Time to say Good Bye.

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He has gone to bed,
my only son.
All six foot of him.
As I type this I am still the mother,
of three school going children.
In a few short hours that will change.
My son will head off to school for his final exam after which,
I will be the mother of two school going children,
and hopefully two college goers.

I am on borrowed time.
To date I have been his constant.small__5466851383
The one who he knows is in his corner.
His mum.
The one who with just a look,
can tell how he is.

Tomorrow my schoolboy, my only son,
will leave for school for the last time.
No more school lunches to be made,
no uniforms or school books to be bought.
It is over.

As I sit here tonight I do so in wonder.
How did time pass so quickly?
A heartbeat ago I was waiting most impatiently,
for him to make his appearance.
Unaware of the joy in our lives I would give life to.

In what seemed like the blink of an eye,
I was buying him his first school uniform.
As my heart broke,
he raced into school,
without a backward glance.
The first of our ties broken forever.

As the days have raced by, into years,small__7569131882
we have shared so much.
The joys, fears, sorrows, and excitement,
that go with growing up.

Tomorrow as he towers over me,
he will leave home for school for the last time.
As I kiss him and say “Good Bye”,
He will think nothing of it.
Just his mum wishing him well in his final exam.
Little does he know what that kiss really says.
It says “Good bye my small boy.
Good bye to the million memories of your childhood I hold so dear.
Good bye my darling boy, I wish you well,
as now for you, lifes real adventures begin.”

photo credit: Lotus Carroll via photopin <a href="http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc-
photo credit: Lotus Carroll via photopin <a href="http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc-

I have the perfect face for blogging!

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DJs have the perfect face for radio!
Isn’t it the truth,
that when you see a DJ you have listened to for years,small__5522932902
in real life, for the first time,
they are a major disappointment!
Nothing at all like you imagined.

Without realizing it, maybe over years,
you have built up a complete picture of them.
When you hear their voice,
you can see them clearly.
Their height, weight, physique, hair color and smile.

Well fellow bloggers I have to confess,
I have the perfect face for blogging!

This was brought to mind today,
by those who are supposed to love me unconditionally.
My children.

For in Ireland today the weather was glorious.
Great you say,
the sun shining showing up the magnificent country we live in.
Yes that is true.
But the said same sun has managed to reek havoc on my hair.

I did mention once before that I dye my hair.
I am a slightly alternative type,
so it has a hint of purple in it.
Well sunshine is not a friend to my hair dye.
Just as blue and red make purple,,
sunshine and purple hair dye make orange!small__2829618160
Today I am not a pretty sight,
as my children have cruelly pointed out.

This morning I was supposed to go as an emergency,
and have it looked after by professionals.
However the sun shone,
and as my mother would say,
“it would have been a sin to stay inside”.

So today as you read my words,
I take solace,
that the orange haired reality I see,
is hopefully nothing like the vision you picture of me.
The vision, I have created with words,
inside your mind,
since beginning this blog.
The vision that hopefully bears no resemblance at all,
to the real Tric.

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Loves first kiss.

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What age did you have your first kiss?
Was it love or anything but?

I was reading a post recently about a first kiss.
(I have tried and failed to find the blog to credit),
and since then I have found myself reminiscing.

I was a young eleven year old,
when playing hide and seek at a party,
the geekiest boy in the world,
made for my great hiding place under the table.
Despite me hissing at him,
and spreading myself out to leave no room,
he ignored my body language and barged in.

As we sat there listening to the sounds,
of all the others being caught,
I became aware of his proximity to me.
small_3603977757
I looked over at him to hiss once more,
and that is when I felt it.
Like a wet sponge or a large dog licking,
he made a dive for my face,
and in hindsight I realised I had had my first kiss!.
Gross.
The memory to this day has not faded.

I flew out of that hiding place,
and happily lost my game of hide and seek.
Kissing was off the menu for me.

Then many years later came loves first kiss.
As some of you know,
I was holidaying in Cyprus when I met my husband.
Myself and six trainee nurses.
He had caught my eye.
Sadly for all the wrong reasons.

He and his milky white skinned brother,
were to be seen most days,
with a million bottles of sun cream around them.
Factor 60 for the face, 30 for their legs,
and sun block for those translucent feet.
Then after all that suncreaming,
they sat in the shade, just in case they got sunburn!

