My beloved arrived back from a conference at The African Union in Ethiopia in a pretty bad way. Utterly exhausted, with a serious fever and a badly upset stomach. I'm starting to think I ought to be more assertive about insisting he reduce his workload. He's an incredibly dynamic man and I am examining my right to have an opinion about this - actually no - of course I have a right to HAVE an opinion, I mean express it to him - but I feel strongly that he needs to learn to delegate.
Frankly it has always been a problem. He would beast himself for fitness tests when he was in the Army. Passing wasn't good enough, he had to meet the standard expected of a much younger man. His view was alwys 'I can't ask my Soldiers to do anything I can't do myself'. I would argue: 'but you're the brains of the operation - and you are much older, you are not an Infantryman who is expected to be able to run and march miles over rough terrain'. He always smiled and ignored me.
I honestly thought when he took his current job that he would make full use of the bright young things in his organisation, when it came to these arduous trips. Of course I recognise the need for him, as the CEO to visit the mine-fields to meet and support the teams and that events such as addressing Parliaments, or UN conferences regarding treaties, require his seniority - but he accompanies his staff on virtually every trip and it's taking a huge toll. He has three incredibly competent, highly qualified and experienced Directors working under him, with motivated teams of their own. I can't believe that they aren't capable of taking on more of these trips alone - especially the conferences. He sees it as leadership, I'm afraid I think there may be a touch of arrogance in it, and maybe an inability to accept his own physical limitations. I also think that if I was one of his ambitious Directors I might see the fact that the Boss thinks that he's always the best man for the job as somewhat patronising they have after all studied for years and have greater experience in the third sector than he has!
Perhaps I sound patronising about an incredibly fine and dedicated man - perhaps I am very worried. He's lying upstairs in bed looking like something that the cat threw up but still insisting that he's off to Norway and then NY before the end of the month. Yup - I'm worried.
Truly good
I was going to post about how fed up I am, with work politics and my beloved pushing off to Ethiopia and Norway, thus abandoing us again, and how barking my Mother-In-Law is....but I got side-tracked.
If you haven't come across this blog: http://ourpursuits.blogspot.co.uk/2013/02/hows-it-goin-in-there.html and you could use an example of real courage and kindness and faith in the face of enormous loss - and like me, a kick up the backside in reminder of what REALLY matters, do take a look.
If you haven't come across this blog: http://ourpursuits.blogspot.co.uk/2013/02/hows-it-goin-in-there.html and you could use an example of real courage and kindness and faith in the face of enormous loss - and like me, a kick up the backside in reminder of what REALLY matters, do take a look.
Mother-In-Law troubles....
I've always been very fond of my Mother-In-Law. She has always been a simple person in the nicest sense of the word - but what do you do when the ageing process turns someone from a thoughtful, kind soul into someone whose life has become so small that they can't see the wood for the trees?
It seems quite a common scenario to me. Those who don't maintain passions and interests into old age, atrophy. In my M-I-L this has presented itself as having a seriously unhealthy interest in the lives of others and making big pronouncements about them when not in full possession of the facts. The latest manifestation of this is causing a lot of distress.
Long story v.v short.... she was as close as close to her only sister. Her sister has just died. Her sister has two 'children' (a man and a woman in their late 50's), the children fell out and my M-I-L has taken sides to the extent that she is refusing to go to her sister's funeral (some 250 miles away) because she doesn't want to 'see that awful man'. She has seen neither of these 'children' for some years but speaks weekly on the telephone to the daughter who it seems spends most of the calls rubbishing her brother. The daughter is a nice, intelligent, woman, the son is a nice, intelligent, man. That they are having some extended scrap is none of our business and Steve & I have stayed out of it.
I don't know where the truth lies, but equally, neither does my M-I-L and no amount of reasoning with her will lead her to even consider going to her sister's funeral. She's engaging in monumentally passive/aggressive stuff with us, as in ' you don't love me if you think I could see that awful man.....' 'but Mum, you only have one side of the story, and you don't even have to acknowledge him, just come with us to pay your last respects to your sister'... ' yes, but I know it's true!....' 'how do you know?'..... 'you don't love me!' followed by extensive sobbing, slamming down of phone and repeat....
So it seems, my husband's only maternal aunt is to be laid to rest without the presence of any of us (she insists that we spend the day in prayer with her and eschews my offer to go to 'represent' us all). What to do when an adult behaves like an unreasonable toddler but as they are an adult and your mother, and as you feel you must respect their wishes, you allow yourself to be manipulated and collude with her in doing (or rather not doing) something which she will undoubtedly regret. Tricky, really tricky.
It seems quite a common scenario to me. Those who don't maintain passions and interests into old age, atrophy. In my M-I-L this has presented itself as having a seriously unhealthy interest in the lives of others and making big pronouncements about them when not in full possession of the facts. The latest manifestation of this is causing a lot of distress.
