In Memory of Michael Another year passes.

My Baby boy would have been 28 today 😦

Never forgotten and Always Missed.

Hello old friend, Oh yes you know

I lost my child a while ago.

No, no please, don’t look away

And change the subject, It’s ok.

You see at first I couldn’t feel,

It took so long, but now it’s real.

I hurt so much inside you see

I need to talk, come sit with me?

You see, I was numb for so very long,

And people said, “My, she is so strong.”

They did not know I couldn’t feel,

My broken heart made all unreal.

But then one day, as I awoke

I clutched my chest, began to choke,

Such a scream, such a wail,

Broke from me.. My child! My child!

The horror of reality.

But everyone has moved on, you see,

Everyone except for me.

Now, when I need friends most of all,

Between us there now stands a wall.

My pain is more than they can bear,

When I mention my child,

I see their blank stare.

“But I thought you were over it,”

Their eyes seem to say–

No, no, I can’t listen to this, not today.

So I smile and pretend, and say, “Oh, I’m ok”.

But inside I am crying, as I turn away.

And so my old friend, I shall paint on a smile,

As I have from the start,

You never knowing all the while,

All I’ve just said to you in my heart.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

My Mum, she tells lies

She never did before.

From now until she dies,

she’ll tell a whole lot more.

Ask my Mum how she is,

And because she can’t explain,

She will tell a little lie–

She can’t describe the pain.

Ask my Mum how she is,

She’ll say “I am all right.”

If that’s the truth, then tell me

Why does she cry every night?

Ask my Mum how she is,

She seems to cope so well.

She didn’t have a choice, you see,

Nor had the strength to yell.

Ask my Mum how she is,

“I’m fine; I’m well; I’m coping.”

For God’s sake Mum, tell the truth,

Just say your heart is broken.

She’ll love me all her life–

I loved her all of mine.

But if you ask her how she is,

She’ll lie and say she’s fine.

Here I am in Heaven,

I cannot hug from here.

If she lies to you, don’t listen;

Hug her, and hold her near.

On the day we meet again,

We’ll smile, and I’ll be bold,

I’ll say, “You’re lucky to get in here, Mum,

With all the lies you’ve told!”

Astronaut Neil Armstrong dies, aged 82 may he R.I.P


I am not one to post R.I.P notices for every person or celebrity that passes but I do think this Icon deserves a Mention.

So few men have had the opportunity to make such a mark upon history. He was a great man and will never be forgotten.

I was only 6 or 7 when he landed on the moon and I remember it being on the news and going round a friends house to see with my parents because they had a colour tv a luxury we didn’t have at the time.
I think it was the first newsworthy item that I ever actually paid attention to .. lets face it kids of that age are not really into the news.

So I have to say I was saddened to see this news this evening

US astronaut Neil Armstrong, the first man to set foot on the Moon, has died at the age of 82.

 

His family says he died from complications from heart surgery he had earlier this month.

 

He walked on the Moon on 20 July 1969, famously describing the event as “one small step for [a] man, one giant leap for mankind”.

 

Last November Armstrong received the Congressional Gold Medal, the highest US civilian award.

 

He was the commander of the Apollo 11 spacecraft. He and fellow astronaut Edwin “Buzz” Aldrin spent nearly three hours walking on the moon.

 

‘Reluctant hero’

 

Armstrong, who was raised in Ohio, took his first flight aged six with his father and formed a lifelong passion for flying.

 

He flew Navy fighter jets during the Korean War in the 1950s, and joined the US space programme in 1962.

 

Correspondents say Armstrong remained modest and never allowed himself to be caught up in the glamour of space exploration.

 

“I am, and ever will be, a white-socks, pocket-protector, nerdy engineer,” he said in February 2000, in a rare public appearance.

 

In a statement, his family praised him as a “reluctant American hero”who had “served his nation proudly, as a navy fighter pilot, test pilot, and astronaut”.

 

 http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Neil_Armstrong

Good Friends Good Coffee Good Life.

 

What happens when you put friends, Especially when you haven’t seen them for 5 weeks and who usually only have time to catch up on facebook together.

A four hour Chat-Fest Thats what.

I haven’t had a good chat with Mary for quite a while, we do get together on our own as well as the usual coffee met ups.

But with the boys being on summer holidays I haven’t had a chance to do the ladies that coffee at all. When we got back from holiday was when Mary went away camping on her summer break… Then disaster struck… she got ill and I mean ill… they had a ready cooked chicken from Tesco’s close to their camp site and all got the trots and sickness… Mary who had eaten the most chicken got it the worst……. Now bearing in mind they came home early from holiday because of everyone being ill and I knew this from the moment she got back as she let me know, its the first time she was up to someone coming to see her and its over a week and a half later.. When I saw her today she looked terrible… I could see how ill she had been see how much weight she had lost… and what really peeves me off the most is that none of her other so called friends had even asked how she is.