However as days passed,
we exchanged glances and the odd conversation.
I began to orchestrate “bumping into him”.
The cool, I don’t run after men, Tric,
was quietly stalking him.
Chemistry causing my heart to beat faster.

Eventually he plucked up the courage,
and one night he asked me out.
We headed off together,
I sitting on the back of a moped.

However as I said he was different,
so on this our first date,
his brother came too!

We had a great night,
and eventually ditched his brother.
The night was drawing to an end,
and both of us were quieting,
the air between us electric,
as we anticipated our first kiss.

And just like that it happened.true loves first kiss
Almost immediately I felt it.
“True love” you say,
Chemistry exploding?
Sadly no.
Within seconds my recently eaten dodgy dinner,
came back to haunt me.
Now when I say “came back”,
that is exactly what I mean.

I broke loose and ran.
Shouting “don’t come after me please”.
I made it around the corner,
and lost my dinner.

I was horrified.
Casually I returned to my date,
and did not refer to what had happened,
only saying “I think I better go back to the girls”.
He drove me back,
and with barely a “Goodnight”,
I left him.

Thankfully he did decide to come back the next day,
and the rest as they say is history!

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“I hope you have the feet of a dancer”. A wish for my daughter before she even existed.

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I wonder if anyone else has done this?
I have dedicated a special song,
to each of my four children.
A different song for each one of them.

This is the story of my eldest daughter,
and how I chose her song.

Many years ago,
before I had my first child,
before my husband appeared on the scene,
I was sitting with my Dad in his bedroom.
He was very sick at the time with motor neuron disease,
but could still speak.

The two of us were chatting away,small__2862441631
putting the world to rights,
when I heard a song on the radio.
It was called “feet of a dancer”.

The lyrics go like this.
I hope you find the feet of a dancer,
I hope you can sing in the rain,
I hope you find all the easy answers to your pain;
It won’t be easy, what can I say,
There will be trouble along the way;
‘Round every corner there’s terror and fear,
Always remember that we’re here.

I hope you find the feet of a dancer,
I hope you can sing in the rain,
I hope you find all the easy answers to your pain;
I hope you find love and affection,
I hope you find someone who cares;
I hope you find all the right directions everywhere,
Everywhere.

A shoulder to cry on whenever you’re alone,
You can rely on us you know;
Nothing too crazy, nothing too dear,
Always remember that we’re here.

I thought it was beautiful.
My Dad turned to me,
with a lot of emotion in his voice he said,
“That is what every Dad would wish for his daughter”,
I turned to him and we hugged tightly.

I have never forgotten that moment.

Years later I had my first child, a daughter.
When I took her home from hospital,
I went searching for that song.
A song I had often sung to my daughter,
before she ever existed.
The lyrics saying more than I ever could.
A song that reminded me,
of a beautiful moment shared with my Dad.

Many days I spent watching her,mewborn kiss
as a sleeping newborn.
That song blaring in the background,
as I sang at the top of my voice,
my wish for her to “have the feet of a dancer”.

She flew the nest a few weeks ago,
with her “feet of a dancer”.
I hope she always remembers,
“there’s nothing too crazy, nothing too dear,
(and) always remember(s) that we’re here”.

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Fathers Day. A day to forget.

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I hate Fathers Day.

Every day for over twenty years,
I have missed my dad.
Once a year I am supposed to forget.

Forget that he missed my wedding.
Forget that he never saw my children,
or held them in his arms.
Forget that I never got to see,
his face light up with pride,
as mine would have,
seeing him hold his grandchildren for the first time.
I am supposed to forget that he died too young,
leaving us all behind.

On Fathers day I hurt.small__2046135197
I hurt so much even after all these years.
How could he be gone?
I have lived half my life with no Dad.
I read heartwarming posts to fathers the world over,
and I hurt,
a deep, painful,burning physical pain.
I want my Dad back.

Even though he would be almost eighty now,
I remember him where we left off.
I was twenty one and he in his early fifties.
I want to go back there,
and have him hold me in his arms,
and reassure me I would pass my nursing exams.
I want to see him dressed up,
to walk me down the aisle.
I want to introduce him to my four children,
and listen to him sing to them.
I would like to have him come to my house,
and fix all the DIY jobs my husband thinks are done well.
I would above all else love to see him,
hold my mum once more and take away her loneliness.

