Sad Sundays

Our son died on a Sunday morning, he had gone to work as he did every Sunday to do the milking for a farmer that he had worked for for many years. He knew the herd very well and had assisted more than a few of them into this world. Amongst them was his favourite cow, Whiskey. This is how I think about that morning.

Sunday Morning

Soft mist over cool green Devon fields
Dew sparkling in the early morning sun
A gentle breeze murmuring through the hedges.
Cows with kindly brown eyes
Stand in silent confusion, heavy with milk,
First a patient lowing then
A shifting of their hooves
A quickening of their breath
A snort, a nudge.
But still the steady drone of the tractor
Stopped forever in a moment of time.

Then the sound of sirens, all peace destroyed
The herd scatters, then when all is quiet
They return silently
Carefully probing the empty tractor.
For a moment they are lost
Something has changed.
But the call of the Milking Parlour is strong
And they must answer.
Only one remains
Whiskey remembers.

A gentle day out

Last wednesday we loaded up the bikes and went off to the Canal du Midi for a bike ride followed by lunch. It was a lovely sunny day, well we don't do bike rides otherwise!! The photo was taken during the ride, I really wasn't sure if the barge was going to fit under the bridge, they had already had to take a load of water to lower the boat. But it just made it.

For a surprise I had decided to take the OH to a restaurant that we first visited 20 years ago when we had our first holiday on the Canal. It could have turned out badly as I didn't even know if the restaurant was still there, we had not been back since. But luckily for me it was and I had even found a photo of our visit in June 1988, I can safely say we don't look a day older. Well I can say that because I'm not showing you the photo, or the one that the proprietor took 20 years later. By the way it was the same owner although he didn't remember us!!!

We had a lovely lunch on the terrace overlooking the Canal. It was that holiday on the Canal that inspired us to buy a property in France and we haven't fallen out of love with France or the Canal since. For more info and some stunning photos about this amazing feat of engineering go to http://www.canalmidi.com/ . We had a lovely day out.

Life continues even though there are bad times we manage some good times aswell. We have lots to be getting on with here, demolition to do before the builders start, stripping walls ready for redecorating, and the OH has started on some retaining walls to stop the garden falling onto the shed he wants to build. And I have managed to write a bit more of my wip, so I think we are moving forward slowly. I will post some photos soon of the work we have been doing. Also some more poems because they help. Then one day back to some farm tales.

Two months gone

Thanks again for all your lovely comments and for sharing this time with us.


It has been two months since our son died. Sometimes it seems like a lifetime ago or that it happenned to someone else. I don't really want to accept that he died. It goes against the natural order of things to bury your children.

I know that I was at his funeral but it feels as if it was someone else there not me. That I was a spectator not a participant. I find it very hard to explain my feelings but utter helplessness comes closest.

Usually I feel in control of the events in my life but now I am powerless, absolutely nothing I can do except find a way forward. Which I am trying to do but it's hard, very hard.

I have managed to start reading again which I wasn't able to do for about 6 weeks and this morning I have managed about 250 words of my wip. I am determined more than ever to finish my novel and dedicate it to the memory of my son.

These are some of the poems that I write in the small hours when I cannot sleep.


I am numb.


I sleepwalk through the waking hours
Shuffling slowly with leaden feet.
Then when the night comes
I lay watchful with sad heart.
Sleep eludes me as images
And thoughts crowd my mind.
So the days and nights pass slowly by.

--------



In the daylight hours I banish thoughts of you
Then when I lay down at night
Your voice and face come unbidden
But they are welcome.
The edges of reality are blurred
Tears fall silently to ease the pain
Are you really gone?

Finally sleep comes
But in the morning
You are gone
And I am desolate.

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I hear his voice in the dark "Hiya Mum"
I reach out to touch him
But he is not there, he is gone.



It helps to put my thoughts on paper as I can't express them out loud.
Now I am off for a run which also helps me get things in perspective and I shall be visiting blogs and catching up with the recent innovations here which seem to have passed me by.