Father’s Day and Love

I never seem able to celebrate Father’s Day in the same way as so many other people do each year. This is not because I never loved my father, it’s more because I didn’t like him or understand him for many years of our relationship. I have grown to love him more now that he is dead but that still does not give me permission to forget the negative things that lined our relationship. Before you get all up in arms about that statement let me tell you that I have forgiven him but I’ve not forgotten – there is a difference.

My dad was amazing. I know that even more now.

I have recently discovered his first post office savings bank account that he opened when he arrived in Britain. This small slim volume details more than how much and how regularly he saved his wages. It also tells a story of love and determination. My dad came from a humble country background in Jamaica where all he owned was a couple of goats and a donkey (as he would repeatedly tell us), but he was determined to make a difference for his family. He did.

My father never became a property tycoon, however he did buy his final house outright for cash twenty five years before he died. He came a long way in physical, social and economic terms from the time he swapped the beautiful, sunny island of Jamaica for the leafy, cool countryside of England.

I didn’t really understand him that much as I was growing up but through records of his past, that I’m finding now, and pieces of memory that I have stored – but never made any sense at the time – I am piecing together a more complete picture of a truly amazing man: my father – Michael Morgan.

I grieve, with love, for my loss and previous misunderstanding of him.

My mother and the Queen

This is a story of similarities and differences.  My mother was born in 1926, the same year as Queen Elizabeth II. If my mother had lived longer than her 49 years I wonder what she would have been doing this year, the year that Queen Elizabeth celebrates her Diamond Jubilee of her reign.

These two people were born in the same year but many miles apart in different countries. Even when my mother migrated to England in the late 1950s their lives were already starkly different, despite the fact that they had been born just 3 months apart. At the time of travelling my mother, Doris Morgan, was already mother to my elder siblings – there were six small people who looked at this woman (the original DM) as the queen of their world. The other three of us would be born within five years. We would join our other brothers and sister in lifelong adoration of this magnificent woman.

Whilst my mother was settling into her position of mother and wife in the harsh English countryside, the Queen was settling into her first decade as the reigning monarch of the country and Commonwealth. The Queen was then mother to two children. They were raised differently to my family. Although mummy knew lots about the Queen, I’m almost certain that the Queen knew nothing about my mum. That doesn’t matter right now because the people who relied on mummy knew enough about her to feel safe in her protection. In a way we became like citizens of the kingdom of Doris Morgan: we were safe in her care. Her reach of benevolence did not end when her life ended, it has continued to this very day. Mummy’s love deserves celebrating and although she will never celebrate any diamond anniversary herself I am holding my own remembrance celebration for her this year.

I admire the Queen because she has stayed in the same ‘job’ for 60 years – that takes commitment to duty. My mother was so committed to her duty as a parent that she extended her roles to include working three jobs at the same time, raising her children – almost single-handed – and looking after a house and husband that was not always the most gentle man in the world. Despite these pressures Mummy still had desire to shepherd us all in the right and narrow way. She taught us to love each other despite our differences, she taught us to follow our dreams and be independent, and she taught us that it’s wonderful to tend roses when the rest of the garden is purely functional: you see, the roses showed me that it’s necessary to have spots of beauty in your life that bring you pleasure. I still do this and I will continue to make and enjoy these moments as long as I can. Additionally Mummy showed me that when times are hard you can make a way through it if you are focussed enough on your dream. This is a legacy I will remember, forever.

As I think of the days when I hugged my mother on return from school and wondered why she was wearing an anorak in the house, and why it crunched, I will remember that she smiled as she told me that wearing layers of newspaper under your clothes helped to keep you warm and it was a good thing to do. I don’t think the Queen ever had to do that. Mummy made even the seemingly bad things into a positive learning experience: that took courage and insight.

They say ‘necessity is the mother of invention’, my mother – out of necessity – made my young life simple and happy. She didn’t have to do that, but that is the enduring legacy that I carry with me today as I celebrate the year the queen of my life was born and the diamond legacy she has left for me all these years later.

I will always remember that there is a hierarchy to everything – even life. 

In the Ark

Many people are familiar with the story of Noah’s Ark – even those who have no religious inclination know this tale.

I had reason to reconsider what it was like inside the ark when I was away from familiar surroundings earlier this week. I was not scared because of any end of the world prophecy neither was I about to be covered in a deluge of water – although it had been raining earlier that day. No, rather than that, I was thinking of the amount of love and joy that was in that structure. There was a feeling of connection, purpose and shared future right there. It weaved itself between smiles, hugs and handshakes. Everyone was joined together by an invisible but strong thread of love. I was sat inside a pub (an unusual location for me on any given day, especially a Monday afternoon), nevertheless I was aware of the way I was feeling whilst there.

