jmgoyder

wings and things

The dreamchild

During the uncertain years before Anthony and I were engaged, I had a very strange certainty that twirled around in my mind, and whirled around in my stomach. So, one day, I sat down in my little bedsit and wrote about our son-to-be. I sent the poem to Anthony:

THE DREAMCHILD

He waits in a misted capsule

At the corner of my mind

And my thoughts scatter

Through him

Warming cooling him wrapped

A wisp

A fingerbreath of being peering through

Door ajar

A bloodlight outline here

Out of veiled velvet space

The colour of him blinked

Inked in jagged clear

An extension of you

Joined at this corner of misted mind

Seated crosslegged child

A particled preconception

Of something certain

And certain now he waits

For you

His strange cry smiles sunwashed

Into the beating

Beating silence marking time

Timeless

And silence like blue blue air

Sponged cool

His patience a single crimson flame

Poised

Dancing pivot

Of something certain

And certain he waits

Waiting now

We wait

For you

He waits at the corner for you

My child to be

And a few years late, the dreamchild turned into Ming!

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26 Comments »

Blogantics!

The notification of other people’s blog posts is still not working (I only know this because I am subscribed to my own so I usually get a notification when I write a post and this isn’t happening). Having unsubscribed from all blogs has given me a bit of much-needed perspective in terms of time management, so that’s good. I thought, for the time being, I would simply suss out latest posts from those people with whom there is a mutual support thing going on. This will keep me out of mischief!

21 Comments »

A wonderful realization

Well, it took a wordpress glitch to shake some sense into me. The notifications of blogs I’d subscribed to (even though I did that whole unsubscribe thing awhile back) weren’t coming through to my email account, so I got a bit worried and, yes, felt a little lonely not to get those emails.

Various comments suggested that other bloggers were experiencing glitches like this and several said they simply use the Reader to check up on their blogfriends. To cut a long story short, I went in and unsubscribed from every single blog in order to resubscribe when my particular glitch was solved.

But halfway through the unsubscribing process, I realized that blogging has become my way of avoiding things, avoiding some of my responsibilities, avoiding Anthony and the pain of what he is going through in this final phase of Parkinson’s disease.

So, from now on, and I’m sure none of you will be hurt by this because I have totally unsubscribed from everyone – I am simply going to write a daily blog, respond to comments and that’s it. I have to do this for awhile so that I can focus on Anthony and Ming, so for those bloggers who I am close to, with whom I have exchanged support, humour etc., please forgive me. I will catch up with your blogs as soon as I can and I am available by email anyway.

I have decided to stop using blogging as an avoidance strategy.

Hopefully this makes sense!

61 Comments »

Still have problems with WordPress

That’s all I have to say today because I don’t want to swear in public!

For those bloggers I subscribe to, I will try to keep up as I am still not receiving email notifications – sorry!

13 Comments »

Is there a WordPress glitch at the moment?

There seems to be a disconnection (for me) between WordPress and my google email account – ie. I am not getting any notifications of anyone else’s blogposts. Is anyone else having this problem?

29 Comments »

Two more culprits!

The following bloggers nominated me for awards without realizing that my way of accepting awards is to give them an award – yes, indeed, there are now two more lucky recipients of the Hot Potato Award for which there are no rules except that you either accept it and copy/paste it to your blog or not.

Riba, at No Holds Barred, has a way of writing that strokes the soul:

http://noholdsbarredribataylor.wordpress.com/

Magically Mad, at Not Quite Lost, has a way of writing that challenges the soul:

http://ocelotbound.wordpress.com/

Of course, they both do both of these things in their enlightening blogs.

8 Comments »

Female pheasants don’t grow on trees!

When I wrote my cynical post about platitudes and cliches the other day, I wasn’t actually thinking so much of my own situation with a terminally ill husband, but of other people whose lives seem to have been swallowed whole by such chronic illness that each day becomes an enormous challenge. Some of those people I have met via the blogosphere, but I also know other people personally who are in various stages of illness or grief, so I understand and empathize with how difficult it must be to tolerate the platitudes.

