I’m so Tiired.

I put it off for as long as I could, but eventually at 1.30 am this morning I had to give in and admit that I would need to pack. I think this is the first time I’m actually dreading crossing the border into Scotland. I don’t want to go. I don’t want to do this…any of it.  The funeral is 2.30 pm on Friday, there will be a rosewood coffin, a prayer, one single hymn, some music, my eulogy… I’m going through the list with my mum on the phone like this is just another day, another family event to be negotiated. So numb and detached as there seems to be question after question after question. It’s only when there is finally silence that it hits me all over again… this is my dad!

I hate silence. I’ll fill it with anything, stupid things… sometimes things that make no sense. I have lost count of the number of times Gadget Guy has heard the phrase “I’m TIIIRED”, but I know it’s a lot because even he is getting a little frustrated. But hay as long as his frustration is expressed as some form of noise; it still fills the awful silence.

I am TIRED. So tired I’m starting to irritate myself. I slept for 8 hours last night – a full 8 hours. That’s the first time I’ve done that since this bomb shell was dropped. Still, today I was only in town for a couple of hours and I was practically begging KM to forgo the movie we had planned to see and just bring me home.  Weary so weary. The world is so noisy, it’s exhausting.  Can’t you people STFU … I’m TIRED.

Can’t cope with noise. Hate silence. What’s a girl to do…

All I want to do is buy a CD. I’m trying to buy this CD. I need this song… I can’t find it oh God I can’t find it… where is it… WHERE THE HELL IS IT… I need that song… NEEED it for my DAD.  Great, now I’m crying in the middle of HMV… bloody great.  I HATE crying.

Apparently this is part of those life experiences that make grown ups so much wiser than me. You know, I’m not too fussed on being wise.  How about you keep wise and make this go away?  Nope? Damn.

This is THE hardest thing I’ve done in my life …… and I’ve been through a lot of stuff.

Leaving tomorrow … I will be strong …I will be… I…

Inspire me …. (for dad)

Calidonia

I don’t know if you can see
The changes that have come over me
In these last few days I’ve been afraid
That I might drift away
So I’ve been telling old stories, singing songs
That make me think about where I came from
And that’s the reason why I seem
So far away today

Oh, but let me tell you that I love you
That I think about you all the time
Caledonia you’re calling me
And now I’m going home
If I should become a stranger
You know that it would make me more than sad
Caledonia’s been everything
I’ve ever had

Now I have moved and I’ve kept on moving
Proved the points that I needed proving
Lost the friends that I needed losing
Found others on the way
I have kissed the ladies and left them crying
Stolen dreams, yes there’s no denying
I have traveled hard with coattails flying
Somewhere in the wind

Now I’m sitting here before the fire
The empty room, the forest choir
The flames that could not get any higher
They’ve withered now they’ve gone
But I’m steady thinking my way is clear
And I know what I will do tomorrow
When the hands are shaken and the kisses flow
Then I will disappear

~ Dougie Maclean

Febuary 19th 2010

This date will be forever engraved in my heart. I should be sat here recounting to you the tales of my interview and the minor panic attack that I was sure would keep me from ever gaining a place to study, laughing of the experience and letting you know that it will be OK as I have been invited to two other interviews in early March. I should be talking about the week I spent at my mum’s…

The 19th of February could have been a day of celebration, rejoicing and a confirmation of the fact that I am putting my life back together. I should have been bouncing off the walls with excitement as soon as I opened the envelope. I don’t know if the interviewers saw some spark of passion in my eyes, despite the panic. I have no clue, but that morning the postman dropped a letter onto the floor of our hall way.  “We are pleased to make you a conditional offer”… I’m going to be a student midwife. I DID IT… but there will be no celebration.

In fact I haven’t even finished reading the contents of that letter. It’s been shoved in a drawer some place and ignored. Instead of writing my joyful post, I’ve spent the afternoon crying my eyes out as I try to figure out how best to express the jumble of emotions I feel about my father; how to sum up the life of a complicated man in less than 4 minutes. I’ve never written a eulogy, truth be told. When I took up the task, I had to consult Google before I knew what one really was. Heck I’ve never been to a funeral before…

My dad passed away at around 8.30 am on the morning of the 19th from Pneumonia. He had been frail and not really himself for several years after suffering a series of strokes, but I’d only found out he was in hospital the night before and was planning to visit this weekend.  I guess he couldn’t wait for me.

