THE BRIGHTEST STAR IN THE SKY.

I write, not to impress others, not to make an impact, not to gain ‘Likes’ or ‘Stats’ but to express my deepest feelings when I have no other way of expressing them other than to self-sabotage in some way which I’m trying hard not to do (although not always succeeding).

I am hurting, hurting very much because I am being deprived of contact with my grandchildren, all three of them and one on the way. I saw this picture and it made me think that perhaps when I’m dead and gone, they will think of me as the brightest star in the sky shining down on them. On the other hand, they may not think of me at all, if ever…I just don’t know but then I guess none of us do.

In the meantime, I will love; I will love with all my heart and with everything I have got and wrap it up in pretty parcels for each one of you, my little missing ones. A hug will, of course, accompany each parcel. I will wait; I will wait for a long time; I will wait forever; I will always be waiting my darlings.

I long for my daughter or my son to pick the phone up one day and for me to hear the words “How are you, Mum?” But it’s not likely to happen. In the eight years since my first grandchild was born, it has never happened and I know it’s never likely to. Some say I am a pessimist. I say I am a realist with maybe a touch of pessimism which I think is fair and just, given the circumstances.

Oh, how I long to take you in my arms, my little ones, and hold you, hug you, tell you how much I love you; how much I’ve always loved you; how much I miss you being in my life; how much I miss being in your lives. I dream I will be invited to your sports’ day, your school play where you maybe play the sheep in the nativity play, a school concert to watch you play recorder, trying so hard to get the notes right. I dream of having your paintings and drawings adorn my kitchen cupboard doors and all over the freezer, to find bits of your Lego down the side of my sofa, to find a felt tip pen rolled under the table; anything to remind me of you.

I live in hope. I hope in vain. I hurt. I really hurt as salty tears roll down my face. They say that tears are nature’s way of healing…..If that were so, I would have healed the world by now.

Author: Ellie Thompson

Writing my memoirs, musings, a little fiction and a lot of poetry as a way of exploring and making the most of my life ... ... Having had a break from writing my blog for more than three years, I decided to return to write my memoirs, some day-to-day observations, views and feelings. My passion is non-fiction poetry. I have a disability and use an electric powerchair called Alfie and let nothing get in the way of living life to the full. I believe that you can never do a kindness too soon and should give credit where credit is due. A smile or a kind word could make the difference between a good or bad day for a person - we never know what's going on for another soul. Those little things, perhaps, practised daily like a mantra, could mean so much to someone else. Thank you for visiting my blog and reading a little more about me. Please, make yourself at home here. You are very welcome. Ellie x 😊 View all posts by Ellie Thompson