for a surprise Sunday lunch. I've got a flight back to the UK thats not going to cost more than a months salary and booked time of work. The ONLY thing my sibling has to do is to tell my parents she is taking them to dinner at the Inn on his birthday so they don't make other plans.

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Thanks to the best geek hero in my life I have also been able to catch the latest episodes of Emmerdale - clearly life is good!

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And I'm weighing up the options of downsizing all my worldly belongings to leave me free to just jump freely to a new country in the next six months. Which raises the questions, even if I scan in all my old photos from pre digital era what to do with the originals?

************

Conversation with aging parents

My father called me* this evening, and after a full dissection of why I didn't answer the phone when he called earlier. (I was out!) He asked ........

Father: "would you like to talk to your mother**
Mia: "umm ok, if she wants to"
Father (whispers): "its Mother's Day"
Mia: "not here its not, but ok, put her on"

muffled conversation in the background
Father: "It's Mia, she wants to talk to you"
Mother: "But I'm making the tea"
Father: "It's ok, the tea can wait"
Mother: "Oh ok then"

Mother: "Hello"
Mia: "Are you having a good day Mother?"
Mother: "Oh thank you yes, we've just heard that your Father's 2nd cousin has just died, I never met her but your Father said that Grandma took you once to her place in Portsmouth for afternoon tea - do you remember her? You must have been about 6."
Mia: Not really, Grandma took me to lots of relatives for afternoon tea.
Mother: Well we are going to the funeral and apparently the service is going to be held at XXXX Abbey, which as you know*** is just a ruin so it should be quite an interesting service"
Mia: "As long as it doesn't rain, so how are you?"
Mother: "Ok then, bye"

Yep, thats one of the 3 conversations that my mother and I have had since last August.
~sigh~
And yet I still have people not believing me when I tell them she has no interest in me.

This phone call is even more odd when you remember that they didn't bother calling me on Christmas Day, New Years Day or my birthday last year. Yet I'm still expected to wish her a Happy Mother's Day.











*A very rare happening these days
** A never before suggested idea
*** Actually I didn't, but great, now I do!

Not the best of starts to a Sunday

I lay in bed for too long this morning, my mind wandering into areas which were not helpful or productive. In fact I wandered into the area of 'what difference am I making in my world?" and the answer was none. From this I very quickly travelled down through the stages of sadness, futility and despair.
I moved into the 'when would be the best time to just disappear', my affairs are not really in order so it would be a hassle for those left to sort out admin if I left just now, but if I hang around for a few more weeks then my Baby Girl will be here and there is no way I'd want her to have to deal with the aftermath. So then if I plan for my demise after she has gone back to the UK, that would make more sense. But then again that could leave her with feelings of guilt that she left me when I so very much wanted to stay. ~sigh~ I can't do that too her.
So it looks like I'll stay around for a bit longer, unless I can find a cause worth dying for. If I could swap my health for my sister then I'd do it in an instant. I just don't seem to have a cause worth living for at the moment.

And then I got up, had a long hot shower, washed my hair, got dressed, had some breakfast and those thoughts moved just a little bit further to the back of my mind.
Note to self: Sometimes I think too much.

The one in the middle

A few days ago I received an email from my elder sibling, it was addressed to my younger sib, his wife and myself, in it she told us some very upsetting news about her health. She wanted to make sure that we all knew at the same time. The sort of news that is hard to hear, the sort of news that is very hard to reply to. But (of course) I did, I replied with the 'so sorry to hear this', 'let me know if I can help' and 'I love you' lines and followed it up with a phone call to her today. We chatted for a long time about everything in her life, decisions she is having to make about her daughters future and what medical tests were going to be taken over the next week. She also said that neither my brother or his wife had replied to her email, and the she was "cut to the quick" that they didn't make even the smallest effort on hearing her news. We talked a while longer about different situations and family members and ended up saying goodbye reasonably happily.

Then I called my brother, we chatted for a while about this and that. Holidays, diving and moving home, just general news. Then I asked if he'd read his sisters email, he said that yes he had, but didn't know what to reply. I offered a few suggestions, to which he mumbled that yes he probably should. Then said he was just too busy to get online much these days. At this point I reminded him that thanks to Facebook news feed I knew how often he snatched a moment during his day to do a movie quiz, post some photos or send some pokes around and that he should spend 2 minutes sending a message of care to his sister.

