Cold and beautiful December, I welcome you.
With frosty mornings, bright, crisp days and the promise of powdery snow, it’s easy to see how we can get lost in the magic of the season. 🎄
From the twinkling lights, the scent of pine trees, the tingles of delight as carols relight the memories of Christmas past, the mouthwatering aroma of sausage rolls and mince pies filling our homes, the warmth of mulled wine or hot chocolate soothing our aching bones, the cosiness of the roaring fires, the joyful smiles of excitement illuminating children’s faces and the promise of making wonderful memories as we surround ourselves with the most important people in our lives, Family. December is like no other.
Winter is a beautiful season, but for some it holds sorrow and loneliness. Heartwrencing memories play torture with our hearts, as we remember the ones who came before us, who left their mark deep within our souls. How we long for just one last Christmas, wrapped soulfully in their love. ❤️
December always brings me bittersweet emotions, as my memories won’t let me forget or heal, no matter the years that pass, but through out the pain, I can not help but smile as I remember the gift of dancing flowers and the overwhelming love that always surrounded us. So even though Christmas past can be sorrowful, love and light drown out the bitterness that tries so desperately to consume and gratefulness for our memories only adds to the magical season.
So you may have noticed that it’s been a while since I filled this space with my ramblings, in truth I have no excuse for why, I just maybe feel a little lost and although it helps enormously to write those feelings of worthlessness down, I’m not entirely sure this is the right place to do so, but than I have this nagging feeling that my feelings of worthlessness and being lost, may help others to understand and start to deal with their own negative emotions.
I try so hard, so very hard indeed, to not let the negativity consume me but of late they are fighting harder than ever before and in truth I’m tired. I’m tired of putting a brave face on and pretending I’m ok, when all I want to do is scream at the top of my lungs, that life is just a little to much at times and that I’m not fine. That I find the cold and wet days extremely hard. That being stuck in these four walls day in, day out, a form of torture. That filling my days with cleaning, just to do it all again tomorrow is crushing my soul and I feel that’s all I’m good for.
My days should be full of company, laugher, hope, goals and dreams instead of a life dictated by the weather, where I live, taking tablets, injecting insulin and all the restrictions which come with my medical conditions.
Ok I’m not a spring chicken anymore but I’m still young and should be full of life, instead I’m constantly so blooming exhausted, so exhausted I fall asleep mid conversation. My body aches constantly, my mind is full of cottonwool and my anxiety and low self-esteem only adds to the loneliness and worthlessness, my failing health brings.
How I long to potter in my garden with the warmth of the sun soothing my freezing body. How I long to watch the seedlings I sow, come to life and fill their spaces with breathtaking beauty. To feel a sense of achievement which comes to me when the flowers smile back at me, as the bees and the butterflies dance from flower to flower. The calm my little hobby brings, is hard to explain but right now I need it more than I ever thought I would.
It’s not that I’m unhappy, I love my hubby and my beautiful boys, they bring me so much joy, they light up my world, they are everything and so much more but they are only part of me, a gigantic part of me but we all need more, we need to feel loved, appreciated and to feel like our own person. We need to feel ALIVE.
I dread the thought of my funeral, when they talk about my life. Will they only say I kept a nice house and nothing more?
I would love to be remembered for more than that, for my passion, for my mumbled words, for this space and it’s rambles, for my crochet and for the love for family and my dedication to not letting my ancestors and their lives and struggles, their joys and their achievements be forgotten.
Even reading that back, it’s kinda sad that my life can be summed up in a few short words. I know I’ll never achieve anything spectacular in my life, I’m not built that way. I’m never going to find a cure for cancer or make millions but I hope that when the day comes that I’m remembered, it’s for more than a tidy home.
Talking about my passions, I’ve starting researching again, thanks my my lovely sister in-law Sarah. I can’t thank you enough Sar, I needed that kick, without even knowing it. I’ve been concentrating on Mark side of the family which has been very interesting but I do feel like I’m treading on toes and that maybe it’s not my place to do so. I’ve struggled with those feeling for a very long time, years even and I think there will always be this unease while researching Marks family history, even though it was very kindly pointed out to me that these interesting incredible human beings are my boys, Con and Cals blood, which makes me feel a little easier about continuing to research their paternal lines but I really don’t want to upset anyone while doing so.
I’ve started back the very beginning, revisiting all my previous research. I’ve started buying certificates for each and every individual as I’m a great believer in backing up my research with documentation. It gives me a little peace of mind that I’m on the right track and I haven’t gone wrong along the way. Yes I’ll probably end up buying the wrong certificate here and there along the way but at least I will be a hundred percent confident in my research and findings.
I just received my first death certificate with the cause of death being, Tuberculosis. What an awful awful way to die and my heart goes out to them, thank goodness medical science has come on leaps and bounds since the awful days of TB.
I guess one day the world will look back at the Covid Pandemic and be as horrified as we are, reading about the horrors of tuberculosis and TB hospitals.
I finally the plunge and ordered a dna test from Ancestry for Mark for part of his Christmas present. He has already taken it and we eagerly await the results. Watch this space.
I promised last time I posted that I would share the information on the mystery of my 3rd Great Grand Father Jesse Townsend. I will get around to it I promise but that brings me on to my other passion in life Crochet.
When I not busy cleaning and tidying our home, I try to pick up my hook and do a little crochet, which mainly ends up with my hook in hand sound asleep. It so utterly frustrating and brings me down.
Mistakes then happen, resulting in pulling back weeks of work but rather that than continuing on with those mistakes that I know are there even if no one else notices.
I can’t share what I’m making quite yet as it’s a secret, but it’s kinda cool. Watch this space.
I’ve had to press pause on my Sholach Mosaic Christmas Trees blanket, as I’m up against a timeline. It’s disappointing that it won’t be finished in time for Christmas but I would rather see the joy on others faces when I hand over my secret project than rush to get both finished. To be honest, rushing isn’t a option due to not being able to stay awake. 💤
I’m sure there is so much more I can share with you especially about all the hospital appointments I’ve had to attend lately but I won’t bore you more than I have already.
Have a magical December, stay safe, stay true, stay you.
Too-da-loo for now.