Who Are You?

Posted on by frombrotherswithlove

Do you know who you are? Are you the person you WANT to be? Are you YOU?

I am and I love who I am.

I am a woman, a strong woman who loves her job, her two boys, her husband and I love the challenges every day throws at me.

I am kind, thoughtful, helpful and fair. I do not make excuses, I admit to my mistakes and learn from them, all. I am hard working and enjoy what I do. I am loving and loved. I take full responsibility for my decisions and believe that I am where I am through my own choice. I do not have regrets, I cannot change the past.

I am 5’8” tall and I weigh around 9 and a half stone. I stopped growing at 16 and I have been the same weight since I was 22 years old. I haven’t weighed myself in years, but I have been buying the same size clothes for the last 25 years. I love how I look and feel.

I love sport, always have. But I did not have Ipads, Xboxes and Social Media when I was growing up. I lived, outdoors. Football, volleyball, running, skiing, skating, climbing, walking, I had fun. I read newspapers and books, lots of books.

I decide what I do, who I am and where I want to go. I am happy with me and I am comfortable in my own skin.

Are you?

Routine…

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I simply cannot live without it. Routine to everyday life keeps my life organized, keeps me in control and most of all gives me time for me. The older I am getting the more important I am to myself. I need and want time to be able to have my nails done or go to hairdressers or simply read a book. That is on top of a full time job, looking after the boys, keeping the house in order and making sure the whole family eats healthily. It’s my pet hate – cooking – but I do it nonetheless. I am being harsh but I eat to live and not eat to live. No Michelin stars here but it’s all from scratch and healthy.

I like simple dinners, especially since I had a very troubled relationship with food in my early twenties. I was a bulimic and until a colleague at work said to me ‘ Whatever you are eating or not eating you need to stop. You’ll soon look like a skeleton and it doesn’t suit you.’ I looked myself in the mirror and did not like what I saw. There and then I decided to figure out what I actually liked to eat and went on the journey of Atkins Diet. It was a perfect start to my journey of recovery from bad choices. No sugar, no starch and no flour. It was brutal but so rewarding. My weight has been the same for the last 30 years and I can still fit into my prom dress.

It was a choice but one of the best I have ever made. From limited food choices I started adding the ones I actually loved, from nuts to fruit and vegetables, meat and fish, brown/seeded bread, brown rice and wholewheat pasta, everything cooked afresh. I also very much like chocolate, mixed with nuts preferably and I eat it every day. Everything in moderation. My hair was shining again, nails were stronger, I had lots of energy and I was happier within myself. I still am now. And so are the boys. I ate the same when pregnant and breastfeeding. They have no allergies, no behavior problems and plenty of energy. They are growing into strong, healthy individuals with sports and fresh air in galore.

And here we are back to the routine. It all starts with awakening, every day at the same time. I start the day with good old black coffee and hot lemon water to flush the system. And then the organized chaos begins. Breakfast is eaten at the kitchen table, followed by getting changed into school clothes, pack the bags, washing machine on, tidy up and off to enjoy another day at school, work ready for the challenges being thrown at us. I leave the house tidy. The boys tidy up after themselves, it’s the least they can do. We scooter or bike to school. I even went on rollerblades and was called the coolest mum ever. Nothing wrong with being different. The boys get fresh air before hitting the school tables and I refresh my brain before going to work. Our little way of saving the planet as well.

After school I brought with me snacks for the boys – bananas, apples, pears, plums, strawberries, raspberries, any fruit and nuts of any sorts mixed with raisins or a bar like Eat Natural, Alpen anything that slowly releases energy into the system. Then I took the boys to the park – letting them loose running around, climbing obstacles in the playground or making the most of the swings and toboggans. By trying to do it all by themselves they have learnt their limitations and at the same time challenge themselves to succeed. They have learnt how to fall and pick themselves up again. Football was regularly played and tennis was one of our favorites as well.

Once we came home, we all changed into home clothes and then it was homework for the boys, while I started getting the dinner ready. If there was no homework we did spelling tests or practising timetables. Dinner was served at the same time every day, between 5 and 6 pm, depending on football/rugby training schedule. Always at the table and together. The dinner was followed by dessert – in the form of ice cream, chocolate biscuits anything with chocolate instead of sweets that get stuck to your teeth. I am not a fan of them anyway. To drink the boys liked Ribena but otherwise it was just simply water throughout the day. After dinner we all relaxed by watching a film or spent an hour on iPads playing games. When the boys were little it was easier to control how much time they spent on their digital gadgets. It is possible to limit them as long as they have something else to do or they have earned their time on them. Rules are rules and at the end of the day the children and their wellbeing are our responsibility.

Bed time started with the bath, pyjamas and reading. At the weekend we often visited the library and the boys chose their books themselves. Every evening for an hour it was reading time before the lights were switched off and they went to sleep. And that was when I had time for me, myself and I.

Fresh Air and Some…

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At every opportunity, any given day, despite the weather, at the weekend, walking/cycling/scootering to nursery/school, after school, whenever possible…. The young brains need to be aired and Leo&Raph’s certainly were. It was good for the mum as well. It was our time together. They learnt how to climb, how to jump, how to crawl and how to fall without crying, simply brushing themselves off and enjoying the rest of the day. The tears only ever came when they really hurt themselves, which luckily was very rare.