Inside that pub, remote from my home, I felt more at peace and comfortable – no doubt, like the original inhabitants of the ark – than I do when I attend my weekly church service. That fact disturbed me, merely because of the alienation from peace that accompanies me in the company of people who profess to be Christians but often show habits that would not be out of place in an SS meeting.

The family and friends gathered in that pub were mostly strangers to me, yet they were genuinely warm and welcoming to me. I felt at home. I felt safe in the pub that became my ark for the afternoon.

I will continue to find safety in the mobile ark that I am constructing – according to God’s plans for my life, and I hope that I will someday replicate that feeling of safety that I experienced in the pub in more places that I frequent, especially my weekly church attendance.

Love is ...

Love is ... in the air.

Love is everywhere – especially today.

Love is different things to different people. But in all of those varying expressions I think love always means some type of connection to someone else.

My vision of love is explained in a word, a touch, or a look. Love is the simplest and most complicated concept I have ever encountered. It is magical. It is mysterious. Yet it is beautifully simple at the same time.

I have been referred to as an enigma, but I am easily understood by those I love and those who love me. To those who don’t believe that love is a basic human right for all people I’d suggest that they have never truly understood the concept of love or been without it. To deny love to people is not an act of love.

My truth about love comes from the most permanent relationship I have ever had – with God. God is love.

That is my template for all love that I experience.

Love is ... in the air.

(It’s even in this stone I found in Cyprus many years ago.)

Goodbye isn’t easy

Saying Goodbye isn’t easy especially when you have watched someone suffer before they fall asleep that final time. Sometimes there aren’t enough words to say what you feel at the time. On other occasion there isn’t adequate time to convey the deepest sentiments.

There are, however, some opportunities to spend time in peace and quiet with a loved one and share a gentle farewell. Those who have this may feel blessed, but I’m sure that they may still feel there isn’t enough time.

It may never be enough where love is central. I understand that.

And afterwards, when the final goodbyes have been shared, the chasm may seem un-breachable because everywhere you look or move there is unbearable pain and a sense of unfathomable loss. Goodbyes are eternally hard.

I’ve been writing this for weeks and been unable to finish it. Maybe I’m also having a hard time with the particular parting that has been on my mind for a while. It could be that it reminds me of all the others.

I tried to write again, but was unable to. I put it down and focussed on something else. Then I heard that since I revisited this topic today another precious soul has gone to sleep.

Although she did not have any part in the British-Caribbean tradition wherein I grew up, I am using this opportunity to say those familiar words used at traditional graveside partings, “Good night, dear friend. I’ll see you in the morning.”

World Cancer Day

World Cancer Day - this is marked annually as a worldwide event on the 4^th February.

I never knew that it existed before this year. The day, I mean, not cancer.

I’m sure we are all aware of cancer and people it has affected, people it is affecting right now. I know of cancer survivors. I also know of those who have not survived against the illness or who are currently undergoing treatment. Cancer makes me sad beyond expression.

All illness, especially cancer – because of its aggressive nature against the body, reminds me that we have to really delight in life right now. We have to enjoy the moments that we have and fill them with pleasure because tomorrow is not promised to us.

Sorry if that’s too heavy for you right now, but it’s real.

There are things that we can do to prevent some illnesses and if we can stop cancer in our bodies then I think we should. I will do my best for myself and my beloved child, I hope you will do your best for you and yours.

I may already know you, but if I don’t that doesn’t mean that I don’t care about you – I do. I want everyone of us to live the best life possible, in the best health possible. As Lance Armstrong says, Live Strong.

http://www.worldcancerday.org/

A Canadian short film to mark World Cancer Day:  My Healing Journey: Seven Years with Cancer, Joseph Viszmeg.

Amazing, inspiring, life-changing. 

Shared because I care.

Connections

Some connections are impossible to break. At least that’s what I feel.

A friend of mine gave me an example of this when we were talking the other day. We all hope our relationships will last forever, but sometimes cracks begin to show that cause you to think. It may just be that she is a mother of several children that she says this, but I think it runs deeper than that.

I was hugging her good bye and she repeated her usual comment to me about her family. “We are all one,” she said, “you are my family. I am here because of you. I love you and my children love you.”

I smiled a warm smile back at her as we parted.