Seriously I wonder how it is that I'm the only one in my family that takes the time and effort to make contact with anyone, is it that everyone else is married and therefore doesn't care about their blood family anymore? My siblings are 12 years apart in age and have very little in common with each other, and both of them seem to be happy to let each other drift away - yet I am so close to both of them and adore them with all my heart. And sometimes it really makes me sad that they don't share that love with each other - especially as they only live 2 hours drive from one another.

Favourite lines from recent emails

"You may have had sun but I had the Irish to party with."

"You just put a lovely big smile on my face and you are 1000s of miles away. Now that's something special"

"Oh my god oh my god oh my god! XXXXXXXXXX?! WAHHHHH! I literally can't believe you just casually dropped that into the conversation! Crikey me, I think I'm going to have to go and have a lie down before I even think about trying to reply to your email. I'm so excited!!!"

3 very different people replying to 3 very different emails, but oh I love them. ~sigh~

Shelf life

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OK, just to really rub it in, the child upstairs woke me today with the TFWM again.

As I checked my emails between gentle sips of water (still got a delicate tummy) I see an email from my aunt, letting me know that cousin S has got engaged after years of living in sin.
So I spent today humming TFWM which must have seemed very strange to everyone that knows me and quietly feeling sorry for myself that I really was the last one on the shelf in the family - and how this will be pointed out to me by every single relation* at my sibling's upcoming nuptials this summer.
Quick chat with my sis about some other family business and I mentioned it, she burst out laughing and reminded me about our rather 'odd' and very effeminate 2nd cousin P - and how he isn't married either - so I'm not quite the only one left!

*It's the prospect of the nose rubbing and the pitiful comments from the family that annoys me rather than the actual fact, they all seriously see me as having failed in life because I've not got married and had babies. Of course what makes this harder to deal with is that I'd love to be loved and have babies! I've just got to go prepared with some good answers to the questions that are going to be thrust at me every time I turn around.

If you think this post sounds familiar, then you are correct.

2:16am

I got the call to say that the surgery went well.
Have just spoken to him and he seems tired but lucid - which is more than I was at 2:16am when I was woken by the phone.

He had a pain free night, but didn't sleep at all well, off to get some x-rays done in an hour to make sure that everything is all good.

Thanks to everyone for their good wishes

Still waiting

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Due to the wonders of international time zones I had to wait for half a day before my father was even awake. Then apparently they decided to put him at the end of the days schedule due to his possible infectiousness ......... I've just heard that he has only NOW just gone into surgery.

~sigh~

It's going to be a long night.

Bit scared

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Today my father is having an operation.
An operation that is very similar to the one he had almost 3 years ago which resulted in an infection which caused complete organ shut down, which resulted in me getting one of those dreaded 2am phone calls. A phone call that I often have nightmares about

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Sib: Hi sis it's me - wake up properly.
Mia: It's 2am here, are you drunk again?
Sib: No - are you properly awake?
Mia: Yes, I am now Sitting up in bed and suddenly feeling worried
Sib: Dad's been taken back into hospital, he collapsed, its not looking good, he is in a coma.
Mia: . . . . . . . .
Sib: Are you still there?
Mia: Yes. What should I do?
Sib: Get the next flight home. Call me back when you've sorted out a ticket, call the parents number I'll be there in 20 mins.
Mia: OK.

An hour later after battling with online booking of flight in the middle of the night and being unable to see through the tears I call back.

Mia: It's me.
Mother: Oh hello, how are you?
Mia: Ummm not the best, what's happening?
Mother: Oh not to worry, Daddy had a bit of a funny turn, do you want to speak to your sib?
Mia: Yes
Sib: Hi
Mia: It's me, ok, what's going on? Is Mother on valium already?
Sib: Mother is in her favourite place, denile. His organs have shut down, he is in a coma, on life support, its not looking very hopeful.
Mia: VERY HOPEFUL??? What does that mean?
Sib: It means, pack for a funeral - he's probably not going to make it through the next 24 hrs.
Mia: OK, what's the hospital number?