Long story v.v short.... she was as close as close to her only sister. Her sister has just died. Her sister has two 'children' (a man and a woman in their late 50's), the children fell out and my M-I-L has taken sides to the extent that she is refusing to go to her sister's funeral (some 250 miles away) because she doesn't want to 'see that awful man'. She has seen neither of these 'children' for some years but speaks weekly on the telephone to the daughter who it seems spends most of the calls rubbishing her brother. The daughter is a nice, intelligent, woman, the son is a nice, intelligent, man. That they are having some extended scrap is none of our business and Steve & I have stayed out of it.
I don't know where the truth lies, but equally, neither does my M-I-L and no amount of reasoning with her will lead her to even consider going to her sister's funeral. She's engaging in monumentally passive/aggressive stuff with us, as in ' you don't love me if you think I could see that awful man.....' 'but Mum, you only have one side of the story, and you don't even have to acknowledge him, just come with us to pay your last respects to your sister'... ' yes, but I know it's true!....' 'how do you know?'..... 'you don't love me!' followed by extensive sobbing, slamming down of phone and repeat....
So it seems, my husband's only maternal aunt is to be laid to rest without the presence of any of us (she insists that we spend the day in prayer with her and eschews my offer to go to 'represent' us all). What to do when an adult behaves like an unreasonable toddler but as they are an adult and your mother, and as you feel you must respect their wishes, you allow yourself to be manipulated and collude with her in doing (or rather not doing) something which she will undoubtedly regret. Tricky, really tricky.
Well, that was a blast!
Christmas and New Year were both great.
We hosted Christmas at home and both girls spent it with us, which in a 'blended' family, and as they are adults with partners of their own, is a rare occurence, so it was always going to be extra special, and it was. Even my Mother-In-Law has grasped the concept that as someone who has never cooked, her running commentary on my skills (or more probably lack of them!) from; 'are you really going to use that knife to peel the potatoes' to: 'He won't eat that you know' (about Melon, which as it happens my beloved loves) probably isn't all that helpful and kept a lid on it! Our great friends S&D spent Christmas day with us and then hosted an absolute hum-dinger of a New Year party which set 2013 off with a bang - literally, the fireworks were amazing. So, here we go, into a new year.... May 2013 bring you love and peace and happiness.
We hosted Christmas at home and both girls spent it with us, which in a 'blended' family, and as they are adults with partners of their own, is a rare occurence, so it was always going to be extra special, and it was. Even my Mother-In-Law has grasped the concept that as someone who has never cooked, her running commentary on my skills (or more probably lack of them!) from; 'are you really going to use that knife to peel the potatoes' to: 'He won't eat that you know' (about Melon, which as it happens my beloved loves) probably isn't all that helpful and kept a lid on it! Our great friends S&D spent Christmas day with us and then hosted an absolute hum-dinger of a New Year party which set 2013 off with a bang - literally, the fireworks were amazing. So, here we go, into a new year.... May 2013 bring you love and peace and happiness.
Thanks 2012
There was so much uncertainty and loss in my life in 2011. Life changed irrevocably and only promised more change. I'd like to say that I learned to be more flexible in my thinking, to choose joy, to embrace more closely those and that which I love - but I would be lying. What actually happened was that I became fearful and wary. When life could change so utterly and so suddenly for the worse, how dangerous is it to take risks? to be happy? to enjoy and embrace? I haven't yet shaken that off those dark thoughts entirely, but I have just been looking back at photographs of 2012 and overall it has been a much better year than I expected and a much happier year than I would have believed possible (as well as being punctuated by such delicious events as the Jubilee and The Olympics) so I am laying down my fretful, narrow mind, and tipping my hat, with gratitude, to 2012. Thanks to all of you who stood shoulder to shoulder with me through it. I owe you.
To a home of our own.
A VERY happy birthday.....
and friends to share happy times with.
Darling Dogs.....
Sunny afternoons..
and best, best, best of all......
family.
Packing
My beloved is upstairs packing. I should be grateful that he's not off to The Sandy Place (he's going to a meeting in Scandanavia) but I still loathe seeing the frigging detritus of packing because I have never quite got past loathing seeing him leave.
When we were discussing if he should step out of the Army a year early to take up his (now) job, one of the things which sold it to him was that he would continue to travel regularly, internationally. We're such different people in that respect. If I could gather everyone I love into a mile square village I swear I'd never leave it, but my boy, well he is an adventurer.
When he used to come home bearing news of an Op Tour , a mission, or an exercise, he would don an air of regret in an attempt to soften the blow for me, but he couldn't stop his eyes from shining. He'd announce: 'Well Darling, the good news is that I'm going to get another medal, the bad news is that I have to go to..... insert hideous war zone....to get it'. I'd sob, he'd console - but I was always aware that he was raring to go and so it remains - the shining eyes, the air of regret...and the packing.
When we were discussing if he should step out of the Army a year early to take up his (now) job, one of the things which sold it to him was that he would continue to travel regularly, internationally. We're such different people in that respect. If I could gather everyone I love into a mile square village I swear I'd never leave it, but my boy, well he is an adventurer.