We had been talking about so many things – as good conversations do and one of the topics was her relationship with her partner. I said he was a lovely man and she smiled and said, “Yes, he is, but that’s only the side he likes to show to people. Behind the scenes it’s different.”

I was shocked. She could see the disbelief on my face. “But, “ I stammered, “but ...”

“He is a good man,” she said, “and I love him but ...”

I waited for her to finish the sentence. I didn’t have any words that would fit into that heavy space that was now between us.

She smiled then, hugging me again she said, “We all have to be happy. In here.” She pointed to her heart. I nodded and murmured my agreement. I knew there was something else she wanted to say, so I hesitated from going towards the door. Taking a step closer to me, she said, almost casually, “I can’t love one man and leave the care of my children. He can go at any time. They remain forever.  They are mine.”

Deep connections remain deep.

Is it time to change my timeline?

I like words. I guess that’s why I play Scrabble and other word games. But I like words more than for gaming purposes. I like words because they identify feelings, emotions and concepts in more different ways than I am able to be emotionally fluent in.

The Bible is full of words and I like reading it and understanding the concepts behind the stories and the messages held in those 66 books. I also really enjoy the works of Shakespeare, Milton, Blake and several more modern writers. The words seem to caress my soul with their beauty.

Often I feel I don’t have enough time to enjoy the wonder of books but I do manage to read something each and every day, and for that I feel blessed. I plan to make more time to read ... however, when I think about ‘making time’ I am drawn to the concept of what time is. I questioned ‘what are the ancient meanings of time’?

We are all familiar with chronos time: this is chronological or sequential time and many of us just watch as our individual life clocks go from one end to the other and eventually fades away. Then, that’s it, our life is over and we’ve stayed on the single track all the time. We’ve satisfactorily followed the timeline we’ve been given.

Less familiar is kairos time: this is an indeterminate time when something special happens. Some people have been known to say that kairos time is specially appointed time linked to the purpose of God. I then wondered what God would want for me and the answer always seemed to come back to happiness and fulfilment in one form or another.

I wonder if today it is time to alter you timeline and follow the special purpose of God in your own life; is it time to deviate from following the chronological path that so many people take but do not enjoy?

When I recently heard the words “it’s time” I knew that these words were like releasing the chains that held me because I was immediately freed from the past and I am now living in love right now. Part of my life purpose is to be free, happy, fulfilled and loved. I’m glad I heard the words and decided to jump tracks into my time!

Is it time to change your timeline?

Timing Love

Do you think that you can plan love? Apparently it is big business. People have websites, seminars and books on how to plan love.

I’ve always thought love happens in its own time. Maybe I’ve been wrong all these years and what I really needed was to book into one of those seminars, but that doesn’t matter now. I’ve found the right love for me, at just the right time.

We didn’t plan it, because love can’t tell time. It just is. Beautiful.

Mummy memories

If my mother had lived she’d have been well into her 80s now, but she didn’t live very long. She died younger than I am now, she died when I was just beginning to get used to being a teenager.

I’ll always miss her.

I was too young to realise that I could have been soaking up every moments, memory and magical time with her. I was busy trying to figure myself out ... still doing that now as it happens!

Being so focused on myself and surviving in a big family of huge personalities I stole precious moments of quietness with my mother. I would creep out of the house after her early in the mornings as she went to work as a cleaner in some local offices. I should have been sleeping before the busy school day but I always seemed to wake up as I heard her getting ready to leave the house. I thought at first that she didn’t know I was following her but I have come to realise that she knew much more than I credited her with.

Children always seem to think they are wiser than their parents and I guess it’s now that I’m realising that wisdom is not best forced onto people. Lessons can be played out in one decade and learnt in another, that’s the way of parental wisdom. My mother was a sage and I know this now.

Today I am grateful for the many moments that I had with her. Those quiet times in the deserted offices as the sun came up were most special. I’d follow her around as she diligently went about her work and sometimes I’d help with emptying the bins or playing with the hoover, but mostly I’d just watch her and enjoy my private time with her.

I remember those moments as times when dreams were formed. As I swung in the swivel chairs in those huge offices I would imagine myself sitting at a desk and working: I achieved that dream.

Walking home with Mummy after she’d finished working I’d be chatting about the maps on the walls of the offices, the places I planned to visit, the big diaries on the desks that were filled with important dates and names and the busyness that would enter that quiet space once we had left.

Our moments of special bonding remain with me after all these years.

Mummy keeps teaching me valuable lessons from the past. I’ll always love her and I’m still learning from her.

Me and Mummy ... a long time ago.

© MHMorgan 2012

Focus through tears and touch

Certain days make you focus on the important things in life. Today was one of those days.

