Bestsellers: Duo - the Wedding Day and My Love Read online

  I’d like to finish this article with a passage from one of my favourite films, “Captain Corelli’s Mandolin”

  “Love is a temporary madness. It erupts like an earthquake and then subsides. And when it subsides you have to make a decision. You have to work out whether your roots have become so entwined together that it is inconceivable that you should ever part. Because this is what love is. Love is not breathlessness, it is not excitement, it is not the promulgation of promises of eternal passion. That is just being “in love” which any of us can convince ourselves we are.

  Love itself is what is left over when being in love has burned away, and this is both an art and a fortunate accident. Your mother and I had it, we had roots that grew towards each other underground, and when all the pretty blossoms had fallen from our branches we found that we were one tree and not two.”

  Coming to terms with the reality of love

  Love is a wonderful gift. There are many different types of love; love of a child, parental love, sibling love, the love of friendship and of course romantic love. Loving each other is what makes us human and makes us feel alive and wanted. We all have a profound ability to love each other and it is the most natural emotion in the world. However, maintaining and sustaining love can sometimes be different in reality to what we might have originally thought or believed.

  The simple reality of love is that it can sometimes be hard work. I know, that can be quite a shocking sentence to read, but it is a fact of life. For example; we all love our children unconditionally, but let's face it, they can be hard work at times. Nobody enjoys being woken in the middle of the night to a screaming infant, demanding to be fed or changed.

  It's not always easy to put their wants and needs above our own all the time, but we do it because we love our children and want the best for them. Sometimes, in our relationships we have to compromise when all we really want is our own way.

  Love should be unconditional. We should love another person for who they are, not for what they do for us or who they might be in the future. Love means encouraging the other person to fulfil their potential. Love is letting the other person go, if it is what's best for them. Love is telling the other person what they don't necessarily want to hear, but which they need to hear and know.

  Love is kindness, selflessness, loyalty, trust, honesty, fairness and mutual respect and understanding. Love is never mean or unkind or selfish or unfaithful or untrue. Love is all that is good and kind and true in this world. We need to nurture and cherish love; that is the reality of love.

  To be loved by another is the most precious gift in this world; just as loving another is a gift. To be loved and to love in return is joyous. Loving another person makes us better. Jesus said “it is in giving that we receive.” So give love to those around you every day and you will receive love in return. What is this life and this world without love? A loveless world would be a world full of hopelessness and despair. Love opens our hearts and our minds.

  Giving and generosity

  “But whoever has the world's goods, and beholds his brother in need and closes his heart against him, how does the love of God abide in him?” (John 3:17)

  Giving and generosity should be the most fundamental character traits within each of us. There are many ways in which we can be generous and giving, some more obvious than others. We can give of our time, our money, our patience. Time is probably something which we could all give to each other more generously.

  We’re so busy rushing to work, rushing to the child-minder, rushing to prepare dinner, help the children with homework. Most of us are so caught up in the whirlwind of our own lives that it is easy to overlook the most important things. We are too busy to kiss our partner goodbye or hello, too busy to hug our children, too busy to listen to another’s problems.

  There are so many lonely people in the world, that a few moments of our time given generously and genuinely could brighten their whole day. We all want to feel heard, but we need someone to take the time to listen and to hear us. We can listen non- judgmentally, advise gently and love unconditionally.

  All of this can be a lot easier said than done, especially when our acts of generosity and giving are not necessarily appreciated. We should each try to actively and consciously approach life and our treatment of others in a generous way. If we become more aware of our actions we will find that being generous of heart and deed will become like second nature to us.

  I feel ashamed of myself now to admit that I used to walk by people who were misfortunate enough to have to beg for money on the street. I would try not to make direct eye contact with them, but would look out of the corner of my eye in disgust and condemnation and a little embarrassment.

  I would wonder to myself why they didn’t get a job like everyone else. Their begging annoyed me. I didn’t bother taking the time to ponder how they might have ended up in that situation.

  Then one day, on my way to work, I heard a voice calling my name. I looked around wondering who was calling me, when I glanced down and into a vaguely familiar face from my past. It was Tom, an old acquaintance of mine from a few years ago at school.

  I asked him how he had ended up begging on the streets. He said he’d left school, gotten a job in an office, met his girlfriend and they’d had a child together. Their child was severely handicapped and his girlfriend just couldn’t cope with looking after her so she left them. He quit his job to care for his child and eventually his savings ran out. He had to put the child into care and his life just went from bad to worse.

  He had no job and no way to pay the rent. He slept on his friends’ sofas for a while but he felt like he was quickly outstaying his welcome. One night he slept in a bus shelter and he had been begging on the streets and sleeping rough for the past few months.

  I willingly gave him the money I had in my purse and made my way slowly to work. Meeting Tom was an epiphany for me. I realised how lucky and blessed I was in my life. It made me think how generous and giving so many people in my life were towards me every day. I took their generosity for granted, and didn’t appreciate how giving my family and friends were to me.