When he used to come home bearing news of an Op Tour , a mission, or an exercise, he would don an air of regret in an attempt to soften the blow for me, but he couldn't stop his eyes from shining. He'd announce: 'Well Darling, the good news is that I'm going to get another medal, the bad news is that I have to go to..... insert hideous war zone....to get it'. I'd sob, he'd console - but I was always aware that he was raring to go and so it remains - the shining eyes, the air of regret...and the packing.
Running with 'the gang'
I have just had the kind of weekend that I thought I might never have again, and it was down to a group of women who opened their hearts to me and kept them open.
I'll try to keep the explanation brief....
More years ago than I care to remember, I met my best friend. It was simple stuff - not at all unlike that happy time when you find the kindred spirit who is to become your life partner. I walked into a new office, she was already there. A few conversations later we had discovered a mutual love of animals, joy, life, and Bloody Marys. She was searching for faith and eventually honoured me by making me her sponsor when she was Christened. She stood by me through my long years of living alone. We confided and shared and laughed our heads off. She introduced me to her large group of life-long friends, all from the same village in Hampshire where she was raised. I had moved around all my life, suddenly I had 'a gang'. Then, I finally fell in love and married a Soldier. I moved away. We kept in constant touch. She visited. I occasionally made the long trek back to her and was warmly welcomed by 'the gang'....and then she died. I had another close chum in the gang, three months later, aged 44, she had a massive stroke and died. I have documented this here before, so you know I was left reeling.
The Gang drew together to mourn, to arrange funerals, to cry. I was still geographically far away. I had not shared the life-long experiences that the rest of the gang had. I expected to be asked to weddings and funerals as in: 'we should ask Heli, Gailey and Ali would have wanted us to'. I not only grieved for them. I grieved for the loss of the sisterhood to which I had so happily and proudly belonged. I withdrew - but here's the thing, the invitations kept on coming. To parties, holidays, gatherings of all kinds. In those early days we were so shocked and stunned that we barely did more than cry. Sometimes our get togethers only served as a reminder of who was missing - but still the invitations kept coming. I proffered a tentative invitation of my own - never thinking for a minute that anyone would come - and every woman Jill of them made the long trek to be with me.
Every year for countless years we had all gathered together for a lunch before Christmas. This year, I took along a new close friend of my own. We sat at the same table where once Gailey and Ali had presided and you know what? we laughed until tears poured down our faces. My new friend was as warmly embraced into the gang as I had been all those years ago. It felt like we were honouring Gailey and Ali by sticking together, by continuing to belong to each other after a hand-grenade had exploded in our midst. We're wounded but we're walking - actually, this weekend, we were running - and wow, it felt good.
L to R: Me, Gailey, Ali.
'The Gang'........running!
I'll try to keep the explanation brief....
More years ago than I care to remember, I met my best friend. It was simple stuff - not at all unlike that happy time when you find the kindred spirit who is to become your life partner. I walked into a new office, she was already there. A few conversations later we had discovered a mutual love of animals, joy, life, and Bloody Marys. She was searching for faith and eventually honoured me by making me her sponsor when she was Christened. She stood by me through my long years of living alone. We confided and shared and laughed our heads off. She introduced me to her large group of life-long friends, all from the same village in Hampshire where she was raised. I had moved around all my life, suddenly I had 'a gang'. Then, I finally fell in love and married a Soldier. I moved away. We kept in constant touch. She visited. I occasionally made the long trek back to her and was warmly welcomed by 'the gang'....and then she died. I had another close chum in the gang, three months later, aged 44, she had a massive stroke and died. I have documented this here before, so you know I was left reeling.
The Gang drew together to mourn, to arrange funerals, to cry. I was still geographically far away. I had not shared the life-long experiences that the rest of the gang had. I expected to be asked to weddings and funerals as in: 'we should ask Heli, Gailey and Ali would have wanted us to'. I not only grieved for them. I grieved for the loss of the sisterhood to which I had so happily and proudly belonged. I withdrew - but here's the thing, the invitations kept on coming. To parties, holidays, gatherings of all kinds. In those early days we were so shocked and stunned that we barely did more than cry. Sometimes our get togethers only served as a reminder of who was missing - but still the invitations kept coming. I proffered a tentative invitation of my own - never thinking for a minute that anyone would come - and every woman Jill of them made the long trek to be with me.
Every year for countless years we had all gathered together for a lunch before Christmas. This year, I took along a new close friend of my own. We sat at the same table where once Gailey and Ali had presided and you know what? we laughed until tears poured down our faces. My new friend was as warmly embraced into the gang as I had been all those years ago. It felt like we were honouring Gailey and Ali by sticking together, by continuing to belong to each other after a hand-grenade had exploded in our midst. We're wounded but we're walking - actually, this weekend, we were running - and wow, it felt good.
L to R: Me, Gailey, Ali.
'The Gang'........running!
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