The Passage of Time

A year has passed in what feels like the blink of an eye.

Looking back, I have difficulty grasping the truth of the fact that the wheel has turned fully since Dad passed away, last year. I know now that even though I have lived, grown, changed, done, made, achieved a year, I haven't really experienced it. Not fully; not with my eyes open; not in the moment; not with my 'real' self. 

Instead I have walked through the days as my 'shadow self' - the part of me that is waking and breathing. The other part of me - the part which really feels - has hidden itself away inside, protecting itself until it knows it is safe to come out again. 

As each day passes I think it awakes a little more. Today, exactly a year since Dad died, I have been able to process these thoughts and put them into some semblance of syntactical sense: that is a start.

A new moon, an eclipse and a reflection...

Yesterday's total eclipse of the sun was only visible for those in the South Pacific and yet it was on my mind for much of the day. 

Like the ouroboros serpent - with its tail in its mouth - the new moon eclipse brought a renewed sense of the self-reflexivity and cyclical nature embedded within everything we do. 

 This time last year I was celebrating finishing my teacher training with a trip to Geneva and was vividly aware, as I acknowledged the eclipse falling while sailing on the lake, that it would bring great change to my life.

A year later and I am about to celebrate my first anniversary with B, a time tinged with sadness as it carries with it the memory of first learning that my Dad was ill. Two events coincided in my life with that eclipse and yet I believe with my whole heart that they are far from 'coincidence'. B was led into my life at a moment when the gods knew I would need him most; and so my dad could see how happy I was before he left this world.

So, yesterday's eclipse led me to a reflection on how much has changed in my life over the course of just twelve moons and where I am standing right now.

The last new moon which eclipsed the sun was six months ago and I marked it with this blog's inception.

And here I am...still writing, taking more photographs than ever (which my dad would be thrilled about) and enjoying the small rewards that each day provides me. 

Today I celebrate...

Having successfully completed my first year of teaching.

Finding a home.

Eating food that I have grown in the garden.

Loving a man for all the right reasons.

Standing on the doorstep to my future.

National Myeloma Awareness Week

This week would mark my Dad's 52nd birthday. Poignantly, it is also National Myeloma Awareness Week - a campaign week aimed at raising awareness and understanding of the type of cancer he lost his life to, just a couple of months ago. 

Myeloma is an aggressive cancer of the bone marrow arising from cells in the blood plasma. It affects multiple parts of the body and causes a great deal of pain to sufferers. As healthy plasma cells produce antibodies, people with Myeloma are at a high risk of infection due to having an immune system which is not functioning properly. 

Myeloma patients find that, as the disease progresses, their bones become weakened, painful and fragments may even begin to break away, as tumours riddle the bone marrow. Areas which are usually most affected are the spine and pelvis, skull and rib-cage. 

Complications which frequently arise in myeloma patients concern the kidneys: the blood becomes too viscous due to the abnormal plasma cells and the kidneys can become 'clogged up' as a result. Many Myeloma patients develop kidney failure - it was actually this stage that alerted the doctors to what was happening with my Dad. 

And that brings me on to the important message behind the Myeloma Awarness Campaign. For many patients - including my Dad - their cancer can go undiagnosed as doctors remain baffled by their symptoms. As Myeloma is such a rare type of cancer (around 4000 people are diagnosed in the UK each year) with such varied and unspecific symptoms, it goes largely unrecognised by GPs. When it finally is discovered, its often too late. 

There is no known cure for Myeloma but treatment can halt the progress of the disease and enable patients to regain some semblance of a 'normal' life. This chance is hugely increased if the disease is caught at an early stage, before multiple systems in the body are affected. The Myeloma UK website, with a wealth of information about Myeloma and the campaign, can be found HERE. 

I want to thank you for taking the time to read this far - it would be fantastic if you could pass this information along, either by linking to my blog or to the Myeloma UK website itself. And if I could ask one final thing of you, it would be this...

If you are a UK resident, please sign up to the TAKE 2 campaign. 

You will be sent a Diagnosis Pathway document which you can take to your doctor, next time you visit the surgery.

I can only imagine what a difference it could have made, if only my Dad's doctor had had one. 

Thank you. 

Journeys

I have struggled to find words of my own throughout this toughest of weeks. My dear dad departed this world, taking another path to continue his journey. 

Myself and my family watched and waited, praying for him to find peace. Each moment of our day became another step closer to a new, alien life; every word spoken was another emotion experienced. We have all grown and changed within this short time. 

Seeing a loved one battle with an illness which robbed them of the ability to experience life as they once did makes my future path all the more clear. I shall no longer put off those things I want to do; I don't want to say they can wait another year. Life is for living and precious little time we have to do it. 

I will spend more time with my family.

I will enjoy my happy, healthy relationship.

I will make the effort to be creative and express my thoughts.

I will find the time to relax and nurture myself.

I will love with my whole heart.

Loss

Oh heart, if one should say to you that the soul perishes like the body, 

answer that the flower withers, 

but the seed remains  ~ Kahlil Gibran.

Life is eternal, and love is immortal,
and death is only a horizon;
and a horizon is nothing save the limit of our sight
~ Rossiter Worthington Raymond.

Perhaps they are not the stars, but rather openings in Heaven 

where the love of our lost ones pours through and shines down upon us 

to let us know they are happy  ~ Author Unknown.