Independent Dependence It’s time to go, I want to leave I need some time, a small reprieve A place of my own, to make my rules Now I’ll be nobody’s fool But, can you just give me a hand I’m only asking, it’s not a demand If you could perhaps give me  a lift Consider it like, a parting gift Then take me to the grocery store Fill my trolley with goods galore Especially fill up with milk and honey Can you help me out, I have no money? One day soon I’ll get a job Until then, have you got a few bob? I hear the dole is a good place to start I like the work ethic, it’s close to my heart For all I do is sign my name I kid you not, it’s not a game This independence lark will be a breeze I’ll adapt in no time, with such ease On my own 2 feet, I shall be free So long as your there to still help me!


for all the hard working mothers, trying to get through the day

underwater photo of woman wearing green and black dress

I watch what you say, without any words.  As you hurry around in the morning rush.  Busy you are, throwing words in the air, gathering the goods, with  eyes that  just stare.

‘Hurry up, you say, there’s so much to do, feeding and dressing, there’s more than just you.  In and out and up and down, running around like a circus clown.

Sorting the breakfast, the clothes and the bags, while you  are rushing, everyone else lags.

Inside your head you want to scream, Guilty you feel, amongst your team.

Heart is pounding, head it hurts, five minutes peace, is what you deserve.

Guilty you feel for rushing them out, a smile on your face, as you look at their pouts.

Drive them to school, the traffic is mad,  their fighting and arguing, it makes you feel bad.

‘For goodness sake, give it a rest’, you shout at them, as they protest

Guilty you feel, you’ve done it again, raised your voice and now you feel mean.

Finally, you drop them at the gate, the school bell rang, they are late.

Guilty as charged, you hurry them out, it’s all your fault, there is no doubt

The silence is golden, no, pure bliss, Guilty you feel, for enjoying this

Home to the washing, the cleaning, the mess.  You want to lay down and get a rest

Can’t do that, too much to do, the shopping, the cooking, the ironing too.

plates and bowls  spilt milk on the table, head is banging, you feel unstable

‘I hate this mess’ you think to yourself  as you pick up a toy and place back on the shelf

you sit on the sofa, and look around, how life has changed, it’s so profound

It’s  really not like you thought it would be, and now you feel guilty, for what you  see

You look at the photos on the wall, hanging there proudly in the hall,

Your heart fills with love, you want to cry,  such overwhelm, you cannot deny

Of course it’s not perfect, it never will be, no mother on earth, can feel guilt free

Mother nature herself can brew up a storm, but beauty will balance any forlorn

the beauty of love held in your heart is always a mothers’ guilty start

To your child you will be enough, learn to take the smooth and the rough

Nothing on earth can replace your love and that is something to be guilty of

Be proud of your guilt, it means you that you care, start again tomorrow, guilt free if you dare.




In mind or in action, there is a reaction, in thinking or doing, there is always pursuing. What is it we seek, evoke or conspire, feelings of guilt, often transpire !









Photo by Engin Akyurt on

Moving ?

A time comes in our lives when, at some stage, most of us move home. For others we move many times, which can be very moving


There are many different reasons why people move.   To leave home, to move in with friends, to move in with partners, to move to a bigger house, to downsize, to move into a residential home, to move in with foster families, even to move onto the streets.  Some of it is planned, some of it is circumstantial and beyond control, but whatever the reason, there is an impact – good, bad or indifferent.

I am hoping to move, to downsize, to sell my family home and I have no idea where I will buy, yet!   I feel that the time is right.  I feel there is a new beginning waiting for me and I want to explore it.  Some could say its a mid life crises, others will say it is risky or selfish and some may say it’s brave.  whatever it is, it is my choice to make and therefore my consequence to to accept.

This garden of mine was nothing but a field 19 years ago and together, my husband and I build a home, literally.  We sourced and ordered materials, tradesmen and craftsmen and mucked in ourselves and assisted in the building of our house.  We planted every tree, every shrub and bulb that have now created a beautiful mature garden.  There are oaks, beech, laurel, italian alder, cordyline, magnolia, lilac, phormium, scotts pine, apple, pear, dogwood and many more trees and plants in our garden.

I particularly like this time of year when the bulbs are poking through and out pop the lovely daffodils, the crocus, the hyacinth and peony.    From my kitchen window, as I look down the garden, it is bursting with colour in amongst the fiery red dogwood and it makes me smile.  Soon the forsythia and cherry blossom will show off in the front garden and give a spectacular display and year after year, it never disappoints.

