Actually, it doesn't feel like I am trailing clouds of glory. It feels like other, less savoury, things trail behind me, like an old pair of tights protruding from the bottom of a hastily pulled on pair of jeans. Dogs, for instance, hungry for their breakfast. Children seeking socks, shirts, paperwork to be signed. Unpaid bills. Unanswered letters. And illness. Yes, illness follows me everywhere.
I started this blog to record my experiences as I go through this bone and spirit crushing illness. I write it because so often, despite my years of working and playing with words, I sometimes just cannot say what I want to say out loud.
Can I capture it in writing? Who knows. But at the very least this blog will help me to record my thoughts and feelings as they happen in case somebody, at some time, will want to read about them. And I reason that if I publish my wishes - especially those pertaining to the end of my life - it will be more difficult for my husband, (loving, steadfast but always one to take the easier path), to ignore them.
About Me
- Deirdre
- I am forty eight, I have three children, a husband and two dogs. I am a teacher, a mother, a wife, a daughter and a sister. I come from a huge family, I have lots of friends, but sometimes I am lonely. And sometimes sad, and sometimes frightened. But much of the time, despite having cancer and going through chemotherapy, I am happy. And at times I experience moments when I feel at total peace with the world. Like last night, when I got out of the car and the night sky, strewn with stars, caught my eye. Like when I am skiing and standing at the top of the mountain with the wind on my face. Or when I am by the sea, or being thrown around by the waves like a rag in a washing machine. I love it when a child tells me I am a good teacher. I love it when my children trust me enough to tell me their hopes and fears. But I love it most when my mother strokes my head and tells me that it is all going to be OK. You see, despite my forty eight years and grey hairs (when I am not bald), I am still a child at heart really.
No comments:
Post a Comment