The Light That Said Goodbye

Before I can begin to tell this story I need to prepare the groundwork and let you know where I was and what was going on in the life of my family and I at the time:

When I still lived in London and would go out at weekends I would often go back to my parents house instead of my apartment so that I could wake up on a Sunday morning with my Mum and Dad, have Sunday dinner there and also get to sleep in my old bed in my old room which my Mum always kept for me.

My Grandmother who had been such an independent and strong woman all of her life, a woman who survived the poverty and total devastation of the war, survived the loss of her Husband and her family home, succumbed to Alzheimer's Disease in the last eight years of her life.
Her independence, dignity and strength ripped away from her by this terrible disease.
She lost most present day memory and only remembered past happenings, especially the war of which, remarkably, she still remembered every single detail.

In the beginning my Mum had her living in the family home and she was taking care of her but in the last couple of years it got too dangerous as my Grandmother was getting up at all hours of the night and walking downstairs, unlocking the door and leaving the house in her nightdress and slippers, as well as sometimes putting the gas cooker on in the kitchen without lighting it.
Many times we had to call the police to find her as we would wake up in the mornings with the front door of the house wide open, the house stinking of gas, and no sign of Nan...
So, even though my Mum felt absolutely guilty and terrible doing it, the Doctors said that she really should be in a nursing home where she would get 24 hours care and safety, as living at home she was a danger to herself and everyone else.

There's a wonderful film detailing the total destruction of Alzheimer's on a strong independent woman's life called "Iris" which is the true life story of the wonderful intelligent writer Iris Murdoch, starring Judi Dench, Kate Winslet and Jim Broadbent. It depicts very accurately how Alzheimer's affects everyone in the family.
I highly recommend this film to anyone interested in this subject, or even if you are just interested in seeing a true powerhouse acting performance by Judi Dench, Kate Winslet and Jim Broadbent...

So back to my story:

It was an early Sunday morning and I was arriving home from a club. I climbed the stairs in our family home and went into my bedroom, getting undressed and ready to get into bed.
On the ceiling of my bedroom was a spotlight fixture which had three spotlight bulbs, I had them all on...
All of a sudden there was a "pop" noise and all three spotlight bulbs burned out, altogether... not one but all three. I thought it was strange...
The electricity was all o.k. in the house and everything else was working, the only problem was with my spotlights.
I remember looking at the time and it was just after 4.a.m. I got into bed, thought nothing more of it and went to sleep.

At 8.a.m. my Father was shaking me awake and said to me "Son, I have some bad news, Nan passed away during the night" It was such a shock to be woken up with such sad news and I then remembered my spotlights and asked my Dad "What time did she pass away?" he said "We're not really sure but the nurses think around 4.a.m..."

I went downstairs to the living room, which was full of tears, and told my Mum about the strange thing that had happened with my lights in my room.
Mum looked at me, her eyes blood-red from all her tears, and said "That was Nanny coming to say Goodbye to you!" "Do you think so?!" I said "Absolutely! at the very same time that she passed away?! of course it was her, Son! Ahh that's so wonderful!"
I felt a sense of happiness at this very sad time to think that my Nan had come to say her final farewell to me, knowing that I was the only one awake in the house at that time.

Some weeks later My Mum was woken up in the middle of the night with the telephone ringing next to her bed, she picked it up and said that she heard a woman's voice that sounded very much like my Nan.
"Mum?!" my Mum said down the phone and then the line went dead.
The next day my Dad said that she must have been dreaming as she was in a very fragile state but Mum always swore that she wasn't dreaming and that she was indeed wide awake.

A couple of years passed and we forgot all about my bedroom spotlight and Mum's telephone call, or we at least put it at the back of our minds...

One day my Mum and I arranged to go to see a medium whose name was Nella Jones. This woman is famously accurate and has helped the police with many murder cases and missing children where she has found the burial sites and the victims through her clairvoyant skills and contact with the dead. She is what was known as a real medium and had a six month waiting list to get an appointment to see her at her home.
The day came and we entered her home very nervously, we had spent months talking about our expectations and how exciting it was going to be. We had our reading together as Nella Jones said that, being as we were Mother and Son, our bond would help her to get an accurate message from someone. We didn't tell her that Nan had died recently and neither did we tell her who we were expecting a message from.

