Soul mates

There are people in our lives we are destined to meet,
Not lovers or friends, just strangers in the street.
They shape our experiences, and keep us away from harm,
So that one day we can say, ‘we know who we are’.

They are people who know so little of us,
But try their best when our lives are tough.
To listen and weep, make us laugh and cry;
To change how we think, and stay by our side.

They watch over us carefully when we need them most,
Like guardian angels never deserting their post.

They reach out their hands to pull us up from the street,
And hold us gently until we are whisked off to sleep.

Then when all words have been said;
And we were comforted – all sound again,
They leave us quietly with a short goodbye.
Safe in the knowledge we will soon be alright.

My Best Friend (Weekly Photo Challenge)

Serenity: the state of being calm, peaceful, and untroubled.

I sat and thought about this week’s photo challenge for a while now. I’ve gone through many photographs that reminded me of serenity & became struck by photographs of my German Shepherd – Isaac.

Ever since Isaac joined us on December 26th 2013, he has become my first port of call whenever I needed to feel serenity.

Helping me with homework & cheering me up when I’m feeling under the weather…

…He will always be found by my side. As soon as I wake up in the morning he is there – having opened the door at the sound of my alarm. He greats me with licks and tail wags; running around my legs & finishing with occasional jump – front paws perched on my shoulders.

Playing in the garden in Summer…

…Or just generally playing with him. As soon as I walk in the door, I know I will be greeted by my big dopey friend; ball in mouth waiting for me to play with him for an hour before tea. On weekends I make the special effort to dance with him to the sounds of Xfm.

He is more than just a dog or family pet;

He is my best friend.

Pride that follows Art

My Grandma is blind.

Diagnosed with macular degeneration when I was young, meant she only had peripheral vision. After two strokes, her eyesight worsened and she could only see shadows. The strokes caused the development of Vascular Dementia in 2011. Since then the disease has progressed steadily.

For my Grandma this was hard to cope with. She always said the two things she never wanted to lose were her eyesight and her mind, and she lost them both.

On Saturday morning, she was admitted into the local hospital after being found on the floor – she had fallen during the night. When visiting her yesterday afternoon she was not by her bedside like Mum and I had expected.

We asked the nurse and were told she was in the day room taking part in the Art class. I was shocked, previously she had always refused any sort of participation in a group or individually due to her blindness.

After joking that she was taking after me – the Foundation Art student, I was delighted to hear that she had enjoyed herself.

Being shown her Art work gave me the most powerful sense of pride I’ve ever had, I smiled until my cheeks hurt. I didn’t care if it looked a little abstract, for me it clearly depicted an aerial view of the landscape. It has become my favourite piece of work and I’ve made her display it proudly by her bedside.

The Lost Art of Letter Writing

I love letters.

There’s a romance to them that manages to capture a little slither of you within the pages. There is no rationality, no logic, just words and raw emotion.

For anyone who knows me well, I’m cynical. The unromantic girl who would rather sit in than go out. Uncomfortable with social interactions especially if it’s speaking about emotions then stay the hell away from me or my gaze will avoid you like the plague.

But as a writer, I love romance. I’m fascinated by the people and their strange interactions. They baffle me and they amaze me. And their words encapsulate me.

Call me old-fashioned but I love the essence of letter writing. If I had grew up in the era when letters were all the rage I would have written many. I would have been like the disciples in the gospel; countless letters to everyone!

Now-a-days writing is in the form of e-mail and is too quick and far too impersonal. There are no scribbles or crumple marks where the sender has hastily shoved the letter in to its envelope in order to meet the post deadline. There are no tear stains when writing about a sad moment, reminiscing or just letting their emotions show. Most importantly, there  is no rawness to an email like there is in a letter. In a letter each part of you and your personality is captured in the words to produce a magical form of love and appreciation.

I love words.

Locked inside me

I do not say it often,

But I think it all the time,

These words;

Locked inside my mind.

I love you. Always.

Last night…I was a candle

Metaphorically speaking of course. I didn’t actually turn into a candle.

My friend turned 18 in October and last night it was her Debut. She is from the Philippines so celebrating the 18th birthday is a very special tradition in which the ‘debutante’ is introduced into society and into a world full of responsibilities and social awareness. It was my first time witnessing the Philippines Debut Tradition and I fell in love with it.

It is a night centered around the debutante with special performances and moments that inevitably create memories she can cherish for the rest of her life. The performances are chosen by the debutante and are often close family and friends. It is a truly special occasion with the focus always on the debutante.

My friend entered the hall filled with family and friends after a short photo montage; created by her sister, was projected on a large screen. We all stood and clapped as she made her way to the front of the hall in a gorgeous red gown – she looked truly stunning. It was no extravagant event  but classy and well-considered.

During the night there were special traditions which took place. First was the 18 roses presentation. 18 men were chosen from family and close friends in which they walked on stage, gave my friend a white rose and performed a short waltz dance with each other. It was a tradition which I couldn’t stop smiling at no matter how hard I tried. The coming together of two close friends/family members is an experience which makes you think of your own family and friends and how much you come to rely upon them throughout your life. It made me reflect on how much my family and friends mean to me and how without them I wouldn’t be able to live a truly happy life.

The next tradition was the presentation of the 18 candles. This was were I ‘transformed into a candle’. 18 women are chosen from family members and friends close to the debutante’s heart. They present the debutante with a candle and say a short speech which consists of their wishes to the debutante. The candle represents all the virtues they chose to resemble the character of being a full-grown woman to guide the debutante in her journey in life.

At midnight, my friend told me about this tradition and said I had to make a speech. In all honesty I was nervous because public speaking isn’t my strong point but I was honoured and overwhelmed that she had thought of me to do such a special thing for her. I mulled my speech over in my head and once it was fully prepared wrote in down – I was determined to make her laugh because after having many people speak about you you’re bound to get emotional. She did just that and a few tears fell from her eyes. I wished her every happiness in the things she will face in life and reminded her of some of the many memories we share. It was a heart-warming experience.

At the end of the night, 9 couples presented the Tinikling dance sequence together with my friend and her partner. The number ended with my friend being picked up while the girls of the pairs created a circle around her.

It was the most overwhelming and amazing experience and to witness such a tradition opened my eyes to another culture other than my own. It was a tradition that I would have loved to have been raised into because it was a true celebration of the memories and future of my friend and in itself created many memories for her to cherish.

And although she will never read this post, I wish her again every happiness and I hope that whatever she does in life she is successful. I love her millions and always will.