There are times when you become linked to people you do not know through people you know and love. 

Introductions can be difficult at the best of times but in some circumstances it’s best to remain silent. 

Sometimes, like today, the only communication is done through tears and touch.

It may not be physical – either the tears or the touch, but however you make the communication show it brings life into sharp focus.

Today I should have been in bed. I was so ill, but I needed to be elsewhere. I awoke early and got ready slowly – I have been lacking speed in the recent week due to sickness. Once ready I steeled myself for the hours ahead. No matter how hard it was for me, my physical and emotional pain would be like a drop in the ocean for the people burying their dear relative that morning.

Funerals have a way of bringing life and relationships into sharp focus.

Right there before the coffin I became a part of group of people whose truths of love and life were brought sharply into focus as if placed under a giant microscope.

Saying goodbye is hard. Showing you care can be hard, but sometimes you just have to find that way to focus that emotion so the recipient may know ... one day.

Futile love exercises

What is love?

Ahh! The age old question that no one can answer with certainty or proof. Love just ... is.

Who you love is not guaranteed. There is no certainty or any specific formula to follow and get guaranteed results. Love is a mystery.  It always has been and I think it always will be.

This is why I have decided that I have had enough of attending the class ‘Futile exercise in love 101’. 

These sessions were aimed at educating me in how to stop loving someone I already love and also to teach me to love someone I had no connection with. What was the point? You may well ask ...

I spent some time wondering what this ‘connection’ was and I could get no clear answer.

This is where my conundrum comes in: love is both a mystery and not a mystery.

It is a mystery when it first occurs.

Love is organic, natural and magical. It just happens ... or it doesn’t. There is no formula that can be reproduced; it is unique between two people.

Love is also a mystery when you are trying to love someone you don’t love – it doesn’t work. Try to make love happen and it’s a totally different matter. It’s like reversing the natural, yet still mysterious, process of growing love, it is nigh on impossible.

This emotion, feeling, experience of love is so wonderful when a single person experiences it but so much more life-enhancing and encompassing when two people have the same sense of connection to each other.

Mysterious and ... lovely.

But yet – no mystery when you are in it. Just a marvellous sense of beauty, well being and rightness.

Mysterious and ... lovely.

Waiting

In films you sometimes see the moment of impact before it happens. Everything seems to go in slow motion. 

The knife glints, the bullet flashes and time freezes.

There seem to be moments like that in real life as well. When you are just waiting for something terrible and inevitable to become a fact ... of the present, and then – all too soon, of the past.

What I’ve found is that sometimes you have to wait for things that you don't want to happen. I always found it difficult to manage those moments. While thinking about my journey and others’ current journeys I wondered ‘how are you supposed to manage those moments?' I still don’t have any answers to give; all I have is my deepest love for those who are waiting in pain-lined days.

Like the scene in the film the first pain is expected and semi-prepared for. However, it’s the repeated aftershocks that also cause so much distress.

No one ever feels the same as anyone else when this happens. Each pain is unique. All I can offer is my love and friendship. You alone know how you feel in each moment and when you can reach out for ... anything. So I wanted you to know I am here for you if or when you need me. You remain in my heart, always.

Much love,

M.

Not invited and blissfully happy

By now you’ll have realised that I am a tad quirky and I have several encounters that I consider strange. Lord alone knows what many of you think about them ...

But, here is another one.

I was not invited to an event. I went. I had a wonderful time. The hosts were more than happy for me to be there ... seriously.

This is why ...

A birthday party was arranged. Guests were invited and the venue was prepared. I knew all about it, so I went along at the time that I knew it would start.

Hours later, after much fun, laughter, dancing, singing and playing had taken place, I left.

The following day I received a series of phone calls from the hosts, they were thanking me for being there, 

for their son’s first birthday party. I smiled and thanked them for the invitation and started to explain that I had had a great time.

They stopped me and said, “You weren’t invited ...” I didn’t know what was coming next but the laughter in the voice told me it was nothing to be ashamed of, “You don’t need to be invited,” the baby’s mother continued. “You are the same as us, you are family, we are one.” I laughed again and thanked her, but she hadn’t finished, “We will never invite you to anything as this is your home as well, you can come and go as you please. You helped us to plan it, without you it would not have been such a great success. You always make things wonderful. You play such a big part in our lives. We are one, sister, we are one!”

So, there you have it. I was not invited to an event. I went. I had a wonderful time.

Now. Then. Always.