 

you really do find out who your friends are in times of sickness I just feel bad for Mary I really do… I love my boys to bits but I have to say I am looking forward to when they go back to school so we can resume our regular coffee meet ups where we can put the world to rights .

 

The Lost Wallet and the Letter

 

I must be getting sentimental in my old age.

Of course it is probably a load of old rubbish but touching all the same,

It kinda makes me realise that sometimes there are happy endings.. If only that was true! 

 

“The Lost Wallet”

 

 

As I walked home one freezing day, I stumbled on a wallet someone had lost in the street. I picked i

t up and looked inside to find some identification so I could call the owner. But the wallet contained only three dollars and a crumpled letter that looked as if it had been in there for years.

 

The envelope was worn and the only thing that was legible on it was the return address.

 

I started to open the letter, hoping to find some clue. Then I saw the dateline–1924. The letter had been written almost sixty years ago. It was written in a beautiful feminine handwriting on powder blue stationery with a little flower in the left-hand corner. It was a “Dear John” letter that told the recipient, whose name appeared to be Michael, that the writer could not see him any more because her mother forbade it. Even so, she wrote that she would always love him.

 

It was signed, Hannah.

 

It was a beautiful letter, but there was no way except for the name Michael, that the owner could be identified. Maybe if I called information, the operator could find a phone listing for the address on the envelope.

 

Operator,” I began, “this is an unusual request. I’m trying to find the owner of a wallet that I found. Is there anyway you can tell me if there is a phone number for an address that was on an envelope in the wallet?” She suggested I speak with her supervisor, who hesitated for a moment then said, “Well, there is a phone listing at that address, but I can’t give you the number.” She said, as a courtesy, she would call that number, explain my story and would ask them if they wanted her to connect me. I waited a few minutes and then she was back on the line. “I have a party who will speak with you.”

 

I asked the woman on the other end of the line if she knew anyone by the name of Hannah. She gasped, “Oh! We bought this house from a family who had a daughter named Hannah. But that was 30 years ago!”

 

“Would you know where that family could be located now?” I asked.

 

“I remember that Hannah had to place her mother in a nursing home some years ago,” the woman said. “Maybe if you got in touch with them they might be able to track down the daughter.”

 

She gave me the name of the nursing home and I called the number. They told me the old lady had passed away some years ago but they did have a phone number for where they thought the daughter might be living.

 

I thanked them and phoned. The woman who answered explained that Hannah herself was now living in a nursing home.

 

This whole thing was stupid, I thought to myself. Why was I making such a big deal over finding the owner of a wallet that had only three dollars and a letter that was almost 60 years old?

 

Nevertheless, I called the nursing home in which Hannah was supposed to be living and the man who answered the phone told me, “Yes, Hannah is staying with us. ”

 

Even though it was already 10 p.m., I asked if I could come by to see her. “Well,” he said hesitatingly, “if you want to take a chance, she might be in the day room watching television.”

 

I thanked him and drove over to the nursing home. The night nurse and a guard greeted me at the door. We went up to the third floor of the large building. In the day room, the nurse introduced me to Hannah.

 

She was a sweet, silver-haired old timer with a warm smile and a twinkle in her eye.

 

I told her about finding the wallet and showed her the letter. The second she saw the powder blue envelope with that little flower on the left, she took a deep breath and said, “Young man, this letter was the last contact I ever had with Michael.”

 

She looked away for a moment deep in thought and then said Softly, “I loved him very much. But I was only 16 at the time and my mother felt I was too young. Oh, he was so handsome. He looked like Sean Connery, the actor.”

 

“Yes,” she continued. “Michael Goldstein was a wonderful person. If you should find him, tell him I think of him often. And,” she hesitated for a moment, almost biting her lip, “tell him I still love him. You know,” she said smiling as tears began to well up in her eyes, “I never did marry. I guess no one ever matched up to Michael…”

 

I thanked Hannah and said goodbye. I took the elevator to the first floor and as I stood by the door, the guard there asked, “Was the old lady able to help you?”

 

I told him she had given me a lead. “At least I have a last name. But I think I’ll let it go for a while. I spent almost the whole day trying to find the owner of this wallet.”

 

I had taken out the wallet, which was a simple brown leather case with red lacing on the side. When the guard saw it, he said, “Hey, wait a minute! That’s Mr. Goldstein’s wallet. I’d know it anywhere with that bright red lacing. He’s always losing that wallet. I must have found it in the halls at least three times.”

 

“Who’s Mr. Goldstein?” I asked as my hand began to shake.

 

“He’s one of the old timers on the 8th floor. That’s Mike Goldstein’s wallet for sure. He must have lost it on one of his walks.”

 

I thanked the guard and quickly ran back to the nurse’s office. I told her what the guard had said. We went back to the elevator and got on. I prayed that Mr. Goldstein would be up.

 

On the eighth floor, the floor nurse said, “I think he’s still in the day room. He likes to read at night. He’s a darling old man.”

