It’s Christmas….

Posted on by frombrotherswithlove

My Father loved Christmas. He chose the tree carefully and inspected the decorations with the last item for the tip being his choice of finishing it all off. I can see him seating at the head of the table, drumming his fingers listening to Christmas music, a glass of wine infront of him, never half full, waiting for Christmas dinner to be served. It was always a joyous time with the whole family together, enjoying each others jokes and laughter in galore.

And Christmas should be joyous whether by family coming together, or just the two of you enjoying the Christmas celebrations with love. Presents, yes everyone is looking forward to presents, but love is the gift that will always be remembered. Not everyone is blessed with good health but showing and telling those closest to you that you love them goes a long way. If not now they will remember it some time later.

My Father may not be here in flesh but in spirit he will always be with me. I shall drink a glass of wine in his honor and celebrate the memories we have created. I will tell him how much I love him and send him kisses. I may carry his ashes with me in a ring on my finger but the memories will always be in my heart locked in there forever. There will be a sad moment, I’m sure, but for all of us who are still here the Christmas spirit must be kept festive and new memories created.

A Very Merry Christmas to you all….🎄🎄🎄

Both our Hearts….

Posted on by frombrotherswithlove

My Father may have suddenly been taken from me without saying goodbye but I am the one left behind to carry a burden of grief, guilt and endless tears. Or am I?

The one thing I carry with me is that He did not suffer too much in the last week of his life but even that I will not ever know for certain since I wasn’t there. It’s only on a say so of the doctors and nurses that were taking care of him. And I am grateful to them all and I respect them for being there, it’s just frustrating that after a week of him collapsing I actually do not know why he died that Saturday night. Without the slightest warning. All on his own.

My heart broke in a million pieces and my world came to a standstill at the news. I shed an enormous sea of tears until there were no more. Sleepless nights followed trying to make sense of it all yet nothing could calm a whirlwind in my head. How do you come to terms with not ever seeing the one you looked up to, learnt from, respected and loved with all of your heart ever again? How do you comprehend the enormity of life cut off out of the blue?

Life takes you on all sorts of journeys and tests every woman/man to their limits sometimes, but the strength comes from within. It comes from guidance and teachings of people who raised you, who instilled in you the love of yourself and respect for others. Never to give up and find happiness in little things first, only then you shall be worthy of more. And that’s what my Father has taught me. Little by little, be overwhelmed and filled with sadness but your inner strength will find a way of finding the light, shining in the lives who are still here because of him.

My heart bleeds every time he comes into my thoughts but I have now locked my Father in my heart and he will forever live in me and Leo&Raph. I will always remember him with love, fondness and optimism that I will see him again. I am eternally grateful for him being in my life, for being my Father and for all the memories we have created together. I let myself being sad that I won’t be able to hug him ever again, but at the same time I celebrate our time together every time my thoughts turn to him. If it all gets too much, which still does, I talk to him. It may just be in my head but I know he is listening. He is with me every day, forever, until the day I die. And both our hearts will be joyous again….

One with Nature..

Posted on by frombrotherswithlove

Once the snow has melted away and the nature awoke, flowering, growing, there were fruits to be picked in abundance. And we did it every year. Wild strawberries in May picked and eaten at that moment are just pure bliss. The cherries followed soon after. It’s a gift to us all that just keeps giving.

My Father and I picked spruce tips which you then layered in sugar in a glass, closed it tightly, and put it on the sun. Once the sugars melted you were left with thick syrup to mix with water like Ribena and it made a perfect refreshing drink any time of the year. The syrup is also used to calm a cough. And the spruce grows everywhere. We also picked arnica which was then soaked in alcohol and was used for cuts, grazes, anything that hurt really, at least my Father did and he always had a bottle handy. I only made a mistake of coming home with a grazed knee and telling my Father once. Arnica stings and stings and brings tears to your eyes, but it does the job, no infections to be found with the arnica around.

Through the summer into autumn blackberries, blueberries and raspberries were ready to be harvested. On the bikes we went and spent hours in the fresh air picking the goodies. And then there was rosehip, thorny but so very worthy. The jam made from rosehip is simply divine – my favorite still, as was my Father’s.

I have learnt from my Father all about the wild mushrooms as well. Porcinis were the ones we were hunting for mostly, but golden chanterelles (with scrambled eggs) and umbrellas (fried covered in breadcrumbs) were equally delicious. I have learnt about the poisonous ones to avoid and only pick the ones you actually know. If we came across a mushroom we have not seen before we looked in a book, yes we had a book with us, and if still unsure simply left it be. The nature will treat you exactly the way you are treating her.

My Father used to have a bag with him especially for picking litter. We were in the middle of the forest but you would still find a plastic wrapper just thrown on the floor or a rusty tin, or a piece of foil… If everyone took what they brought with them back home we would all have a wonderful world to live in. We could all breathe properly.

Through the summer holidays I also helped my Father to cut down trees and prepare the logs for the winter. I have been doing that since I was a child. I came to love splitting logs with an axe and found it a great release. It was hard work but utterly rewarding with an open fire through the winter. My Father was chopping trees down until he died in his 80ies, and the last conversation I had with him on that Sunday he was breaking up the ice in front of the house, with an axe of course. Never beaten, never gave up, lived to the full to his last breath. The one thing we did not do together, no goodbye….

Empowered by knowledge..

Posted on by frombrotherswithlove

My Father was a treasure trove of knowledge and regularly answered the quiz questions on TV programs correctly. He read numerous books, newspapers and loved watching documentaries about sport, nature, history of the world… He was a great conversationalist and an asset to any socializing event. He could hold court with politicians or working folk, paupers or royalty. He kept up with the latest news, scrolling through teletext first thing in the morning and watching the 7.30pm news program every evening. He made informed decisions, had strong opinions on politics and stuck to them, he did not fly with the wind.

The dominant feature on TV through my childhood was sport. All sorts. We watched all the Olympic games, winter and summer, World Cup Football, with England having a special place in his heart, World Cup Skiing and Ski Jumping every weekend of the season, Ice Hockey competitions and of course The Athletics circuit. We played football and badminton, skied and ice skated, hiked hills and mountains, all with my Father. The wonderful outdoors with all the fresh air, the physical aspect and the winning feeling of any sport is my Father’s legacy for generations to come.

My Father also liked to prove people wrong, as I do. I remember my PE teacher putting my name forward for cross-country running once and my Father said: ‘ You are not a runner I am afraid.’ I did go to the competition and came to finish, with tears rolling down my cheeks, second from last. Needless to say I did not attend any more running competitions but through sheer determination and the strength of my character ran a marathon 30 years later and felt proud beyond belief. Even my Father was impressed. It can be done if you put your heart and hard work in it.

The ‘it cannot be done’ can only not be done if it’s been tried. But it can…

‘Do not try this at home.’