I was born in May, 1967. A breach birth with the umbilical cord around my neck... Nothing much has changed, I seem to do everything arse backwards.
One of my early poems describes this.
Being strangled into life
I chose to stay.
Within a year death ruptured
a vessel in my brain.
Once more I declined both death
and a vegetable state.
Then I became fairies,elves and
a prince in the books I read.
Until, between three and eleven
grand-daddy ripped
my child's body, heart and soul
into shredded innocents.
There he buried trust, love and
a naive child's spirit.
But, in my hand there was
a grain of me
I held it.
Inside the grain were
birds, rivers and willow branches
that wrapped around me.
Until rough hands, razor straps,
blood and tears
couldn't touch me anymore.
In the spring of 1967 Sandy Shaw entered the Eurovision Song contest with "Puppet On A String". My mother loved the song and "apparently" had it playing whilst I was being born. I obviously don't remember that bit...
She used to sing it to me though, and Bachelor Boy by Cliff Richard.
These songs are very special to me. I still really miss her, especially when feeling low. I miss not having a mother, more than actually her. My memories of her are very, very vague, probably because I blocked out much of my childhood. I hope that when my healing journey is over the good memories will return. I can then actualy remember her rather than an ideal. I know what I mean even if you don't!
So many of my good memories are attached to whatever music was playing at the time. I am one of those people who has to sing along when music is playing. Luckily, I have a good voice so people don't tell me to shut up.
ReplyDeleteOf dear, when I sing he birds start flying south... I love music and do sing aloud when I think no-one will hear....
ReplyDeleteI too was a breach baby! Music is my personal friend. It was what I used to escape when I was a child.. It is what I use now as well. Song... is a part of my soul and even though Im sure I cant sing.... Luckily.. no one has told me to be quiet...yet. I really belt one out in my car (with the windows up....of course)
ReplyDeleteThanks for posting this
...Being strangled into life
ReplyDeleteI chose to stay.
Within a year death ruptured
a vessel in my brain.
Once more I declined both death
and a vegetable state...
Those words tell me you were born to be a survivor. You are going forwards, not backwards, I can see that :-)
...I hope that when my healing journey is over the good memories will return. I can then actually remember her rather than an ideal...
I understand what you mean, it makes perfect sense to me.
What you said, "I miss not having a mother more than I actually her" That just resonated something inside of me. Somewhere inside when I lost the protection of my mother, there is the little girl who is missing not having a mother more than actually her.
ReplyDeleteI have never faced this fact before and it is scary.
Thank you for saying that. I get it! I really do!