 

We went to the only room that had any lights on and there was a man reading a book. The nurse went over to him and asked if he had lost his wallet. Mr. Goldstein looked up with surprise, put his hand in his back pocket and said, “Oh, it is missing!”

 

“This kind gentleman found a wallet and we wondered if it could be yours?”

 

I handed Mr. Goldstein the wallet and the second he saw it, he smiled with relief and said, “Yes, that’s it! It must have dropped out of my pocket this afternoon. I want to give you a reward.”

 

“No, thank you,” I said. “But I have to tell you something. I read the letter in the hope of finding out who owned the wallet.”

 

The smile on his face suddenly disappeared. “You read that letter?”

 

“Not only did I read it, I think I know where Hannah is.”

 

He suddenly grew pale. “Hannah? You know where she is? How is she? Is she still as pretty as she was? Please, please tell me,” he begged.

 

“She’s fine…just as pretty as when you knew her.” I said softly.

 

The old man smiled with anticipation and asked, “Could you tell me where she is? I want to call her tomorrow.” He grabbed my hand and said, “You know something, mister, I was so in love with that girl that when that letter came, my life literally ended. I never married. I guess I’ve always loved her. ”

 

“Mr. Goldstein,” I said, “Come with me.”

 

We took the elevator down to the third floor. The hallways were darkened and only one or two little night-lights lit our way to the day room where Hannah was sitting alone watching the television. The nurse walked over to her.

 

“Hannah,” she said softly, pointing to Michael, who was waiting with me in

the doorway. “Do you know this man?”

 

She adjusted her glasses, looked for a moment, but didn’t say a word. Michael said softly, almost in a whisper, “Hannah, it’s Michael. Do you remember me?”

 

She gasped, “Michael! I don’t believe it! Michael! It’s you! My Michael!” He walked slowly towards her and they embraced. The nurse and I left with tears streaming down our faces.

 

“See,” I said. “See how the Good Lord works! If it’s meant to be, it will be.”

 

About three weeks later I got a call at my office from the nursing home. “Can you break away on Sunday to attend a wedding? Michael and Hannah are going to tie the knot!”

 

It was a beautiful wedding with all the people at the nursing home dressed up to join in the celebration. Hannah wore a light beige dress and looked beautiful. Michael wore a dark blue suit and stood tall. They made me their best man.

 

The hospital gave them their own room and if you ever wanted to see a 76-year-old bride and a 79-year-old groom acting like two teenagers, you had to see this couple.

 

A perfect ending for a love affair that had lasted nearly 60 years.

 

– Anonymous

I spy with my little eye… A Lancaster in the distance!! We saw a mini flyover

We took the boys and Amber out for the day to the RAF Manston history museum and the spitfire and hurricane museum a place we go to quite often but this time we had an added surprise…

We were just in the cafe from the distance I heard a noise it was a very familiar noise… I looked out the window and yep I could just make it out what looked like a Lancaster was taxiing down the runway it vanished in the distance so I told Allan to grab the camera and go out, I followed him, then we could hear the engines looking through the zoom on the camera we could see it… it then went quiet for a second and then the beautiful bird took off……. way to go.. The boys were well impressed! what a bonus for the day.

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In fact it was a great all round day because on the way back we stopped in Reculver as well

 

 

 

4 weeks left of the summer holidays wow time is flying fast.

Really Fast, We have been away and come back, Earlier than planned but in a way its a blessing in disguise,   I don’t know how many more late nights the boys could have lasted as they were both exhausted.
The weather was fantastic.. we got caught in one five min rain shower…

ok torrential rain shower where we got soaked through but once we had nipped in the chippy, had something to eat and then gone to the amusement park we soon dried off..

The boys loved every second of their mini holiday from the moment we got there to the trip home where they fell asleep exhausted in the car…..

surprisingly they loved the sooty and sweep show… of course they loved the big space show… (the geeky side of them) and the circus….  went swimming every day which we have had to promise to carry on at least once a week. as well as loads of other stuff…

When we got home we got the wardrobes over from Jo’s that I had bought off her,  one for our room and one for Ambers, 
and then discovered that our one didn’t fit in our room so we moved a chest of draws into ambers room and a book case……  the other book case ended up on the top landing.
we still have loads of books to stack on the shelves.. and of course all the cook books.  but hey we will get this house sorted one day.  Yes he is even a hoarder of books… thankfully he has agreed that I can get rid of some.

Anyway my peace had been disturbed as Alex has now woken up…

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Getting used to Android phones.

When Allan gets his upgrade I always inherit the old phone. Well that’s when he isn’t breaking or losing it that is.  Well this time we went for the galaxy s lll and I became the proud owner of the htc desire and I’m still working out how to use it hence this post now!
It’s an experiment of sorts.  It’s all new to me but hey if I can write this post from tucked up in bed then it comes in handy 🙂