  I thought about the many poor people I had passed without even bothering or thinking to give them a penny. I felt thoroughly ashamed. I promised myself that I would never pass another person who seemed like they needed help without giving them something; my money, my time, even a kind word.

  "Feed the hungry! Help those in trouble! Then your light will shine out from the darkness, and the darkness around you shall be as bright as day. And the Lord will guide you continually, and satisfy you with all good things, and keep you healthy too; and you will be like a well-watered garden, like an ever-flowing spring.” (Isaiah 58:10-11)

  And the crowds asked [John the Baptist], "What then should we do?" In reply he said to them, "Whoever has two coats must share with anyone who has none; and whoever has food must do likewise." (NRSV, Luke 3:10-11)

  The Bible tells us to share generously with those who are less fortunate than ourselves. We are not meant to live hard-hearted or self-centred lives. A greedy, miserly life leaves us devoid of anything but an empty craving for more possessions, more power or more status.

  What are possessions, status and power if our lives are empty of love and kindness and generosity? We should not look for a reward for our generosity. The look of thanks and happiness in another’s eyes should be reward enough.

  “He who gives to the poor will never want, but he who shuts his eyes will have many curses.” (Proverbs 28:27)

  We don’t have to drive ourselves into poverty in order to help others. We also have a responsibility to care for ourselves and our own needs. The Bible asks that we give generously of our wealth and abilities, regardless of how small the amount may seem. Even the smallest gesture of kindness can make a difference to someone in need.

  “And [Jesus] looked up and saw the rich putting their gifts into the treasury. And He saw a certain poor widow putting in two small coppe
r coins. And He said, "Truly I say to you, this poor widow put in more than all of them; for they all out of their surplus put into the offering; but she out of her poverty put in all that she had to live on."” (Luke 21:1-4)

  We have different gifts, according to the grace given us. If a man's gift is prophesying, let him use it in proportion to his faith. If it is serving, let him serve; if it is teaching, let him teach; if it is encouraging, let him encourage; if it is contributing to the needs of others, let him give generously; if it is leadership, let him govern diligently; if it is showing mercy, let him do it cheerfully. (Romans 12:6-8)

  We are all unique. We all have different God-given talents and gifts. Everyone has something to offer. A child can give his pocket money to the poor. We can give our time at the weekend to raising money for charity. We can tend to the sick, spend time with the lonely. We can make peace where there is trouble. We can give unselfishly and graciously of our time to our partner, children or parents.

  We may choose a job where we give of ourselves every day, for example, nursing or teaching. We can also make an effort to go about our daily lives by giving respect and encouragement to others.

  Some people might think that the more we give of ourselves to others, the poorer we become. We may have a little less time or a little less money, but when we give to others we bring meaning and fulfilment to our own lives in a way that all the money and possessions in the world can never match.

  Jesus said,

  “For if you give, you will get! Your gift will return to you in full and overflowing measure, pressed down, shaken together to make room for more, and running over. Whatever measure you use to give - large or small - will be used to measure what is given back to you." (Luke 6:38)

  Our generosity and giving towards those less fortunate than us should be motivated by a sincere desire to help other people and to try to make their lives a little easier. We should not look for public recognition or congratulation in our efforts to help. We should try to cultivate humility and quiet in our actions.

  "Be careful not to do your 'acts of righteousness' before men, to be seen by them. If you do, you will have no reward from your Father in heaven. So when you give to the needy, do not announce it with trumpets, as the hypocrites do in the synagogues and on the streets, to be honoured by men. I tell you the truth; they have received their reward in full.” (Matthew 6:1-2)

  We all have something to give. Some people have riches, others have talents, and we all have time. We should try to generously share our God-given gifts, no matter how large or small they may seem. When we do give with a pure heart, we make life a little easier for someone else and find true meaning and lasting satisfaction in our own lives.

  Death of a Loved One

  I am addicted to him, total and utter all-consuming addiction. I keep replaying our chats over and over again in my mind, trying to relive every word, every moment. I can't eat. I hardly sleep, only to dream feverishly of him. I want to touch him, smell him one last time. I want to lose myself in the mesmerising depths of his eyes. I want to hold him close and never let him go, but he is lost to me, gone forever.

  I have never felt unhappiness or pain like this before. My heart aches constantly, a raw, savage ache. I feel lost and completely alone without him. I can be surrounded by friends and family, people who I know love me dearly, but it doesn't matter. I don't have him anymore, and he has been my everything.

  Move on, people say, let him go. Time will heal your pain, others advise. I don't want time to pass. Every second, of every minute of every hour in every day means that time is separating us further and further, pulling us apart.

  I want time to stand still, or even reverse. I want to freeze time forever in every moment I have had with him, or even to rewind time further still to my life before him; my small, selfish, self-obsessed little life before him. I could have remained in that old life, never having known him, but I would have known that I was missing someone. Someone I loved, still love, beyond all else, my son.

  My precious son, Emmet, died on the tenth of October 2009. He was only two years old. Cot death, was the doctor's verdict. Not your fault, he'd explained. Nothing you could have done. So why did I believe that it was my fault, all my fault? If only I'd checked on him one more time, I might have saved him, I torture myself.