I call the hospital and speak to the ICU nurse who is sitting by my fathers machines.
Mia: Can you tell me what's happening?
Nurse: Sorry, we cant give out patient information over the phone.
Mia: But I'm calling from Hong Kong, my Mother seems to think its all ok, my Sib told me to pack for a funeral.
Nurse: I'm sorry but your Sib has got a more realistic view on the situation. I'm sorry.
Mia: (in tears) OK, thank you, please look after my Daddy.
Nurse: We will do our best, how soon can you get here?
Mia: The flight doesn't leave till after noon (It's nearly 4am now) and takes 13 hours, and that just gets me to London.
Nurse: I'm sorry.

I call a friend in the North of England, he instantly offers to drive from Liverpool to London to meet me and drive me up North - 4 hours drive each way. My flight gets in very late at night so he will leave for London after a full day at work - he's a good friend.

I call a friend here in HK, I wake her from her sleep and I cry. She throws on some clothes and comes over to sit with me while I pack, while I pack for my fathers funeral. She leaves to go to work while I sit there. I email work and tell them I have to take emergency leave. Itake myself off to the airport hours ahead of time, as if me sitting there at the depture gate will make the hours pass quicker.
I cry.

I get on the plane, I've no idea who is sitting beside me, the TV's are not working, I think I probably cry the whole way there, I mourn my father, I don't expect to ever see him again. I cry. (later I feel sorry for the poor people sat around me, at the time I have no idea who is there)

I arrive in London, I wake through the gates and see my dear friend C, he has chocolate in one hand and a large box of tissues in the other - he knows me so well. He holds me close

C: I spoke with your Sib last an hour ago, your Dad is still alive.

He hands me his phone, I call my sib - my poor sib who is having to deal with all of this, to step up and organise things, to make heart wrenching phone calls to people he loves in the middle of the night.

Mia: Hi, its me, I've landed.
Sib: Ok, get C to get you up here, SAFELY, the ICU said you can go straight in - we are all taking it in turns as they only let 2 people by the bed.
Mia: It's going to be 2am before I get there.
Sib: Thats ok, the staff said to come in, don't wait till morning.
Mia: Oh......

C drives me up North, he talks to me about his children, about his new gf, about all sorts of things, he tries to engage me in conversation and then he lets me have some time to just stare out of the window. We arrive at the hospital, I see my older sister's car in the near deserted visitors car park. C takes my hand and we find the ICU. My sib comes out just as we get close. My sib hugs me (my sib never ever hugs me!) He points out the bed that is holding an old man, an old man hooked up to wires and tubes. He doesn't look like my father - my father was cutting down garden hedges with an electric chain saw just 3 weeks ago.
I go and sit beside him, I hold his hand, I tell him I'm here.

The next 4 days pass with the staff telling us to be realistic about his chances, but that they are surprised that he has fought so hard. We tell them not to be surprised, that Daddy has been given his 'orders' by us, he has to pull through this. And Daddy is a man who has long followed orders. We have to sign papers and give permission for amputation - for anything that will help him to get through this.
And he pulls through. The next 2 weeks are spent making notes on the ridiculous things that he is saying to us during his drug induced haze

"went out drinking with Keith Richards last night, feeling a bit rough today" !!!

"tonight Ted and I are going to break out that guy in bed 3, he's undercover and needs to get back to make his report"

"I'm heading off to the Grand Prix next Saturday, do you want to come?"

Also making notes on the sometimes conflicting information that the different organ specialists are giving us. Its not a great time.

After 2 weeks my siblings both return to work, after all they will have to be on hand when I return to Hong Kong but for now its me that is driving my mother to the hospital every day and sitting with her while she talks about how she wants her body to be used for medical studies and her ashes to be scattered. Its not an easy time for any of us.

I return to Hong Kong, after making a deal with my father, if he makes it to Christmas then I'll come 'home' as well. (I have never returned to the UK for Christmas any other year)
He keeps his end of the deal, and so do I.