Now

            I am looking forward

            but I have to look back ...

            and I realise that

Then

            some people never had

            a hint

            of the degree

            of affection that I’ll

Always

            have for them.

            It’s my gift of love

            to them

            that I’ll keep in my

            heart.

            Now.

            Then.

            Always.

© MHMorgan 2011 

Icebergs, ropes and sunshine

I remember being stuck behind an emotional iceberg for a long time and I became very familiar with the terrain. It is because of this journey that I am now able to recognise when others may be in the same position as I was in all that time.

I did, however, managed to escape so now I provide a search and rescue service to those who want or need it.

When I recently realised that a dear friend was trapped behind their own emotional iceberg I mustered up all my strength and threw a lifeline of love out to them; it appeared on their side of the iceberg as a sturdy rope that they grabbed, tied firmly around their body and started to move forwards.

What we both realised, as time passed, was that the sun was shining onto the top of the iceberg and it was melting thereby making the height of the blockade shrink with every forward step.

When they had fully emerged into the sunlight I was told that being sent the lifeline of love and hope was an act of beauty in the midst of desolation as they needed to know that they were loved but, at that time, they were unable to reach out for help.

Sometimes we are behind the icebergs ourselves, other times we have the ropes and sunshine on our side so we must use them to rescue others from their despair. 

Broken spirit

There are days when even Hercules would suffer under the physical and emotional strain of life. Despite all that you are currently bearing, you continue to exude a whisper of strength.  Inside I guess you are in pieces but because of your outside look people forget you are vulnerable, tender and fragile too.

I know that what you’re going through is the hardest journey, sometimes it can be easy to forget who you are on this road – the real you becomes invisible to the naked eye.

It gives you every reason to doubt people, but you should always hold on to the truth that you are well loved ... by someone – always.

I love you.

I see you. All of you.

Know now that you are not forgotten. I’ll never forget you.

Third party sadness

We all have our own pain. And sometimes we know we have too much of it. But there is a whole different type of pain that also causes deep grief. This is third party pain.

I have realised that you really hurt when people you care about are hurt or hurting. As much as you want to you cannot take their pain away. What I have found is that you can let them know that you care, deeply.

I have sent hugs and prayers to people who I cannot be with in person right now. They have always been eternally dear to me and, at this moment, they are too closely acquainted with that heart destroying pain.

Their first degree sadness is raw and debilitating.

My meagre offering to them right now is somewhere to rest and express that pain because I really care about what they feel.

The question

There comes a time when I begin to dread the question I feel people are going to ask because I am tired of answering it. You see, they never seem satisfied with my answer and then they want to change my life ... the way they think it should be.

What’s the dreaded question?

It’s simple really. A few words but they cover a whole lifetime of queries.

“How’s your love life?”

Ha!

Do you really mean ‘Am I seeing anybody?’ or ‘Any love interest on the cards’ or ‘Are you really still single?’, ‘What’s going on in your head! Just get somebody. It’s awkward to have a single friend.’

In that split second I have to decide what they really mean and how I will answer. Do I use humour, do I just tell them to mind their own business, or do I change the subject and then walk away?

The answer I want to give is, ‘My love life is ... nothing to do with you. If it was, then you’d already know all about it.’ But I don’t say that.

I usually just laugh and make some comment about them, saying that I will only ever be happy with them as my love interest. It usually causes more laughter because the people asking are always in a relationship.

Strange really.

Maybe I should ask them the same thing.

I don’t think they’d be too keen on answering that in the middle of a party. Who knows? Could lead to a whole different kind of party.

Forever single

Relationship templates are said to be created in the first few years of a child’s life. I know you can change things and make your own choices as you grow up but I wonder how much easier it is to blame your parents when things go wrong.

It may also be the most discrete way to ‘cop out’.

I have considered my own relationship choices and have concluded that I have a propensity towards impossible love options. I set my heart and mind on inaccessible love. I make long distance choices. I seem to purposefully select impractical and impossible matches. I know there are barriers that cannot be surmounted but I launch my grappling iron anyway – knowing it will never hold fast, because that was never my intention or design. I think I want to catch hold but not sure that I want to hold on. So I pull the rope back towards me: it’s not a fluke. I have made love impossible.

I wonder why ...

My belief is that I have come to believe things I saw when I was younger and things I have heard since I have grown.

One friend said to me, when I told her that I was separating from my long-term partner, “You’ll never find someone else as right for you. If you do separate ... you will be forever single.”

Maybe that’s what’s best for me.

Maybe that is what I’m choosing.

Maybe it’s time I rewrote my relationship template ... or I could stay happily forever single.