It’s time to say good-bye to the year of change. Not only have we learnt, as humans, just how destructive we can be, we have found that love, compassion and kindness still exist. It survives and thrives on the burning embers and scattered remains of humanity’s desperate attempt to survive.
In the midst of the horrors that have occurred over 2020, we have witnessed the re-establishment of communities fighting for their weakest, holding up institutions filled with heroes willing to martyr themselves in their battle against an invisible enemy. Some of us less brave souls could only clap in unison to express our gratitude to them at assigned times each week, whilst others made sure those warriors were fed and watered during their most enduring of wars.
it is sad to mention a minority who formed a thick layer of denial against the truths of what was occurring. They rallied support through social media to defend their stance that a dystopia movement was imminent; our rights were slowly being eroded. Yet, they used those same rights they were afraid to lose to undermine the safety of others, choosing to be conduits for the deadly enemy, both mentally and physically.
And here we stand now, with the weaponry to keep the enemy at bay but racing against a ticking clock. How fast can we vaccinate humankind before more souls are taken or our enemy mutates again?
As we count down the hours to a new year, let us think of those brave enough to battle for our rights to live. Let us think about the souls already lost and those willing to use their bodies as conduits to test the resistance of vaccines against an enemy capable of mutating itself into new strains of monster.
Use these thoughts to help you cope with the silent nights and empty streets. We are all in the void together. Yet, we move. This won’t be forever. So, stay strong. Stay in. Stay safe. Tomorrow is a new year.
Happy new year to you all. I hope to see you on the other side soon.
Posted in If We Were Having Coffee, Weekly Trail
Tagged #covid19, bloggers, blogging, blogs, culture, death, family, friends, friendship, mourning, new year, Readers, relationships, sickness, virus, writing
Hi and welcome to the new bat cave. It’s with great sadness that I have to show you an empty cup and seat at the table today. My friend, work colleague and a great supporter of my work, has passed away. A gaping hole will be left in our school and our hearts at her loss. She was a true fighter, battling cancer and still putting others and her work first till the very end. There are few people you meet in life who show such strength and endurance beyond a normal human capacity – she was one of them.
So, as we sit together in the new bat cave, I propose a toast: to Rebecca. May we continue with even half the strength, motivation and love she shared with this world and change the lives of those around us for the better, just as she did.
Posted in Weekly Trail
Tagged #mondayblogs, #MondayCoffee, #mondaycoffeeshare, bloggers, blogging, blogs, coffee, family, friendship, loss, Monday coffee, mourning, Readers, relationships
They say, running away from your problems solves nothing. Well, I love to be different! Continue reading
Posted in Life of Henry, Weekly Trail
Tagged #dogstrust, blogging, blogs, death, dogs, loss, mourning, pets, poetry, sadness
Hello and welcome home. The kettle is boiling and I’ve stacked up some delicious pastries for our coffee morning. Why not go on through to the living room and take a look at the Christmas tree.
After another weekend of sickness bugs and the flu doing its round in our home, I’m really looking forward to the final week of school. Not only will my work be winding down but this is my last week of uni studies too before the Christmas break.
How has your term been? Have you found an increase in sickness in your home around this time of year?
Those who follow me on Facebook will know that our family suffered a great loss three weeks ago, which I feel now contributes to the low mood in our household and the slow healing process. It has been difficult and sometimes involves heart-breaking chats about death with my youngest sprog who is still spiralling from the loss of his best friend – the four-legged kind.
Filling that cavernous hole left by our beloved dog, Henry, we’ve decided to fill our Christmas with little events that will pick up our spirits. Planning a special family dinner and prepping for our traditional bake-off on Christmas Eve seems to have helped and the promise of a new plan for the new year has the family focused towards the future.
What has caught us all by surprise are the cats – they’ve taken over the house! From sleeping in our bedroom to vocalising their every need, they’ve decided that us hoomans need to serve them and enjoy their presence in a way cats can only force you to endure. When they think we aren’t looking, they congregate on the landing and sit there like Stonehenge monoliths, silently engaging in cat conversations that end abruptly when they notice a hooman walking by. This circle of secret silence unnerves me and I do feel the balance of power slipping away from the two-legged members of the family! So, if you see little paws reaching for your knee, run!
On that note, I’d best let you escape our mad house before the cats rope you into cleaning their cat box of feeding them every few hours. Enjoy the festive season and do keep in touch.
Thanks for stopping by.
Posted in If We Were Having Coffee, Weekly Trail
Tagged #henrycarlisledesousa, #mondayblogs, #MondayCoffee, #mondaycoffeeshare, bloggers, blogging, blogs, children, coffee, death, dogs, family, friends, friendship, life, love, mourning, pets, relationships, sadness, sickness
Crows huddle in their blackened shrouds
A treasured box of bones to behold
With fluttered wings they flounce and flow
Their lives tethered to stringed souls
Council leads the ghastly meet
The murder sing songs of fading remembrance
A requiem soliloquy so carefully laid
Words delivering life’s sweet vengeance
Wet beaks and muttered parochial verse
The only sustenance offered
As washed out eyes take in the scene
A memory of love once suffered
Lowly clouds gather above
Witness to one more ending
The ebb of life once fast and free
To heaven or Hades, now sending
Copyright held by Eloise De Sousa (2017)
I may not be a Book Thief
As I watch the bloodied sands
Of time connecting destiny
To the evil of man,
A Girl On A Train may be the last face
I see this mournful night.
As we bid farewell to the children,
Their future now in hindsight,
A wishful dream of peace lays derelict
As I count the grains and cry.
I still feel an overwhelming sense of loss when I hear this song, and I feel like crying. But then I remember how much you loved this song and the way you smiled when it played.
I still miss you so,
It may only be six months,
But I miss you more
Time has given no comfort
I may smile and play
Laugh all day
But I still miss you so.
Now that you’ve gone
All the memories
Fights we’ve lost and won
Happy games we played
The children have grown
And my heart still groans
Because I still miss you so.
Special days, like anniversaries
And your birthday, don’t forget Christmas
As I plan each day, I pause to say
How Mum would have loved
Each of these moments
And I still miss you so.
My tears still fall on the inside
There’s no time to stall in this busy hive
So I move along and hum your favourite songs
Thinking of your smile, your jokes and wicked humour
The way you riled me so easily and we’d knock heads
No-one’s there to fill me with dread and laughter
So I still miss you so.
Good-bye my pretty Bird,
Fly away free
Never mind the tears
They’re not for you, but for me.
Good-bye my golden friend
The one who drives me mad
Even now I smile at memories
That share my life with you, making me glad.
Good-bye our precious grandmother
The children loved you a tonne
I told them when I came home
You gave me the last touch
So the game continues on!
Good-bye my pretty little bird
Death has collected you at a young age
How peacefully you left us
To say farewell to your empty cage.
RIP Mum 11/12/1944 – 25/04/2015
Copyright Eloise De Sousa (2015).
Posted in Poetry, Weekly Trail, Wensfriesday
Tagged bird, cremation, death, funeral, in memory of, mothers, mourning, parents, wensfriesday