"My Darling" she said to my Mum "I've got an extremely strong woman here, her love for you is beyond anything, she's saying that she's your Mum" My Mum was crying and just listening, Nella went on: "She's giving you a rose here" (roses were my Mum's favourite and everyone knew that, especially Nan) "And she's saying that she has tried to call you on the phone a few times..."
Well Mum and I just looked at each other, shocked, and with tears streaming down our faces, this certified that it was true, well we believed it.
Nella spoke about many more things with my Mum, mostly personal, and most of what turned out to be many facts from my Mum's childhood, including the fact that Mum was the only child who stayed with my Nan throughout the war as she was still a baby, whilst her Brother and Sisters were all evacuated to the countryside.
We had goosebumps...

Then Nella turned to me and said "My love, your Nan is saying that you're an angel, an angel sent from heaven" I started crying, Mum too, as Nan always used to call me her angel and in the later years of her Alzheimer's Mum would say to her "Who am I Mum?" and Nan would reply "I don't know who you are" then Mum, very upset, would reply "Mum it's me... your Daughter!" and Nan would reply "No you're not, I don't have a Daughter!"
Then Mum would point at me and say "Who's this Mum?" and Nan would say "That's my Donnie! he's an angel, an angel from heaven!"
Somehow she never forgot who I was, but my Mum was always heartbroken that Nan never remembered who she was in her final years.
Alzheimer's is such a cruel disease that robs people of their souls.

Next Nella said to me "Now then, your Nan is saying that it's very dark in your bedroom..." (I still hadn't got the lights fixed as I lived in my own apartment during the week) "And she's saying that a light went out in your room the night that she passed on.... she's telling me to tell you that it was the only way she could say Goodbye"

Mum and I left there at the end of the reading full of tears, we felt closer to Nan and would talk all about it for months afterwards... but my Dad always remained skeptical.

Many years later when my Dear Mum passed away and I was at the airport in Rio, waiting for my sad flight back to London, there was a power-cut throughout the area and the airport was in darkness for about ten minutes. That was the point when I decided to phone my Dad and he told me the terrible news that Mum had just passed away.
I didn't connect the power-cut with her death but Antonio (who knew all about the spotlight going out in my bedroom at the time of my Nan's death) looked at me afterwards and said "You know what that power-cut was don't you? it was your Mum saying Goodbye to you! She was sending you a message"
"Do you think so?" I said, full of tears "Of course!" he said "Don't you think that she would let you know in that way? the very same way that your Nan said Goodbye to you years ago?!"

We held each other and I prepared myself for the loneliest and saddest trip of my whole life; thirteen hours flying all the way back to London, walking through to the departure lounge alone with my eyes looking at the floor, feeling helpless and as if I were ten years old again, returning to my family home where my Mum no longer was... the loving glue that held us all together through good times and bad.


Goodnight Mum, Goodnight Nan, sleep tight and don't let the bugs bite! xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

"And The Best Thing" - Original Song By Me

I've been driving miles and miles,
Just to see one of your smiles,
The road's been long and dusty,
But I know that you're the one.

And my heart is beating fast,
Cos I know it's gonna last,
This heart's been broken twice before,
But they say third time's the charm.

So now I'm looking to the future,
And I know I've got so much more to see,
There's an open road right in front of my eyes,
And the best thing...
Is you're travelling it with me.

There's a ring upon my left hand,
As I walk across this heartland,
Every day you say you love me,
And each word I hear is true.

I've a memory full of past pain,
I was beaten by the hard rain,
But you came along and saved me,
And every day I smile with joy.

So now I'm looking to the future,

And I know I've got so much more to see,

There's an open road right in front of my eyes,

And the best thing...

Is you're travelling it with me.
Yes the best thing...
Is you're travelling it with me.