In the summer at weekends I’d pack sandwiches, fruit, nuts and chocolate in the rucksack and off we went on the bikes for the day, stopping in the playgrounds on the way or kicking ball in the park. We would take a bus up the mountain and walk all the way back home, discovering wild animals, nature at its best, soaking up the warmth of the sun or go for a swim in the lake.

In winter, with snow all around us, we would grab sledges and walk through the forest up to a mountain hut where we would stop for a wonderfully delicious casserole and blueberry/cheese strudel with a hot chocolate. Once the bellies were full we would sledge down the mountain screaming of joy all the way. Raph, the daredevil, loved to go as fast as possible. My heart was in my mouth on many occasions. Leo on the other hand was always more cautious but nonetheless fearless.

The sport I absolutely loved to pass on to the boys was skiing. I taught them myself, between my legs they found their first turns and soon found their own feet and styles. Leo was the classy skier with perfect turns and calculated speed to maximum perfection, Raph was more aggressive and only interested in how fast he would get to the bottom. To my delight and to the skiing club parents disbelief, Leo won 5th place in the regional competition without ever been coached by professionals, only his loving mum. Proud I was indeed.

Sleeping Well…

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Once Leo and Raph arrived the magic of this beautiful bundles of life begun. Two new lives starting out with guidance from their mother and father together , just one of them or even any guardians in charge of them. Our duty is to teach them how to behave, instill good manners, show the compassion to people around them, keeping them safe and happy.

It all starts with breast milk – they eat what mother, who breastfeeds, eat. I was lucky to be able to breastfeed and did not shy away from nature’s gifts of nuts, fresh fruit and vegetables, meat and fish. I also much prefer brown rice, brown bread and wholewheat pasta. I did shy away from processed food, sweets and junk food though. I don’t eat them anyway and cook from scratch. I may not be the Michelin star chef but it is all healthy. Neither of the boys have any allergies and touch wood are rarely sick.

Unfortunately or fortunately for them, depending on who you listen to, they have a mother who loves outdoors, fresh air and enjoying the nature. My moto is and always has been ‘tire them out doing sports and they will always sleep well,’ especially with boys who can be boisterous and full of beans. Off we went walking, cycling, hiking, skiing and sledging. No matter the weather we dressed appropriately and soaked the fresh air through the day, every day. Once they started school we went to the park afterwards, kicking ball, played in the playground on swings and climbing the structures or ran hide and seek. It aired their lungs and cleared their minds. By the time we reached home they were hungry and polished their dinner plates.

It’s Christmas….

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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….

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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..

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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..

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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.’

Mr Sportsman

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My Father was an athlete, disciplined and hardworking. He trained high jump and long jump disciplines. He was also a fast runner. All rounder really. Maybe he was on the way to be the decathlon athlete. I can only go by the accounts of others, he never talked about it, but one summers day all his hopes and aspirations came crashing to dust. The day started as usual, the training was in full swing when the shotput hit my father straight in the head. There was no time for him to react and he collapsed on the floor. The sporting career that could have been was no more. It took my father 2 years to recover with thankfully no permanent damage to his brain, just a polite word to say no more any extreme exertion. That must have been the time when he parked his skis in the corner as well. There are pictures of him in ski instructors jumper but I haven’t had the joy of ever seeing him skiing. He bought me skis, took me to the slopes and taught me by explaining how to lean, where to press, how to hold myself. He was there for me all the way but there was no point in asking him to ski with me, once his mind was made up, on anything really, that was it. Skiing is my absolute favorite sport with the feeling of loosing yourself in the wind and the speed racing down the white snowy mountain is just pure exhilaration.

Regardless of the doctors advice he was not to be deterred completely. He found solace in nature. The surrounding hills and mountains of the village were the magnet to his soul. We climbed all of them, some of them many times. Getting up in the early hours to have the breakfast half way up the mountain holds a certain beauty to it all. The sense of an achievement reaching the top is monumental feeling, every time. The head is clear, the heart is pure and the beauty of rocky mountains around us breathtaking. Regardless of the saying ‘it’s not the mountain that is mad, mad is the one climbing it’ being one with the nature is priceless. His energy and the love of freedom you feel high up in the clouds was contagious. We went for many walks with his grandchildren and passed the love to them. They do not yet appreciate it but they will one day I am sure.

Mr Intellectual

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My Father was an intelligent man. He went to University studying economics and he worked as computer programmer in steel factory. He was a disciplined man, going to bed at the same time, getting up at the same hour, his timekeeping was impeccable, he was very organized. It must have come from the years he spent in the mandatory army training. As a child I only remember him seeing in full army uniform once, when I unexpectedly walked into the front room very early one morning, it was still dark outside. It was a sight I will never forget, it scared me and at the same time I was in awe. He was not going to war, simply military exercises but I was only a little girl with fly away imagination. I waited for him to come home for two very long days, driving my mother crazy with constant questions. I wouldn’t let go of him when he did come back through the door. To my delight, and utmost respect for those who are, he has never been called up.

My Father was also the one that helped me with my homework, he had a patience of a saint. I loved Maths but my stumbling block was the conversion of meters into centimeters and so on. We spent hours together trying to get me to logically understand the lengths. He was a pragmatic person and incorporated the 100m run for example for me to remember, or the height of our own to compare. I did get it in the end all thanks to his perseverance and I have learnt from him never to give up trying. As was the story of chess playing. I cannot tell you how many times I cried when he beat me but I came back fighting. He would not let me win but the joy of actually beating him at chess fair and square was just immeasurable. My celebration was worthy of a World Cup win.