I Don't Dream...

... or, if I do, I never remember them the next day. But last night I had a really disturbing dream (or dreams, because I think I woke up in the middle of it / them)...

I don't really remember how it started, just that all of a sudden I was back in what had been Mum & Dad's bedroom at our last house, and I was lying in their bed. I don't know what age I was, but I knew that Mum & Dad were both dead.

And then Mum was there, lying in the bed beside me, and suddenly it felt like this was the real world, and I was in the new house, and Mum wasn't dead... coz she felt so real, like I could reach out and touch her. And then we were back at the other house, and Dad appeared, and he was trying to tell me that Mum couldn't really be there, because she was dead... but he couldn't see that he was the same. He just kept on telling me, "That's not really your Mum... she's not here".

Next I was aware, I was in like an old theatre or something, and the ballerina Darcey Bussell was on stage, behind a closed curtain, dancing a very melancholic dance with a small child with her... Darcey was wearing a dark blue, or almost black, dress with a long net skirt, and was heavily pregnant (I remember being amazed that she could hold her balance so well with a bump), and was lit by a solitary white spotlight. A lone violin was playing sadly somewhere from backstage. The theatre was empty.

Then I was in a small room, like a poorly-furnished kitchen, and a woman was sitting at a table, her head bowed. The room was dark, and a small child (maybe the same one that was with Darcey) was stood beside her, head bowed as well. They seemed to be in old-fashioned clothes, and were obviously poor. I walked up to the woman to ask where I was, and was shocked when she lifted her head... Her eyes were closed, and her eyelashes were like long yellow feathers (for want of a better way to describe them) that reached down to her chin... the effect being like curtains. The child was the same, and neither spoke to me... just opened their eyes, looked at me, then closed their eyes and bowed their heads again.

I think this was the point I woke up.

Strange and disturbing...

Thursday 16th April

... was the day I had to make the hardest decision of my life - I had to make the decision to have my beautiful and funny and cute cat, Minnie, put to sleep.

On Wednesday morning she seemed fine... she had something to eat, she was limping a little on one front foot (but we put that down to the fact that she had been sleeping on the bench the day before, and we thought she must have landed badly when she jumped down), but she was more or less her usual self.

But when we came home Wednesday night, she didn't want to come in to eat or sleep... but again, it wasn't unusual for her to spend a bonny night outside.

Thursday morning, Viki went out the back for a cigarette before going to work, and Minnie was lying outside, under some scaffolding the neighbours have up at the back of my house. And she wouldn't come in to eat. Viki said she was really worried about Minnie, cause she didn't seem able to get up.

So, when I got up, I went to see if she would come in... but she just laid there, curled up, and was shivering a bit. And she seemed to be in a bit of pain. But I had to go to work.

Came home at lunchtime to check up on her, and there was no sign of her where I had left her. I thought she had got up and gone a wander.

But then I saw her... She had moved all of a few yards and was lying curled up in the grass where the sun was shining... and was clearly not well. She was unable to even lift her head, and when she tried to move, she was in great pain.

Went up to where she was, and I almost thought I was too late... her mouth was a little open, and she hardly seemed to breathing.

So I got my brother along to have a look... and he said she was in a really bad way.

Took her straight to the vet, and the vet examined her. Poor Minnie had no control or strength in her back legs... just couldn't stand or walk... could barely lift her head. The vet said that there was a number of things it could be:

Maybe she had a blood clot somewhere that was cutting off the blood supply to her back legs... because the pulse in her abdomen was barely there.

Maybe she had eaten or drank something toxic.

Maybe there was an electrolyte imbalance in her blood.

Maybe she had been struck by a car or something, but there didn't seem to be any injury or obvious trauma.

But without extensive tests, she didn't really know what was causing it... and Minnie was deteriorating before our eyes in the short time I was there. Within about half an hour, the vet said that she seemed to be having some kind of seizure, because her eyes were glazed and didn't respond to light stimulation.

So, rather than pump her full of painkillers to try to keep her going another night so they could do more tests, I chose to let her go. I couldn't stand the thought of my beloved baby spending a night alone in the vets, in pain and distress... maybe even dying alone... so I told them to end her suffering.

It was the hardest words I've ever had to say to tell her goodbye. I stroked her head, told her I was sorry, that I loved her so much, that Viki loved her, and that I would miss her forever. And somewhere in her pain, I think my baby heard me, because she purred.

But coming home without her was horrible. And the house is so empty...


Which is why I've taken the decision that I've taken.

Less than a week after her going, tomorrow I go and collect 2 cats that were on the Cats Protection Orkney website for rehoming. Leia and Gizmo are a mummy and her grown-up son who required rehomed together. Was along to visit them in their current home tonight, and they are so lovely. Gizmo is 2 and a half, and is described as a "bit of a mummy's boy" - and that was clear when we arrived and they were lying cuddled up together. Leia clearly still loves her "baby". Gizmo is ginger & white, and Leia is mostly white with tortoishell markings.

See their photos here.

This doesn't mean I've forgotten Minnie, or that I didn't love her... I loved her with all my heart... but my heart needs a cat to love.

R.I.P. Minnie... and I'll see you again someday... you and your mummy.

And there is now officially an embargo on April 16th for me... that day was also 2 years to the day since my father died.

Lest We Forget...

They shall grow not old, as we that are left grow old
Age shall not weary them, nor the years condemn
At the going down of the sun and in the morning
We will remember them. - Laurence Binyon

Today was, of course, Armistice Day... and the 90th anniversary of the end of World War 1 - "The War To End All Wars" - I hope you observed the 2 minute silence wherever you were.

Now, I didn't lose any close family in the wars, but my late father served in Burma during World War 2, and I am immensely proud of him and what he endured to make the world a better place (at least, that's what those brave men and women hoped).

