What becomes of the broken hearted?

Day 082/100

Was doing some art work the other day listening to the radio, where all the songs played seemed to have some connection to love, romance or broken relationships and I began to wonder “What becomes of the broken hearted?” Do they become the modern day equivalent of Miss Havisham, or Liz Gilbert, traveling the world to find what is now presumed lost, or Vianne Rocher taking comfort in her children and crafting her chocolates bringing love to others. Who knows love is a funny thing and the only two creatures who really know what will come to pass is Eros and Cupid, for after all they are the two mischievous creatures who set everything in motion. Perhaps we need to be broken hearted at least once in life so that when real love comes knocking we know what it is and can grasp it with all our might. That all the pain once suffered is soon forgotten, replaced by a lifetime of hope, love, fun and comfort. Like many things before we get to possess that which gives meaning to life, some times we need to experience a few bumps along the way. Here’s to love and to all those broken hearted people, may the pain it brings last but a second and that Eros will bestow his blessing.

As each year passes

Day o67/100

Today is one of those days you know is coming, it happens every year, thats the way the days work but because of a twist of fate years ago, it becomes a day you can not let vanish from memory. They say time heals all wounds but I am not sure how accurate that statement is, especially when the vent in question is the death of a child. My god-daughter is eighteen years dead today, if she had not left us. This year she would have graduated high school, would have been starting university in September, she would have I am sure had a boyfriend, like with any life cut short the would have’s are endless. Unfortunately due to what ever cosmic bump that occurred in the universe she was only with us for sixteen days, what I recall most is how small she was, her skin alabaster in quality, she had a fragility that made her more precious. All I remember of her christening is the beep of her heart monitor and the nurses on a knife edge every time it bleeped the wrong way. Although a joyful occasion one tinged with sadness as we knew her life would be a short one. The funeral was simple, quite, dignified, a small white coffin laid to rest in the freshly turned earth, the world around reflecting the solemnness of the occasion. The death of a child is difficult event for a parent to understand and cope with, for with each passing year you are reminded of what your child will not achieve and the pain of the loss becomes ever more poignant. Although a sad day, I do believe she is keeping a watchful eye over her younger siblings, making her presence felt, and helping to guide them safely through life’s challenges. Although she is gone I do have the privilege of fulfilling my duties, although a tad chaotically at times, I am the one who fills them full of sweets and hands them back or when babysitting, bedtime tends to be two seconds before parents come home, not the best role model to two boys. But love them both and I hope they both have long and full filling lives, full of love, mischief and wonder.

 

to two boys,

Feeling Romantic

Day 060/100

Have not had a poetry day for a while so as I am feeling a tad romantic at the moment. I have chosen one of the works of Coleridge one of the romantic poets to entice romance to come forth. Here’s wishing.

Love

by Samuel Taylor Coleridge

And in Life’s noisiest hour,
There whispers still the ceaseless Love of Thee,
The heart’s Self-solace and soliloquy.
You mould my Hopes, you fashion me within ;
And to the leading Love-throb in the Heart
Thro’ all my Being, thro’ my pulse’s beat ;
You lie in all my many Thoughts, like Light,
Like the fair light of Dawn, or summer Eve
On rippling Stream, or cloud-reflecting Lake.
And looking to the Heaven, that bends above you,
How oft! I bless the Lot that made me love you.

How do you get there?

Day 051/100

A few days ago I was pondering the notion of Where do I want to go? but in the grand scheme of things did not really take into account how on earth you get there and what gets lost when traveling. From experience at seventeen your pathway through the world seems pretty straightforward, for me it was get to university, do my masters and obtain my doctorate and I suppose in between meet my soul mate, get married and consider having children. Well progress seventeen years and lets see where we are, did get ti university, got my masters and about to start a doctorate in september. All seems pretty on track, but unfortunately I did not realize that in order to do well academically some things get lost in the precess, or rather be misplaced hoping to be rediscovered at a later date. For me conversations between friends and myself tend to few and far between when I am studying, and relationships pass me by, I am so focused on my education that I completely miss all the signals. The reason being that I love what I do and tend to get so wrapped up in it that it is all I do, for hours at a time, everything else in my sphere becomes not obsolete but invisible for long periods of time. In addition I have no issues with being on my own for large periods of time, it just never dawns on me that the rest of world could be a bit different. What makes my journey possible from A to B is the understanding of my friends and family, that at some point I will actually finish what I am doing and come back to the real world. Additionally although relationships have been few and far between, I think I have had the time to get to know who I am and what makes me tick, so I am better able to really recognize what it is I want from a relationship and make it work. Unfortunately society has these preconceived notions even now, that a girl should be married by a certain age, and give up everything she has earned to become a cherished mother and wife. What society fails to take into account there are women out there who do not fit the traditional conventions and that life for us is no less rewarding or fulfilling. As they say all good things come to those who wait.