Physically he is a shadow of the man he once was, mentally he is weaker as well. He's never able to travel overseas, to take that 3 month trip around Asia that they had planned. But he's alive, he gets to spend time being a Grandpa, he gets to hear about his children's adventures (well some of them!!) and he moves on with his life.

But........... today he has another operation, very similar to the last.

So today I'm a bit scared. Tomorrow I'll still be a bit scared and will probably be a bit scared for a few weeks until everything is recovered from and he is safely home.

Mother's Day

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Today is worse than Valentine's Day. At least in February most people understand what it is like to have a broken heart and to not want to celebrate a day of pink fluffy candies. But ignoring Mother's Day, well that is a lot more difficult for people to accept, so I've kept a low profile today and not said much to anyone.

I'm not a mother, and probably never will be.

My mother has spent most of my life telling me how useless, undeserving of happiness and unlovable I am.


I had 2 God Mothers, one who divorced out of the family and lost touch with me when I was about 8 years old. I didn't hear from her again till she died and found out that she had left me a nice little bequest in her will. I wish she'd made contact with me earlier.



My other Godmother is T who I loved dearly, she died 10 years ago, struck down by cancer within 5 months and I miss her so very much, especially when I've got wonderful news to share. As a teenager on Mother's Day I would send her flowers and cards and pretend she was my mother, she had no children of her own and always let me know how special I was to her. Today if I think about Mother's Day at all then I wish she were still here for me to call and tell her I love her.









Today I read these Mother's Day Secrets at Post Secret

And the postcard that I would have come closest to sending is this one


But I'm not quite there yet. There is a tiny part of my heart that still has hopes and dreams and is willing to jump through all her hoops if only she'd just love me. But the rest of me knows that this won't ever happen and I should just accept it. That's hard to do.

Mother

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I just left this long winded comment at LC's place when he talks a little about his relationship with his mother

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I totally understand where you are coming from.
In a moment of utter madness and alcohol I invited my parents to come and visit me from England, never for a second did I think they would actually come, because

a) I gave them a narrow time slot when they'd be welcome - only 3 weeks away
b) My Mother doesn't like to fly
c) I was pretty sure that their passports were probably out of date
d) They surely wouldn't be able to get time off work at such short notice.
and
e) Who has enough spare cash sitting around for an international flight x 2

She said yes!
They got their passports fast tracked and leave from work and had apparently been putting some money aside 'just in case you invited us'.

Sh1t.

My siblings were so unbelieving that I'd invited her that they both called to ask if I was on drugs.

The day she was due to fly in to my country I met a friend for lunch and cried, yes cried that my mother was coming to visit my house.
3 hours after they arrived I was on my bathroom floor vomiting and sobbing uncontrollably that she was in my house for the next 10 days.

It was bad.

I got through it (mainly with the help of alcohol and booking them lots of tours!) and I've never been alone in a room with her (willingly) since.

Friends who have 'proper' relationships with their parents just don't understand. It's good to know someone else who does.

My imaginary friend

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Last night I was a littttttle bit tipsy, and I can't sleep when I'm tipsy - actually I didn't even try. What I did instead was to have a long rambling conversation on the phone with my sister (yeah for time zones!) . She was blatantly laughing at me for being so tipsy - especially when I told her just how little I had actually drunk. But what amused her most of all was that I kept making reference to 'we'.

The thing is, she was asking me questions about decisions I'm in the process of making and I was talking her through the various repercussions of each option. Then she pointed out that I was using the word 'we' instead of 'I', she asked if I had neglected to tell her about someone significant in my life - my answer (which made her laugh so hard) was

"Nope, there is no 'us', but if I use the word 'we' then I can pretend at least for a little while that I am not having to take total responsibility for these major decisions ALL BY MYSELF"

So the conversation then swung around the subject of the name of my imaginary friend who is helping me make these choices. And the name I settled on is Max.
By the end of the conversation it had been decided, when things get too tough then I'm just going to let Max make the decisions. Right, so thats sorted then.

New Book

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I've just ordered a new book for my father. It's a little different than usual books, I've put together a selection of photos from his life and family and sent them to Bob, where they will be printed and bound all in time for his birthday next month. All rather clever really isn't it!

