A year later..

So it was year yesterday since my brother died. I've been a bit more wobbly about it than I expected to be really. I don't normally do anniversaries very well - good or bad. Firstly, I just don't remember things well. To be honest, I'm never that keen on putting aside a special day to remember anyone. I sort of think that if you are resonably sensitive and in touch with the person then everyday things will bring them to mind and then you respond accordingly. For instance, I came across this on t'Internet

This was from a programme called "An Audience with Victoria Wood" All those years ago, it was the first chance we had to see a Victoria Wood stand-up and Dave and I were big fans. Trouble was, we were due to go out that night. So, we set the video. Our new video. Checked it twice, gave it a start time of ten minutes early and a finish of ten minutes late, like you used to do in those days - just to make sure and off we went.
When we got back, we got a brew, sat down to watch the programme and were devastated when after about 15 minutes it stopped. It didn't seem to have recorded. Dave started fiddling with the wires and the connection and I shouted Mum in case she had noticed any problems.
When she came in she greeted us with the news that she thought that there was something wrong with the recorder. Well we knew that but why was she so sure?
"Well, " she explained " When I came in it was making a sort of whirring noise and I didn't like the sound of that so I unplugged it."
"Mum! It's making a noise because its recording! The little wheels go round on the tape see??!"
Unrepentant and unimpressed she said. "Well no-one told me. It's your own fault."
We never let her forget it and for years after that whenever we had set anything to record we would shout
"Mum, I've set the video. It will make a noise. Do not switch off, evacuate the house or call the emergency services ok?"
I guess you had to be there but it's the little memories like these that are the fabric of our relationships. It's often the little joys and the sorrows that we miss when people are gone. Like most people who have lost someone, I am grateful for the shared times and then I'm angry that, this side of heaven there won't be any more. We grew up together. We had plenty of differences, all of which we sorted because we loved each other and we had such a deep rooted life history. Not that we came to agree on everything because we didn't. It didn't seem to matter somehow. Not when the will was there to make it work. Not when you could remember laughing together at your Mum and her aversion to technology together - after you had got over the urge to kill her.
So now I move on. Not to forget but because life is too precious not to.

Life in the Lifeboat

Apologies for the lack of a blog last week. Complicated and boring reasons. Life continues here at Hargreaves Towers as usual in case you were wondering. I have spent a very thoughtful week though what with one thing and another. I know that's not like me but there you are. We went to a wedding yesterday. It was very nice although I barely knew a soul there (significant other half's work mate) People took pity on me and chatted and the like. The bride look lovely although the main picture I will take away from the day is the way she and the bridal party went speeding down the aisle like Usain Bolt. People were pressing their camera phones like billy-o trying desperately to get a bit of a photo as she whizzed past.
When you go to church every week, you forget how intimidating it can be. Childhood memories of miserable crows singing equally miserable songs may be strong in people's minds as well as what may be termed as "brushes" with Christians. Some people may have tried to attend church and not found a warm welcome or found the essential message delivered in a way that was so difficult that they gave up. All of these things have happened to people I know.
I can see things from the other side as well. People with problems become Christians. We find a home and a secure place with God in a church. This may be something that we have never known. We become settled with our friends and the people that love us. When new people come in, we don't always find the time or the inclination to talk to them because we are still dealing with our own things or just enjoying our friends' company. The trouble is that we are in the lifeboat and many of these people are not.
I am one of the few people in the world who has not seen Titanic. I know this puts me in a minority of about ten. Still, I know people who have never seen Star Wars and I, to my shame, can quote paragraphs of dialogue from it. (Original version. No CGI and Solo shot first by the way.) The only Titanic film I have ever seen was "A Night to Remember." It's not that different I imagine - it doesn't end well. My lasting memory of it is people trying to get onto lifeboats and people who were on pushing them away because they were frightened it would capsize. It was portrayed as cowardly and mean (in a very British, black and white kind of way) which of course it was. I don't think it's very different to what we do when we don't welcome people into our communities properly.
It should be easy for people to come in to be with us. We should be evolving strategies and creatively thinking of light and open ways for people to come and ask the questions that they need to ask. There should be places for people to go and people for them to see. We shouldn't wait for them to make the first move.
When I had known my significant other half for a little while - he rang up to ask me out. When I wasn't there, he left a message with my Mum along the lines of "If she fancies a night out - tell her to give me a call." I did call because I was mad for him but it didn't make it right and I have made him pay for it on and off for the last twenty years! We are supposed to do the inviting. We are suppsed to show it as irresistible which it is. It's our job to be holding out the oar for people to get hold of - not smacking them on the head with it until they go away.
So at the end of a very thoughtful week for me. I leave you with a thoughtful video. If you are one of the two people on the planet not to have seen this. I warn you. Prepare to have your brain mashed by a song that won't go away!