 

Half way and counting

Day 050/100

Well the half way mark has been reached, never though I would actually survive this long. As any one knows diets are fickle creatures, and keeping the monster tamed is quite the challenge. I am delighted to say followers now number 28 which is brilliant and thanks to all who signed up. In addition thanks to everyone who pushed the like button, much appreciated. As you have guessed at this point I tend to write about what ever takes my interest on the day, and the inspiration can begin with a conversation, email, written piece or some other insignificant snippet that when considered can lead to a wide variety of strange and interesting places. On filling in my Vacant Pages over the last seven weeks I have have been introduced to an amazing profusion of other blogs, learning about everything from cooking, writing, photography, economics, religion, learning and too many others to name. This enterprise was begun to keep my on the straight and narrow, and to help prevent me from thinking about food, it is a strange approach but one that seems to be working, who would have thought. Thanks to everyone who has taken time out of their day to stop by and I hope in the coming weeks I’ll get introduced to more wonderful postings from across the globe and hopefully continue to enlighten everyone about the trials and tribulations that is Vacant Pages. In closing this is a traditional Irish Blessing and I hope it finds all of you in good health and spirits.

May the road rise to meet you,

May the wind be always at your back,

May the sun shine warm upon your face;

the rains fall soft upon your fields and until we meet again,

may God hold you in the palm of His hand.

 

Cats, they win

Day 048/100

Not sure if it is the weather or what, but can not stop sneezing. I am going to blame the cats for this one, my sister in her wisdom welcomed two big, furry, green eyed nutter’s into the house about nine years ago. My only problem is that at times I can be highly allergic to cats, they tend to shed more this time of year, hence me sounding all breathy and alluring as I can not breath properly. As much as I want to shave them of every hair they own I do love them in their own way, although the path to friendship has not been easy. Bubble’s spent the first two years after I came home hissing and attacking me, it was my home and now I was considered the interloper by the cat. Couple of weekends without my sister and me on feeding duty and the friendship was born. Tuts on the other hand is our arch nemesis, looking at him you can see the cogs going, working out how to cause the utmost chaos while looking innocent at the same time. For this cat there is no collar he can not break out of, or refrigerator he can not break into. You would think his skills end there, but no, when asked by the police for identifying marks on my stolen laptop, all I could answer was “there are tiny teeth marks all along one side”. Should make it easy to spot. Every plastic tie on my backpack has been tested for chew-ability, all have failed the test. This cat when so inclined will growl at the postman, will not allow you to go to bathroom unaided and when having dinner is better cloaked for attack than any Klingon vessel. The four lads outside on the other hand would put Hannibal Lecter to shame, they love hunting. It moves, its gone, with the remains being carefully gathered in one spot, unfortunately trying to work out what on earth they have decimated  is a challenge. Not sure there exists a mouse with 6 back legs, one head, and three front paws. Its a serial killers grave yard. But my run in with cats does not end there, a good friend has two wonderful moggies, and one seems to appreciate my personal choice in brassiere. While chatting with my friend one day, her moggie appeared out into the sitting room entangled in this white contraption, on closer inspection we discovered she had pinched my bra. The item was not to be relinquished and she promptly fell asleep, her head securely snuggled in one of the cups. Mortified was not the word, but all we could do was laugh. Over time I have come to become less allergic, but there are still instances when they do not have to even lift a paw to bring me down, a friendly hello is enough. After one meeting I look like I have been through the worst break up of my life. But in the end you have got to love them, for what other creature know to man do you serve, not own.

No Second Troy

Day 042/100

Decided that today was going to be a poetry day, I hope you like the choice.

No Second Troy by William Butler Yeats

Why should I blame her that she filled my days

With misery, or that she would of late

Have taught to ignorant men most violent ways,

Or hurled the little streets upon the great,

Had they but courage equal to desire?

What could have made her peaceful with a mind

That nobleness made simple as a fire,

With beauty like a tightened bow, a kind

That is not natural in an age like this,

Being high and solitary and most stern?

Why, what could she have done, being as she is?

Was there another Troy for her to burn?