© 01/2009

This post has been awarded runner-up contender for "Post Of The Day" for 13/01/2009 over at David McMahon's Blog Thank you very much David!

"Saved By My Mother's Love" - Original Poetry By Me

Drifting, drifting out to sea,
Far away from shore,
I look for you but I'm alone,
Can feel my feet no more.

Gasping, gasping precious air,
My heart is feeling faint,
My life is flashed before my eyes,
It all just looked so quaint.

Searching, searching everywhere,
For your love that always guided,
I feel it all around me,
And my mind is all one-sided.

Wishing, wishing you were here,
To see you once again,
Missing every part of you,
Looking through life's window pane.

Drowning, drowning in your arms,
I search for your smile above,
With my last breath I find you,
And I'm saved by my Mother's love.

© 01/2009

Tell Me About The War Nan!

When I was a child and spent so many treasured minutes, hours, days, weeks, months and years with my Grandmother I would often say to her "Tell me about the war Nan!"
And she loved to sit and tell me all the intricate details of that terrible time in London during World War 2.

From a very early age my Nan was my hero as all the things that she had had to endure during those years was something unbelievable and even at a very young age I knew that and respected her so much. She was such a very strong woman, a warrior really.

In fact I was raised by an army of strong women: my Mother, my Aunts and my Grandmother and I was surrounded by their tales of bravery and survival at a time when all they had were each other.

My Grandmother married very young and had 5 children; 4 girls and a boy, and my Mother was the youngest, a "war baby" at only 3 months old.
My Grandfather was sent away to fight on the frontline and after 5 months my Grandmother received a telegram saying that he had been killed in action, so my Grandmother and her children were left to fend for themselves alone in the London blitz.
"I'll never forget the day I had to sign for that telegram" she said "As I read it my legs gave way and I collapsed there on the doorstep... nothing would ever be the same again"
Life must have been devastating enough upon hearing that she had lost her dear beloved Husband without the fact that London was a city being bombed by the Germans each and every night, endless devastation.

"We just all knew that we had to get on with it: no need complaining..." she would often tell me as I would look at her in awe at how strong she was "I would help whoever I could and we all rallied around to help each other and make sure we all had food to share with our friends and neighbours who all had young children to feed" she would tell me "And I would go to the pawn shop and pawn whatever I could so that I could get a little bit of money to help us or anyone in need too" - a real lesson for people nowadays who don't even know who their neighbours are eh?!

She would go to the local London Underground station each night, which had become the air-raid shelters of London. As soon as the air-raid sirens would begin to sound she would run there, through the streets, with her children in tow.
She would be there with my Mum and my Aunts and Uncle, all huddled up with the rest of the neighbourhood's women and children as the sounds of the bombs were going off overhead, the terrible sounds of war and destruction above ground.
She would tell me about the games they would all play there, the songs they would all sing, the dancing, endless cups of tea from the prepared flasks and sandwiches shared with the people sitting around them, all to keep each other's spirits up... that British spirit that is unbeatable in times of hardship and war, nobody survives like the British.

One morning when they all went back home after a night in the underground tube station they turned the corner into their street and were greeted by their house: totally devastated by a bomb, everything destroyed, everything lost, a mountain of rubble and bricks...
I remember my Nan's tears as she told me: "The only thing I could think of were all the photos, all the memories that were in that house and I crawled through the rubble on my hands and knees picking up the remnants of my life, trying to save all the little things as my knees poured with blood"
I would be crying with her as she told me all of this with a heavy heart, endless rivers of tears running down her cheeks as if it had happened only yesterday... "The only memory I had of my dear Hubby were my photos in that house"
She did salvage some photos and she would show me them with pride, a time long-gone, an end of an era in that house, her loving home.

Neighbours took her in and gave her and her children a room to stay until she found a new home.
They had nothing; no money, no home, no belongings or clothes "But we had each other and that was all that mattered" she told me "Nothing has more value than your own children"
And the war went on....