Not only did we grow build a beautiful home and grow and a lovely garden, we grew a family and it has been home to many more children, other than our own.  The walls of this house have seen and heard alot, of tears and laughter, of joy and sadness, of hello’s and goodbyes of ups and downs.  It is only 19 years old, but it holds a great history of all those that have lived here.  All but two of them have moved on to their own homes, their own journeys, but not necessarily their final destinations.  This is not my final destination either and I don’t think my next move will be either.

Will it be moving (as in the emotional sense) ?  Yes of course, there are so many memories here, from the laying of the foundations to  the erecting of the boundary fence. The nurturing of the children and grandchildren and watching them grow.  However, the foundations we laid in them, is far more important and powerful and  the boundaries of memories, know no bounds, so will stay with us all, no matter where we are.

I hope therefore, whomever buys my home, will love it as much as the love that went into it and be happy here.   For me, it has served it purpose and it is time for me to try something else new.  To lay some new foundations and plant a new life, with all my memories tucked safely away and  where some new memories will be made.  Whether I am crazy, or selfish, taking a risk or being brave, it matters not, what matters is that I am moving, moving forward and exploring the next stage of this thing called Life !


person standing on arrow
Photo by Vicky Tran on


Paper Roses

Paper Roses – bittersweet in that there is no fragrance, but can last longer than the real thing!




paper roses
Photo by Fathi Vee on

When I was a girl I was a big Donny and Marie Osmond fan….. Like most 8 year old’s in 1973, this song, Paper Roses’ was blasted out on my cassette player, which I had ‘taped’ off the radio.  Kids today will not understand this concept. – they have smart phones, I tunes and spotify at the touch of their tiny fingers!

I really loved this particular song and believe I had some understanding of the meaning behind it.  Yes I know I was only 8, so how could I have the emotional intelligence to understand it…..   I guess it was in the way that Marie sang it, with emotion and meaning.  You can ‘feel’ that.

My aunts and granny would get me to sing , when we were on holidays in Ireland, not to mention get me to perform the reel or a jig.  I was the ‘entertainment’.  I was embarrassed at first, but always complied and the  rapturous  applaud would make my confidence soar and my nerves disappear….. for another year!

Back to the paper roses song, how many people experience that ‘imitation love’ but stick with it?  I think the answer is higher than we’d imagine…. or is it that it is not really an ‘imitation’ love, just a ‘gone off the boil’ love and how can you tell the difference?   I think the answer is that you ‘Feel it’.

Every romantic relationship will have it’s ups and downs.  That is natural  and some people are just not meant to be together while others are truly destined to be together.  Does it all come with plain sailing though…. no, not at all.  The same as parenting, there is no guide book for that either, you just muddle through and hope for the best!

The thing is with romance, shouldn’t there at least be a meeting of the minds, be on the same wavelength,  be heading in the same direction.  The heart stuff is easy, for some too easy, to fall in love…….  Once there, in that love place, the complications begin.  It is in that place that even the coldest, most inconsiderate, upsetting situations can arise, but then you are trapped in the web, as your heart is telling you to stay.  But what is your head telling you?

It switches, stay, go, stay, go…. until one day you will finally make the decision.  I know I have done this a few times in my life.  I have loved, and been in that love place, but I left, because it was the right thing to do.  We did not have a meeting of the minds.  we were not on the same wavelength and we were not heading in the same direction.  Was it easy? of course not.  It was difficult, upsetting, hurtful, chaotic and topsy turvy, not to mention absolutely depressing, but it was still the right thing to do.  The love was there but not the most important bits to sustain the relationship.  This was the real roses, but like all living things, they died, as did the love, eventually.

Sometimes, the love place has wained,  but there is still a meeting of the minds, the same wavelength and focus on the same direction.  Is this then, an ‘imitation’ love, is this a paper roses love, where the  roses can last much longer than the real ones, but just need dusting off every now and then to preserve them?  The paper roses can be put away,  ignored for a while and then rediscovered one day, taken out, dusted off and be on full display again to be enjoyed.  They have perseverance and staying power.  They may curl and bend, but they won’t wilt and die.

Which is best then, the imitation love and paper roses, or the true love, that has the potential to die.  Perhaps it is possible for them to cross over,  like osmosis, a weaving in and out of real and imitation love and real and imitation paper roses.

The one thing I do know, is the love one should have for themselves, in order that they can truly love someone else !


Do you Smoke?

Going for a check up ‘down there’ is never a pleasant experience and always embarrassing, but unfortunately it is necessary….



person wearing white elbow sleeved top covering beige sun hat

Photo by Min An on

We have had a terrible amount of tragedy here in Ireland in relation to the Cervical Smear Scandal.   Tragedies, which could have and should have been avoided.  Women who have or are dying of cervical cancer, which needn’t have and shouldn’t have.  Human error.  Human mistake.  It has and is costing lives.  Taking women away from their families, husbands, children, friends, THEIR life,  THEIR  future.