The Power of Failure

Unless you have been living down a hole on the planet Zog, you will be aware that the exam results season has just drawn to a close. Male Fruit of Womb sorted his own results out this year - something about his entire future depending on it being done properly. To be quite honest, I could be quite insulted by this. No gratitude today's young people. OK so when I picked his GCSEs up - I did get a bit lost in the school - I'll give you that. And, embarrassingly, when I asked the way to the room where the results were I was actually standing in the doorway of the room in question. BUT, it was really badly signposted. And, I did get the results back safe and sound - eventually. Anyway, as I said he got his own results this year. (Hope you are keeping up - you will need to concentrate)  However, Fruit of Womb Two also had some results to collect this year. I will digress here actually if that's OK with you (There's not  lot you can do about it to be honest) I do need to say that in my day, there were CSEs, GCSEs and A levels. You took the first two then, two years later, if you so desired, you took A levels. Now people seem to be taking exams every twenty minutes or so. It's very difficult for your average parent to keep up.
So, with our offspring away, it fell to me to collect the Girl's exam results. The difference this time was that she would rather that I didn't. Because she had already taken a sort of double dog dare mock exam thingy in science as part of the multi layered exam life that teenagers live in. What you have to know about our Girl is that science doesn't exactly float her boat. She loves English and Media and Literature. She looks forward to the day when all her study life revolves around these subjects. You probably also need to know that in her Chemistry mock she was the not very proud possessor of a "U".
It was a shock - the U. She wasn't used to it. At this point she had a choice. She knew that she was never going to win the Nobel Prize for Chemistry but did she want to be looking at the U letter when she opened the real exam results? So, she decided to do something about it. She gave up lunch hours to go to extra lessons. She went online to find out the answer to questions she didn't understand and she revised for England. At this point - I would love to tell you that she developed a deep passionate love for Chemistry and is, at this very moment, working with top people to develop a self tan product that doesn't need all the streaky bits rubbing off with a loofah. But that would be a lie. She went into the exam as well prepared as she could be and came out of it feeling a bit better than she did the last time but questions about how well she thought she had done were answered with an non committal "Haven't the foggiest"
As results day approached there were lots of conversations like this
Moi   If you are away, please leave a letter for me to pick up your results.
Her   No need. I don't need to know.
Moi   Yes you do. It's your future. It's important
Her   Not if Daniel Radcliffe comes and whisks me away.
Moi   Unlikely. Do the letter.
Her   (Warming to her subject) Or I get a place at RADA
Moi   Even more unlikely, you haven't applied. I've done the letter. Sign it if you want to live.

The day went without a hitch. (Well I did arrive two hours early and I did get lost in the school - a bit) And I opened the letter and sitting there was a luscious A* in Chemistry.
You probably know this but maybe you need to hear it. It really isn't the failure. It's what you do with it. Do you resolve never to have another go in case you faff it up or do you grab your underpants with both hands, pull them up and give sorting it everything you have? Christians serve the God of the Second Chance. There is always a way back. Sometimes you have to work your way through stuff to get it right. But, the feeling you get when you open the envelope with the right result after it had all gone wrong is the best feeling in the world.