We hadn’t seen each other for several years and the relationship had not been good for a long time. I was filled with anger and resentment perhaps even hatred and not without my reasons, but now I just feel numb… and so weary. Today, for the first time in what seems like forever, I miss my dad. Not the man he became, but the one he was before he lost his way: the image of him that’s been in my head for the last three days… where he’s smiling…  his blue green eyes sparkling… no longer clouded  by grief, anger and the drunken haze.. I have no idea where this picture came from, but he’s happy and thinking clearly… it seems so real like I could almost touch him… I’d give anything to talk to the man in that picture. I’d have him critique my speech.

Yes, whatever has passed between us, I feel little regret. If he truly is free from his afflictions now, I know he understands why I was absent. I also know he would want to take it all away from me the burden of what happened… the fear, the hurt and the tears. He would want to make me whole again because deep deep down under it all, I feel … he always loved me.

My head has been in a mess since Thursday. The phone has been ringing off the hook and I don’t know if I’m coming or going. I’m getting so sick of the phrase “are you ok?”

All I can tell you is that I’m tired… oh so tired. My body is aching all over and I have a splitting headache that does not seem to want to leave. Sleeping is hard and even when I get some it doesn’t make the blind bit of difference. I’m stuck in the eye of a storm and I have no idea when it’s going to end. I’m running on empty. I haven’t really thought about whether I’m OK despite the fact that I keep telling everyone I’m alright.

All I can focus on is what I have to do: how I can find the strength… how I can compose myself and ignore all those who question my actions or judge me or seem to know how I should feel even thought they haven’t spoken to me in ages. I’m holding on tight to the fact that at the end of the day what everyone else thinks does not matter at all. This is between me and my dad. Call it “stepping up to the plate”… being the bigger person… taking the moral high ground. Whatever, forgiveness is the final gift I can try to give him.

I’m determined to make sure the final words said about him do him justice  and I will  lead by example and not get caught up in petty fighting or casting blame because it does not make one  bit of difference now, does  it ?

I’m still his daughter… and I will be with him as he makes this final journey. I’m hoping that from somewhere he will send me some of his determination and strength as I try to give him every reason to be proud of the person I have become.

I’ll worry about if I’m OK afterwards.

Ali xX

So much to do .. so far to go…

Quote: ” So I keep going keep learning… keep trying.”

Annnd it was going so well lol. Do you see posts almost every day for the first three weeks of January and then… nothing.  No talk of the devastating tragedy that is the earth quake in Haiti. No ranting and raving about the new body scanners being installed at airports… and I didn’t even get to the post I promised about George Clooney’s new movie “Up in the Air”.

It all started when I got a letter about a week or so ago inviting me to an interview at one of my chosen university Aaaah I’m so so nervous and I feel like I have so much reading and preparation to do. One week from today my fate will be decided at the very same time I’m getting hammered with college assignments.  We’ve just started an extra class which means another evening in college each week and currently I have three biology assignments on the go and a case study to write for health studies… don’t you hate when that happens? We’ve had vey little to do for a while and them BAM it all comes along  just at the most inconvenient time. I’m getting through it… but blogging kinda got knocked off the radar.

I’m having a bit of a wobble again this week. Well really after I was volunteering at the hospital yesterday during a very sad shift on the delivery suite… will I be strong enough? Will I be skilled enough? 

I just want to support and help I want to be able to do something. Heck sometimes I feel like I would like to take it all away and give birth for someone else. Very strange feeling.

Sometimes the whole thing makes me nervous and that’s worrying the hell out of me. I’m hoping praying that it’s just because right now there is NOTHING I can do.  I’m not trained; I don’t have any actual experiences of being at a birth. So when the odd occasion arises that I see a woman in distress I feel powerless and completely out of my depth.  Hoping this is somewhat normal and that with knowledge and experience it will go away. I can’t help but wonder if I’ll be up to it. I would so hate for even a single woman to suffer a lack of support when she needs it just because I choke.  Or because I think I’m up to the task when I’m just… not.  I found myself last night saying “I just wish I knew I was doing the right thing”…. to which a friend wisely responded “you’ll never be sure”.  It made me laugh but I think he could be right; never going to know for sure if I’m doing the right thing. Sucks, BUT I still feel like I’m meant to do this. I want to. So I keep going keep learning… keep trying.

And I’ll even be back to blogging about it soon…

Ali xX