If anything has come out of the ‘massive blunder’, it is that more women are heading to their G.P surgery for the dreaded smear test.  Others are still waiting in anxious anticipation that their results will be good news.   My own adult children have attended recently to get their smear test done.  There is a 5 MONTH wait on expected results.  That is a long long time to be worried, particularly if you have any sort of ‘symptoms’ going on ‘down there’

Symptoms can include, spotting, soreness, painful intercourse, increased discharge, unexplained back pain…….  My personal experience, years ago, when I did indeed have ‘symptoms’ and begged for a smear, was told I was too young.  Too Young….    I was 23.    I was planning my wedding.  I experienced painful intercourse.  I was told to go to a sex therapist, that there was nothing wrong with me, it was all in my head…. I was too young.

Long story short, I went to the sex therapist…. It was still sore……   I badgered my G.P again and again to do more smears…. I wanted a baby once I was married, but  thought if I can’t get anything in, how the hell can I get anything out!

I changed my status from single to married, endured painful intercourse and  also changed G.P.  after several ‘clear’ smear test results.  Roll on a couple of years I finally found a G.P that LISTENED to me.  Sent me to see a Gynaecologist.  As he was about to examine me, and I was totally mortified with embarrassment, he asked ‘Do you smoke’.  My first reaction was to look where he was probing, to see how could he tell.  Were there tell tale signs down there!!  I felt doubly embarrassed then.

Finally,  after listening to my tale of clear smears for the last couple of years,  sex therapist sessions and still painful intercourse, he arranged for me to have a  colposcopy, where a scan of the ‘area’ is done and a biopsy is taken.

‘Oh yes my dear, there is definitely something wrong here’ were his exact words as he was ‘scanning’.   Relief, was my first emotion, that I was not indeed mad or frigid!  Terrified was my next emotion.   I had to wait 2 weeks for the results and I can tell you it was 2 weeks of hell on earth.

My cells were at precancerous stage.   Any longer and it would have developed into cervical cancer proper and I would not be here to tell the tale.  My point is this.  Had I not insisted and badgered and kept going back to my G.P by the time I had other ‘ symptoms’ it would probably have  been too late.  It took me several clear smears, over 2 years and a colposcopy and all the embarrassment that went with it to find out, there was indeed a problem.

I was treated almost immediately in hospital and stayed 5 days for them to blast and burn the cells, in 2 areas ‘down there’ and was followed up every 6 months thereafter for a couple of years..  At age 30 I had a hysterectomy due to other reasons, but the fear of Cervical Cancer had now been totally eliminated.

I still have no idea why the gynaecologist asked ‘Do you smoke’.  I’m still hoping there is no way of telling by looking at said region, but I was too embarrassed to ask him, why did he ask me that, so I will never know!

So for all females out there, get over the embarrassment and get the test done.  If you are not totally happy, even with a clear result, go badger your doctor for a Colposcopy…. it may just save your life.  Lets not have any more Mistakes!


Baking bread

the tragic loss of a child lasts a lifetime….the hurt in the heart never fades

Upon the lake so still and deep
The sunrise shines, a glow does creep
The life below, feels it’s warmth, Yet all I feel is sad, forlorn
For on the lake you take a boat, to have some fun, to fish, to float.

At home I was baking bread. ‘I’ll be back soon is what you said.
‘Monday, Monday ‘ you sang out the door. A smile, a wink, I’ll see no more. For as I busied, making more bread. My darling son, he was now dead.

The boat he had, was but a farce, made from the roof of a clapped out car. And so he sailed, upon the lake, not knowing the horror of his fate.

The house was filled with a lovely smell. The boat turned over, and in you fell. Oh you could swim, but not that day. Your hobnail boots took you away. As I looked towards the gate, down you sank with the weight.

Your friend he tried, but all in vein. You went down once, then twice again. I made some butter for the freshly baked bread. Not knowing right then, my son was dead. I sat at the table and made the tea, waiting for you to come home to Me.

Then there came a rap at the door. A man there sobbing ‘you’ll see him no more’. For he has gone into the lake. Never to return, is his fate. I stumbled back, into the chair, at this man, I could but stare.

I held my chest, my poor heart shattered. To hold you now was all that mattered. Turn back the clock to breakfast time. When you were here, when you were mine.

‘Stop your crying’, the priest said to me. God has called him, now, you see. I sobbed and screamed at the loss of you. ‘Don’t you know, we want him too?