However whilst I battle on Fathers Day to forget,
on other days I remember.
The loving father I have posted about so often.
The quiet, funny, charming man,
who cared so much for his children.
The one who gave me a love of writing,
and taught me,
that it is not always the loudest who speaks the most sense.
The brave man, who faced his illness with great humor.
A wonderful father who has left a hole in our family,
we can never fill in.

On Fathers Day,
I will wish my husband,
the father of my children,
a very Happy Fathers Day.
But personally I will be saying.

Happy Fathers Day Not

For anyone who has lost their Dad,
take a moment to listen to this wonderful song.
I guarantee you will shed a tear,
but it is a fantastic tribute to any Dad.

http://www.maxilyrics.com/the-fureys-the-old-man-video-fb54.html

Posts I have written on my Dad

What it takes to be a real Dad?
More than words can say.
Miracle or coincidence

photo credit: Peter Werkman (www.peterwerkman.nl) via photopin cc

What makes the perfect man?

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As a child I never really imagined,
what my future partner in life might look like.
I was always a bit of a tomboy,
and not overly impressed by boys.

However as I grew up,
I began to know,
exactly what I liked and did not like in a man.

Visually I liked scruffy,
with a lot of sporty.
Tall with a good body,
and a nice smile.small__2822903332

In character he would be a leader,
but not always the designated leader.
He would perhaps be a musician,
not the rock star sort of one,
more the side of the road busker type.

He would not necessarily have a proper job,
nor in fact have money.
But he would be a man who drank pints,
and was perhaps a bit wild.

At the age of nineteen,
I headed abroad.
Six nurses all looking around,
scouting for talent,
and the man of their dreams.

In Cyprus he caught my eye.
My heart missed a beat.
Something happened to me,
everytime he passed my way.

I cannot understand even to this day,
what it was or why it was,
that he made me feel that way.

Maybe it was the sun?
Or perhaps I was a bit too generous with the alcohol?
Whatever the reason,
when I returned home from Cyprus,
I had a new “friend” with me.small__6829492057

He was clean shaven, a non drinker,
played no musical instrument,
and quietly spoken.
Sin of sins he was not from Dublin,
and spoke with a very strong Cork accent.
As for not working,
he was an accountant!
On the plus side he was tall!

After twenty years he is still by my side,
my rock, my best friend, my port in every storm,
and thankfully nothing like the man of my dreams.

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A life saver, one in a billion. Times person of the year award.

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Daily Prompt.
You’re asked to nominate someone for TIME’s Person of the Year. Who would it be, and why?

If only this award were real.
If only it were truly possible to nominate this person.times award
We could look you in the eye,
and say “Thank You”.

The person I am nominating is American, young and female.
That is all I know.

This person has offered to donate their bone marrow,
in a few weeks time.
The following day it will be flown to Ireland,
and hopefully will bring an end to a families nightmare.
A nightmare which began at Christmas.

Leukemia!
He was not just tired?
Or playing too much sport?

The tests were completed quickly.
The results were in.
Within weeks his family knew,
there was but one choice for this thirteen year old boy,
He needed a bone marrow transplant.

The family rallied round,
siblings were tested.
No match.
Ireland is a small country,
there had to be a great chance of a match.
No match.

It is at this point our nominee comes into the story.
The miracle of modern science tells us,
that this stranger and my friends son,
are perfectly matched.
Imagine a stranger being a closer match than family!

As I think about it though I am not surprised.
This young boy is an exceptional character.
He had shown this before he got sick,
and he has proven it beyond a shadow of a doubt since.
This young female is also exceptional,
an extraordinary individual, doing something amazing.
They are indeed well matched.
In fact tests have shown her to be a 10/10 match.
As good as it gets.

Having a young daughter myself in her twenties,
I cannot help but wonder,
“Why did this young girl decide to be a donor?”.
It is not something you would expect of one so young.bone marrow donor match
Why do more of us not consider it?

Luckily for us, whatever her reasons,
this remarkable girl did just that.
She will get the chance,
to save a life.
And for that she will receive nothing.
Not even a thank you!

So that is why I would like to nominate her,
for Times person of the year.
She is an exceptional person.
Quite literally one in a billion.
Surely a worthy winner of this award.

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