The comments I received on that post confirmed that many people find the platitudes and cliches intolerable, but it was also pointed out to me that cliches can be very useful when you don’t know what else to say, so perhaps the post was a little over-cynical. One off-the-record comment implied that for me to call a well-meaning platitude ‘crap’ was an ugly way of expressing things and that my cynicism didn’t fit with the flavour of the rest of my blog.

So I went back and edited the post to make it gentler, but I kept the original words in there too. At the end I should have added “and you will pick yourself up” but, for some reason, I didn’t because, after all, that is not always possible. But, having upset one person, it is possible I may have upset others for which I apologize.

I have also had to apologize to Phoenix 1 because I still haven’t been able to find him a wife!

Me: Female pheasants don’t grow on trees, Phoenix!

Phoenix 1: I think you have used a remnant of a cliche, Julie.

Me: Oh, crap!

49 Comments »

Awardees!

For those who are new to this blog, I seem to have a problem with accepting blog awards (yes, I am seeing a psychologist next week – joking!) So, in order to not seem ungracious or ungrateful, I created the Hot Potato Award to bestow on anyone who nominates me for an award. Hence, the latest winners are:

http://thoughtstomull.com/

This blog is both inspirational and very thoughtmully; it gets my brain working.

http://freedomtoafulllife.wordpress.com/

This blog takes the guts out of fear.

http://terry1954.wordpress.com/

This blog grabs me by the throat because it is about Parkinson’s disease.

There is only one rule for the Hot Potato Award: you accept it and copy/paste it to your blog, or you don’t.

I have been deliberately vague in my descriptions of these three blog awardees because I hope you will visit them and see how wonderful they are for yourselves.

Okay, now back to the award problem I have. There is an extremely profound reason behind my non-acceptance, which is steeped in philosophical reasoning:

I am lazy!

21 Comments »

This is one amazing person – Robyn!

THROUGH THE HEALING LENS

In the still night

Holding stable

Atop white sandy dunes

I lift my head in prayer.

Hearing the moon’s call, I

Submit to the pleas of my own

Desperate breath.

~~~

A warm salt breeze

Strokes my forehead

Gently urging my eyelids to close;

And quietly, I slip away from

~~~

What is real

What is earthly

What is pain.

~~~

Swiftly transported through

Space and time;

Lifted lovingly onto the wings of

Incandescent stars,

I transcend.

~~~

Spinning fervently

Whirling and turning, round and round

like a Dervish;

Finally, I penetrate a solid

Wall of mirrored glass and,

I am welcomed.

~~~

Without thought

Without words

Without pain,

I enter.

~~~

Here

Where my body

Is weightless and free;

And movement, effortless.

~~~

Here

Without bondage

Without boundary

Without pain.

~~~

Here

Where My dreams

Dance freely,

Held in the safe embrace of

 Blissful crystal waters;

~~~

And

Where my heart…

View original post 14 more words

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The Joe story 5 (final excerpt)

The following excerpt skips 200 pages from the last one and is part of the last chapter of the book.

THE JOE STORY

Joe was dying.

I would chatter away, holding his hand, sitting on the side of his bed. He would look at me, then look away, then look at me again. His eyes, which had been so blank and uninterested when I first met him, and had then, for such a short time, become so twinkly and mischievous, now alternated again between blankness, bewilderment and obvious physical pain.

Joe stopped speaking altogether.

I cannot presume to know what he was thinking, what he was trying to say when he opened his mouth and nothing came out. But I did know the dreadful pressure of his hand a few hours before he died, the groaning sound in his chest, the whispered barely audible nonwords, the rough, familiar feel of this cheek, and the tears which stood in his eyes in a proud kind of way, as I kissed him goodnight for the last time. [pgs. 203-204]

http://www.fremantlepress.com.au/books/1039

28 Comments »