  The horribe, all-encompassing guilt is unbearable. I remember being relieved that he was sleeping late, for once. Usually he was awake before five o' clock in the morning, but that morning he was still asleep at nine. I luxuriated in the cosiness of my lie-in, one ear open for my baby's cries, but they never came. I didn't know then that I would never hear his cries again.

  Those two short years of Emmet's life were the happiest two years of my life. Emmet was a blessing, a gift from God. I started to truly believe in God, or a Higher Power, when I was pregnant. The miracle of life was unfolding before me.

  If I had ever doubted the existence of God I knew He was with me every time I looked into my baby's eyes. The love I felt for my baby, and still feel is true love. I wanted to protect him, nurture him, prepare him for the wonderful life that I was sure lay ahead for him, but that life was never to be.

  I know that I can never love anyone like that again. I don't want to feel love like that again, because I am too afraid of losing it. I can't take the pain of that loss. The void in my life is almost unbearable. I feel like I'm standing on the very edge of a precipice, overlooking a deep chasm below and that all I have to do is throw myself into the blissful darkness of the abyss. It would be such a relief from this heartache which is my constant companion now, but I can't do that to myself or to my son. I owe it to him to try to live some semblance of a life and carry on as best I can.

  I remember the horrible, sinking feeling I had when I realised my period was three weeks late. I had tried to block out the fact that I might be pregnant. I didn't want to be pregnant then, maybe never.

  Nine months of watching my body change beyond recognition, and then the aftermath; a wobbly body and a screaming baby to contend with. No thanks, I'd thought, vainly admiring my flat stomach in the mirror, motherhood was most certainly not on my agenda at this particular moment in time.

  When my period was six weeks late, I started to panic. I was still too much in denial to take a pregnancy test. I wanted to wait a few more weeks. I searched the internet looking for ways to bring on a period. I had two almost boiling hot baths every day for the next few weeks, but all I suffered was very pink, dried-out skin. I exercised vigorously and drank more wine than usual, but nothing happened.

  Finally, I took a pregnancy test, I actually took three tests and all three were positive. It was official, I was pregnant. Congratulations, my boyfriend had said, hugging me tight and taking a picture on his mobile phone of the positive pregnancy test. I looked at him in disgust.

  Congratulations, I'd thought with contempt, easy for you to say. My life is over. You'll still play football on Tuesday evenings with the lads, while I'm stuck minding the baby. You'll probably think you're doing me a favour if you mind the child for a few hours while I do the grocery shopping. A future of nappy changing and baby burping flashed before my eyes and I didn't like it.

  Abortion is such an ugly word. I considered it for a few weeks, trying to convince myself that my life could still be my own. I got all the literature from the doctor, investigated clinics in England. I even made the appointment, but I couldn't go through with it.

  Then the bleeding started, very light, barely noticeable at first, but then heavier. I was afraid, so very afraid. I spent two nights in hospital. They confirmed I was nine weeks pregnant. I realised there and then, lying in my hospital bed, attached to drips and monitors that I didn't want to lose this baby. I wanted this child, my child, my flesh and blood. I gently patted my slightly swollen stomach and willed my baby to live. Fight, I whispered, fight.

  It amazed me how quickly I changed my mind about my pregnancy. When faced with the prospect of losing my child, I r
ealised how much I wanted this baby. I started to embrace my impending motherhood. I read every book on pregnancy that I could get my hands on. I tracked the details of the following months in my diary. I had so many hopes and dreams for this child, and couldn't wait to meet my baby.

  It was an unusually cold December. I awoke on the morning of December seventh to the first snow of the winter. The ground was covered in a wonderful white blanket of soft powder. The calm stillness outside helped to distract me from the cramps that had started almost an hour before I'd finally decided to drag myself out of bed.

  Don't worry, little one, I thought as I gently patted my huge bump, it won't be long until we meet each other. Several hours and a lot of pain later I finally met my baby, Emmet. He was a tiny bundle of pink, wrinkled skin. I quickly forgot the agony I had suffered when I looked into his face. I was filled with an overwhelming rush of love.

  I never knew love or tiredness like I experienced over the following months. Emmet was quite a sickly baby, waking often and not feeding very well. He went through a phase of only sleeping for forty five minutes before waking again. I was so utterly exhausted at one point that I felt like I was sleep-walking through my days.

  Then Emmet would smile at me or look at me like he knew I was his mother and it was all worth it. Emmet's dad and I had split up during my pregnancy. He saw Emmet regularly but he was still too young for his dad to have him overnight. It was me and my baby against the world.

  Emmet's first word was "da" which I took to understand meant "dad". I would have liked for his first word to be "ma" but I was thrilled anyway.

  Nothing can protect us from death. Nobody can be our companion on the lonely road from life to death. My heart aches every day at the thought that my precious little boy was so utterly alone for the last few moments of his life on this earth. I torture myself with my memories of him and all the hopes I had for his future.