I've posted a couple of photos and a wee bit about him on my photo blog, as a personal tribute... see here.

Cheque It In, Cheque It Out...

Today should have been a bit exciting, and a relief to me... I got a text from my brother this morning to say that he had got a cheque from the lawyers for his share of Dad's estate, and that mine would probably be waiting at home for me.

Now, it's not a HUGE inheritance, but it would have been enough to buy a new cooker to replace my 15-odd-year-old one that trips out my entire fuseboard if I turn on the small ring at the front, and to allow a cushion for emergencies while my bankruptcy (which is in progress) means that I can't get credit of any form... But I still had to report it to the Trustees over-seeing my application... which I did almost as soon as I heard.

And what did they say?

"We'll have that, thank you very much!"

So, in short, I won't get a penny.

Poor Dad... He would be so disappointed. He was so careful with his money, not treating himself to anything apart from a rifle among the books in the second-hand shops for so many years so that he had some money put aside to make sure his children were taken care of when he was no longer around (although none of us are "children" anymore)... and now it's all been such a waste. I wish he and Mum had spent the money on themselves and enjoyed it, and not this. I would rather have been left nothing but a couple of ornaments or a book of Dad's to remember them by.

I'm sorry, Dad.

The Cat Spot...

Happy Birthday, Dad...

more cat pictures

Love you loads.

x

Born To Rock...

Sharing her birthday with my dear Daddy... June 8th, 1940 - Nancy Sinatra is born...

"These Boots Are Made For Walking"...

Yes, there are cooler singers with a birthday today, but this one's a birthday request for Dad... Rest In Peace, Dad... x

A Bit Of Closure...

Mum & Dad's gravestone has just gone up...

(I obscured some of the information, just in case).

My Dad - A Celebration...

It's a year today since my Dad died... barely a month short of his 90th birthday.

In his days in the army - he fought in Burma during WW2... a horrible time, which he didn't often speak of (not the grim reality, anyway... he told us some of the "lighter" moments, like getting a wave from Gandhi, and visiting the Taj Mahal)...

My Dad in his "50's Film Star" pose with his car...

In his life he had various jobs to take care of his family... including docker, in the days before Ro-Ro ships, when everything had to be loaded into crates and loaded on to the boats...

For a while when I was a kid, he was a lollipop man... so a lot of Kirkwall 30-odd year olds made it safely across the road thanks to him!

Here I am with him when I was about 6 months old...

Prior to a Remembrance Sunday parade in the early 80's... very proud with his medals...

And him and a cat we used to have caught napping! Dad was very particular when he got his photo taken... false teeth had to be in, hair had to combed, face had to be washed, chin shaved, and the smile and pose perfected before you were allowed to approach with a camera - so I can only imagine what the language was like after he saw this pic!

Bits & Pieces...

You know, as I'm working through the old photos and stuff that Mum & Dad kept, I'm finding things that I was never really showed before... old letters and things from when we were kids - and I'd like to share this one with you...

It's a letter that Mum sent to Dad 2 days after I was born (I was born in Aberdeen, because there were some worries about Mum's blood group and things - and Dad had the family to look after, so he couldn't be with her) - It's not anything mind-blowing, or of great social and political importance... It's just a bit of my history (like my curl I showed you)...

(If you can't read the letter, click on the picture, and it should open in a new window - and it should be bigger, so it's readable).

In An Envelope

I found something that made me smile... so I took a scan of it...

Written on the outside of the envelope was "Alison's curl - 15/06/75"

And my dad had kept that safe for more than 30 years... bless!

So, as you can see, I was once a little blondie (the scanner didn't show the curl as blonde as it really is, though).

Tuesday 13th November...

That was the date last year (except it was a Monday) when my life took a drastic nosedive, for that was the day I came home after work to find the house in darkness and my Dad nowhere to be seen.

After major panic and investigation, I discovered that he'd fallen, and been taken to hospital with a broken hip and shoulder. The next day, I found myself in Aberdeen for only the 3rd time in my life (not including when I was born there... and the other 2 times were for a total of about a week and a couple of days... and I'd never been there alone), and there I had to stay for almost a month as Dad was in hospital. Sometimes I feared that I'd be coming back alone as he was very weak and confused, but he did make it back to Orkney... but I think I knew even then that he would never be home again.

My wonderful Dad managed to hang on til May, but sadly he passed away just shy of his 90th birthday.

So the 13th November 2006 was the start of the worst year of my life, and I can only hope that now the year is over, things will start to get better... or maybe May's the anniversary I need to hang on for...

I miss you, Dad... I hide it, but I miss you...

Can I Ask You A Personal Question?

Do you cry easily?

I ask because I was at the counsellor tonight, and she started probing some feelings... and I happened to look at the clock, which she took as a "get me out of here, before I start to cry" signal on my part (it wasn't), and started to tell me it was okay, that I could cry there...

But I can't... not in front of someone... not even on my own... It's like they're locked away...

I'm the closest I've been to crying tonight that I've been for a while, though... because we were talking about Dad, and I realised that I miss him so much... he was my support, and always believed in me... he always told me I was good at writing and stuff... and I miss that...

Dreaming...

Saturday night / Sunday morning I had one of those semi-awake dreams... where if you keep your eyes closed, then you can keep yourself in that dream state...

I was asleep on the sofa, and I could sense my Dad, sat in his chair in the corner of the living room... as he used to be, not the confused state of his last year or so... and I could even talk to him (in fact, I think I may have talked out loud, such was the state of conciousness I was in).

It was lovely, and I didn't want to open my eyes, coz I knew (even in my dream state) that I would be alone in the room as soon as I did.

Today Would Have Been...

my Dad's 90th Birthday.

So, wherever you are, my dearest Dad, I hope you had a goodun.