A time for reflection

A good title for today’s entry. It would have been Dad’s 56th birthday today, but instead, I’m spending a quiet time on my own, reflecting with my keyboard. Mum has gone to see friends who live near by, and so, I’m left to my own devices.

Don’t get me wrong – I don’t begrudge Mum going out – far from it. I just didn’t feel like being sociable at this moment in time. Especially as I was watching the final part of a TV series that I recorded last night – The Lyon’s Den, with Rob Lowe in the title role. To say that the end was unexpected is an understatement.

If you get the chance to see it – do so. Bear with it, as I will admit that at times, it can be a bit tedious, but the final scenes were brilliant – all credit to Rob Lowe & Kyle Chandler for some fine acting throughout the series – I was hooked from the start.

On a slightly different topic, Mum and I have ordered a new mower. It’s a key start; self driven 19” deck Mountfield, and should be ready to be collected in a couple of weeks time.

It was ‘fun’ trying to find this place in Worcester, especially as I cannot read a map to save my life, but we found the road, and the site, and got the mower on order. So, because we’ve managed to get the mower from the Worcester branch, there’s no need for us to go to Hereford [boo, hiss!].

But, I haven’t given up on the idea of going to the cider museum – far from it. It’s on the back burner for the time being, as there are a few things that I need to get sorted before I get back to work on Monday.

The main one being taking Mum to the shoemaker in Northampton tomorrow. Since Mum had the car accident, she walks with a pronounced limp. Ok – quick info burst – Mum was nearly killed in a car accident three years ago.

As a result of the injuries that she sustained, now requires a built up shoe to help her walk normally, because her right leg is about ½” shorter than the left. Because of this, she limps when she walks without the lift in the shoe. Because of this, both my late father and I have done our best to help Mum, and finally talked her into going to see this shoemaker in Northampton.

We got a call from him last night to say that the shoes are ready for the first fitting, and as Mum wasn’t feeling too good, she let me take the call. I walked into the kitchen, to make things easier for Mum, as the last time she’d been to see the shoemaker, Dad had been with her.

I explained what had happened, and that Mum had good days and bad days, and as a result, it would be me accompanying Mum for the appointment. The gentleman was surprised, and said that he couldn’t believe it, as Dad had seemed so healthy when they (Mum & Dad) had been there for the consultation in early May. I didn’t disagree, and arranged an appointment for the pair of us to go, and see how the shoes fitted.

I will admit this though, as I type this entry, I’ve been listening to some of my favourite music. I started listening to the Evanescence album [Fallen], but found that all it was doing was depressing me. There’s the one track on there, My Immortal that I cannot listen to, without bursting into tears:

I'm so tired of being here
Suppressed by all my childish fears
And if you have to leave
I wish that you would just leave
'Cause your presence still lingers here
And it won't leave me alone

These wounds won't seem to heal
This pain is just too real
There's just too much that time cannot erase

When you cried I'd wipe away all of your tears
When you'd scream I'd fight away all of your fears
I held your hand through all of these years
But you still have
All of me

You used to captivate me
By your resonating life
Now I'm bound by the life you left behind
Your face it haunts
My once pleasant dreams
Your voice it chased away
All the sanity in me

These wounds won't seem to heal
This pain is just too real
There's just too much that time cannot erase

When you cried I'd wipe away all of your tears
When you'd scream I'd fight away all of your fears
I held your hand through all of these years
But you still have
All of me

I've tried so hard to tell myself that you're gone
But though you're still with me
I've been alone all along

When you cried I'd wipe away all of your tears
When you'd scream I'd fight away all of your fears
I held your hand through all of these years
But you still have
All of me

 The reason being, that it reminds me of the way that I felt in the immediate aftermath of Dad’s sudden death. Ok – as time goes by, it does get easier. But not much, and songs like that just cripple me at the moment. So, I’ve resorted to my old favourite – The Rasmus – Dead Letters album. Nothing like a good bit of guitar orientated rock to make you feel better!

Suppose I’d better tend to the moggies – I’m getting the evil eye from the pair of them!

Back when I get away from the furry fiends!

Karen.

Do spiders scream when they see a big fat hairy human in the bath?