But a child of 14 years. No time can heal to stop the tears. The lake so still, the water runs deep. As I bake bread now, forever you sleep.

That’s me in the Corner

When everything else looks the same, when you are looking at what you expect to see, take a look closer. Look for something that seems different, look for the unexpected and you many well have your mind opened and be so totally pleasantly surprised……


I think of the words of R.E.M…… just look at them and think about them…

Oh, life is bigger
It’s bigger
Than you and you are not me
The lengths that I will go to
The distance in your eyes
Oh no, I’ve said too much
I set it up
That’s me in the corner
That’s me in the spotlight
Losing my religion
Trying to keep up with you
And I don’t know if I can do it
Oh no, I’ve said too much
I haven’t said enough
I thought that I heard you laughing
I thought that I heard you sing
I think I thought I saw you try
Every whisper
Of every waking hour
I’m choosing my confessions
Trying to keep an eye on you
Like a hurt lost and blinded fool, fool
Oh no, I’ve said too much
I set it up
Consider this
Consider this
The hint of the century
Consider this
The slip that brought me
To my knees failed
What if all these fantasies
Come flailing around
Now I’ve said too much
I thought that I heard you laughing
I thought that I heard you sing
I think I thought I saw you try
But that was just a dream
That was just a dream
That’s me in the corner
That’s me in the spotlight
Losing my religion
Trying to keep up with you
And I don’t know if I can do it
Oh no, I’ve said too much
I haven’t said enough
I thought that I heard you laughing
I thought that I heard you sing
I think I thought I saw you try
But that was just a dream
Try, cry
Why try?
That was just a dream, just a dream, just a dream

These words can be interpreted in many different ways. For me, it brought to mind my wonderful grandson. Last night he participated with his school and other schools in our National Opera House in a concert called ‘Sing out Loud’. The Irony is, my grandson cannot speak. He is non verbal and has autism.

As I watched him, with immense pride, I was amazed at how he managed to stay on the stage for an hour and a half, with others, singing and dancing and playing instruments. It was indeed a spectacular show. I was truly mesmerized. I was particularly in awe and mesmerized with my grandson.

Children/people with autism are very sensory and react, often in a negative way to sensory overload. The noise on that stage, to him, must have been so bombarding on his hearing that he must have thought his ear drums would burst. Instead, my heart bursted with pride, at how he stood there, and at times sat, but nevertheless, he remained there, on the stage, at all times, with his peers, PARTICIPATING in a SING OUT LOUD, concert.

It was a full house. I knew he had autism, his father and his brother and a few other people who know our family, know he has autism. The rest of the audience did not. I imagine most were too busy watching with pride, their own family members on the stage. However, if they did happen to notice the boy, wearing the ear phones, NOT SINGING, and wondering, what he was doing there, let me tell you. He was being INCLUDED. He was being acknowledged and recognised by his teachers, by his school, as a person who could and should be allowed to participate in, and be engaged by, and with, what they were doing on that stage – having fun!

At school he has begun to communicate through a model called R.P.M. (Rapid Prompting Method). He touches a stencil, one letter at a time, in between his stimming and perceived lack of concentration, and his teacher (and his mother, my wonderful daughter, manages to get some words down, spelled out by him – (by the way he has taught himself to read and spell out words, because before RPM, it was considered that he would not learn like ‘typical’ children learn…. How wrong was EVERYONE!

Today, his teacher did an RPM session with him in school :-


Could we, as his family, be any more proud or in awe of him? NOOOOOOOO . He is wonderful. He is incredible. He is astonishing. He is important. He is entitled to be included. He is not an empty vessel. He is trying, so hard, to communicate. He is patient. He is kind. He is funny. He is sometimes isolated. He is amazing. He is hope. He is our everything. He is ENTITLED to be loved and acknowledged as a typical person. He just cannot speak…… He tries. He stimms… Do not think he is not a worthy person. He is, and more. He has to do more to prove is worth. He has to stand on a stage, with his peers, with them singing and joining in, while he stands there, with his toothbrushes, which he loves, and he has to look on, and endure the noise and the lights and the heat, and the stares and the knowing looks, some may give him, but he perseveres and he stays there, and he enjoys himself, BECAUSE, he has been included. He has been ACCEPTED as an equal to his ‘typical’ peers.

So, the next time you see a person, who may look or act or seem a little strange, remember our boy and the joy he communicated the day after he was treated like his ‘typical’ peers.

Always look for the extraordinary, for the odd one out, for the boy in the corner, and you may well be so suprised with what you will find out! Smile at him, accept him and know how amazing he actually is. Believe in the unbelieveable and never judge a book by its cover…… There is a whole new world inside!