Now I know how Emily Bronte would feel*

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I found out today that the people who bought our old family property (been in the family for 79 years) have done a great job in renovating the property. They have however turned one little corner into a display area. During their renovations at the back of long undisturbed shelves and storage sheds they uncovered an old writing desk and some visitors books that span generations of visitors, a framed piece of cross stitch and a tea set - they've set it up in the alcove under the stairs as a 'conversation' piece. My uncle was passing and called in to introduce himself and complement them on the work they have done to the building, he didn't expect to walk in and see the desk that ALL of us used at one time or another to write on. He was also a little surprised to see how they had turned the page of the visitors book to a date in 1945 and see his own name written there in a child's hand.
To us its every day stuff, to the new owners it is a exhibit!

And yes, the framed cross stitch - it was something I made as a child.
I shall make sure that I drop in at some point to see this all for myself - I might even sign their new visitors book for them.

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* The Bronte Parsonage was the first 'home turned into a museum' I was taken to see as a small child, the image of her desk, her journal and petite gloves has stayed with me all these years and I always wondered how the Bronte family would feel if they could see the tourists looking through their personal affects.

Exit

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A few days ago I received word that a member of my immediate family has died, I received this news without sorrow. There is no mourning of her passing, just relief that she is at last free from pain, she is no longer a burden on those around her but most of all that she no longer manipulates my father.

My reaction to her death surprised me a little, I am someone that has cried many times on reading blogs where family members have been lost, when I read a book or watch a film then I feel pain for those grieving. Even yesterday I shed a tear in the middle of a book when a fictional character lost her fictional sister. I've even been known to cry reading a book about pets that have died - yes watching Bambi was not my best moment ever.
Yet strangely I find myself unmoved by the passing of my own. Does this mean I love her less than others loved their own? Perhaps so. I just know that we had a difficult relationship, and what I do mourn is that she was never able to tell me that anything I ever did was good enough. No matter what went on, nothing was ever acknowledged. When ever we spoke it was always to praise another family member who is in a similar line of work, yet has not had the 'success' I have achieved through sheer determination and hard work. If I were the train driver, then my cousin would be the lady who pushes the tea trolley. Not that there is anything wrong with pushing the tea trolley, just that my strengths, achievements and challenges were never ever noticed never mind praised.

Perhaps this is why I seem to be steeled against feeling any grief at her passing - I never mattered to her.

Sarcasm a sibling thing?

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Growing up in close proximity to my sister I had to develop some sarcasm just to survive through to dinner time, and so did our younger brother.

It seems these days that we are all at our best - banter wise, when together. We are rarely all together, my siblings never meet up without me, I am a true middle child in that I have a (mostly) great relationship with both of my siblings and yet the two of them barely make an effort to keep in contact, and I like nothing more than bringing us all together.

My brother-in-law will sit as though at a tennis match when we get together, he says that my sis, although still with a wicked sense of humour doesn't banter with anyone else the way she does with me, he himself is a very laid back relaxed man, who says very little.

My sister-in-law-to-be will join in when the challenge is to put my brother in his place, but she is not quite confident enough to send any barbs in the direction of the sisters - not yet anyway, although I do look forward to that day.

Few of my friends would say I was sarcastic, its rarely shown in my current life, but when I find myself with a worthy opponent, well then I really enjoy the banter.

So I wonder, even though we are rarely together is there something about growing up with siblings, feeling at ease with the banter, giving as good as we get and surviving to challenge another day, that allows us to easily slip back into the role, no matter how rarely we spend time together.

Honesty & communication

I've just had a long heartfelt conversation with my father, it has the possibility to change things dramatically for the better within our family.



He says he has taken onboard my comments and suggestions and can understand where misunderstandings have arisen in the past. He was totally surprised by some of my statements, not realising how his keeping things to himself has affected his children and our relationship with him.

With him if he doesn't have a plan set in stone he sees no point in even mentioning it - I told him that we (his children) no matter how old we are need to feel that we matter to him, if he ignores what is going on in our lives it just makes us appear insignificant to him.

It was the most adult conversation we have ever had.

I then called my brother to warn him that our father may be showing interest in his life and not to be too surprised.