My Aunts and Uncle, being the eldest, were all evacuated to the countryside and my Mum stayed with my Nan in London as she was still a very small baby.
She did eventually get a new house and started getting it all fixed up and ready, with the help of friends and neighbours, in time for when my Aunts and Uncle would come home again.

I have nothing but total admiration and love for my Grandmother who raised 5 small children alone during a very hard time of war, a time when food was rationed and hard to find, a time when so many people were dying, not only from the bombs but also from diseases and starvation that were so common at that time.
She survived and so did my Mum and her 4 siblings, all growing up without their Father, something that haunted my Mum until the day she died.
It's remarkable how they all survived really and I wouldn't be here today without my Grandmother's love, strength and determination to keep herself and her children alive.

My Grandmother was famous among friends and neighbours as the kind woman who would help anyone, who would herself go without food to give it to a friend's child, who would give warm clothes to a family who needed them, who would share her flask of tea with the family sitting next to them in the London Underground air-raid shelter... who would still find time to laugh in the face of a London at War, still give my Mum and her siblings a happy and very loving childhood.

Yes my Grandmother was my hero! and a hero to many other people too and she would love it when I would look into her wise old eyes with my own innocent 8 year old eyes and say to her: "Tell me about the war Nan!"

Slime In A Tea Cup!

When I was a child I was very mischevious and my main "victim" was usually my ever-patient and trusting Grandmother...

Growing up in the 80's I was a huge fan of "Slime" which was a green gooey mess, kind of like a mix between a soft rubbery ooze and wallpaper paste which was sold in small plastic green "dustbins" - exactly like in the photo above.
I could often be found playing with this non-toxic stuff and spreading it across the kitchen table or rolling a small amount into a "snot-like" shape and hanging it from my nose...

One day I was at my Grandmother's house during the school holidays and we were having a cup of tea whilst sitting and talking at the kitchen table.
Nan always kept a big teapot of tea on the table, ready to refill our cups various times.
She went to the kitchen sink to wash some dishes and my mischevious mind went into action...
Her tea cup was only a quarter full with tea and I took a handful of my Slime and dropped it into her cup....
Now her cup of tea was full to the brim, looking exactly like a full cup of tea.

She sat down at the table, looked at her cup and said to me "Oh good boy!!! you've poured me another cup of tea!" as I sat there trying very hard to look like a little angel and not laugh...

My Grandmother took a big gulp of her "tea" and swallowed the green slime, choking and looking at me.
I began laughing uncontrollably and showed her the green plastic slime container, laughing even more... histerically and almost wetting myself.
As she realised what I had done she took one look at me and said "You Little Bastard!" and ran to the toilet unsuccessfully trying to vomit up the green slime...
I'll never forget her words as it was her trademark nickname for me whenever I did something naughty.

Actually I never understood why she trusted me so much...
Another time was when I had bought "joke sweets" from a joke shop, which tasted nice at first but after a minute were hot like pepper within the mouth, so hot that you could only spit them out and drink glassfulls of water afterwards.

"Have a sweet Nan!" I said as I offered her a paper bag with the joke sweets inside...
"Ahh thanks boy!" she said as she took a sweet and put it in her mouth.
I started laughing as she said "Ooh they're nice!" only to spit it out minutes later as she gasped for air, drinking a big glass of water as her face turned crimson red...
Once again I was laughing like a lunatic as she said to me "You Little Bastard!"
However she always saw the funny side some minutes later and would be laughing along with me too.

I really miss my Grandmother! I was a real "Little Bastard" but she always loved me and laughed along with me every time.
I think we had a very similar sense of humour and my British sick sense of humour hasn't changed much over the years!! :)

"A New Day Is Here" - Original Poetry By Me

Out with the old,
And in with the new,
A new day is here,
And the sky is all blue.

Run to the sand,
And dive in the sea,
Cleansing your soul,
In pure harmony.

Wash all the negative,
And just look ahead,
Smile for the new year,
The old year is dead.

So here's to a new day,
Bringing laughter and cheer,
Meet new friends and old friends,
Wishing Happy New Year.

© 01/2009