A Power Within

Category: In Death

A New Beginning.

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Taking little steps and turning the pages of a new life is often difficult. A life that will be so different for you without the one you love. As I knew long before Hamada died, that he would not survive MM. We discussed a plan that would help sustain me through this bereaved time. Taking a little holiday as soon as I felt well enough to do so was something Hamada in his wisdom had suggested. I have always wanted to travel more, there are so many places yet to see and certainly not so many years as there once was to do this in! I would make a gentle start with a small trip as part of my healing process. We never dwelled on him dying but often mentioned little things that I remember now that were  all said to help me. Now at his six month anniversary I have achieved my first trip away and how very lovely it was too.

I selected something easy and not far away, Denia in Spain.  A place I had first visited back in 1968. When as a young woman I had stayed as a guest in a beautiful villa “Mar-Jon” close to the base of Mount Montgo, the mountain that sits as a watchful eye over this pretty seaside town.

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Now of course packed to the gills with villas in every available space but still just as charming. I loved it then and always thought I would  return one day. Selecting a good hotel safe for single travellers with all the comforts of home was fun to do. Marvellous food, loads of good fish and delicious vegetables and desserts and with people my age and older, all looking for a genteel time, of course with fun and laughter but aimed at comfort and ease. It was delightful to listen to stirring new conversations and make new friends among the well travelled there. I was surprised to know that some had been returning to this part of Spain for many years, singles and couples all very happy with the clean and efficiently run hotel with its excellent bar and enjoyable evening music. An attractive place to unwind after a good dinner and a  day of walking and swimming.

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Denia in Spain is still a lovely town retaining much of its authentic Spanish charm. The picturesque marina that I remembered as a small place back in the 60’s, is set beneath the pretty old Castle; it had stayed long in my memory. Now a fabulous place full of luxury yachts of opulence, marvellous paved walk-ways and wonderful cafes and tapas bars with upstairs terraces for fabulous views of the bay. I spent most of my days walking in the warm sunshine, admiring the sleek ‘sun seekers’ and the huge ‘gin palaces’ shining and pristine with gleaming chrome, their smooth lines of design resting gently upon the bright blue of the Mediterranean sea and so ready for the ocean.

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I stopped each morning for marvellous Americano coffees to take in the beautiful views, then walked some more in the warmth of the Mediterranean sunshine. My shoulders  relaxed as I drunk in the beautiful vistas and for the first time in many months not – and I know this sounds so selfish – having to worry about pushing a wheelchair or almost carrying my dear Hamada. I could have walked there forever with the gentle sun warming my soul.

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A weekly market in Denia was a bustling delight, reminding me in some ways of the colourful souks of the middle east I purchased from a grand selection, two rather nice sun-suits for further holidays. The sweet Spanish lady insisting I tried them on over my t-shirt!  Still she was right they fitted perfectly and would have still been cheap at twice the price. Bright and gaudy stalls covering a large area sold all manner of things and certainly worth time spent there. The level walk to the town centre along pretty streets with the red white and pink of the bougainvillea covering pretty courtyards in perfect weather was a delight.

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Slowly I could feel the stress and strains of the past five years release from my body. I thought of  Hamada often, as I embraced Denia and of my new life as a single person now. Enjoying this pretty mostly unspoilt town that has retained much of  its Spanish charm with many places to stop for a cooling drink or little tapas. I enjoyed the best deep fried calamari’s (squid) I have ever tasted!

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Sitting under the vine leaves of a centre cafe complete with fountain and pretty shops to view. I thought back on the struggles of  many months past, knowing that I had done my best in everyway for my precious man and that he would have been so happy for me as I embraced a new life. There will be many sad times for me of that I am sure. For indeed he was my soul-mate but I am taking little steps and turning the pages slowly of this ‘new’ life…  I am a strong woman and I have “The Power Within” to survive  -Blessings  dear friends.

It Seems Forever and Yet… ( six months )

It seems forever since I looked into those eyes,  yet the memory of your face is as clear as the picture below. How can six months have past without you by my side? Sleep well beloved.

I see you in my dreams and know you dream of me,  just as you always promised – from the ‘box of secrets’

Sleep well beloved…

susiw and Hamada at Danies wedding

Six Months Anniversary.

Waiting for You.

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I seem to wait for you these days,
like longing for the sun to rise after a sleepless night.
When believing that the bright morning rays
that cast shadows across my floor,
will remove this need from my heart.
And still I wait.

 

I wait for you like the excited child before a birthday.
Eager and keen for the day to start
when all the surprises and fun will begin.
But you never come to bring these joys to me!
I know you can’t…I know you would… I know…

 

I’m still waiting for you when I look at the night sky
filled with twinkling jewels.
I look again for you as I enter the house alone.
I’m waiting to see those laughing eyes, black as coal-chips
and the smile that always took my breath away.
I’m waiting…

 

The tears fall as I write this and you would have been
so  mad,
mad with me for being sad – but I’m waiting to hear your
luscious voice once more.
I seem to wait a lot these days.

 

I know you can’t make it right.
I know you can’t…I know you would…I know…

 

All Rights Reserved. 2011.

Little Love Tokens.

Hamada Flowers 001

Every week or so I take a little pot plant to Hamada’s grave to garnish in a small way the resting place of my beloved. I will continue this until his memorial stone is in place. We still have time to wait for that, as it is important that the ground settles and becomes flat once more. I have been thinking about appropriate words and style, what a decision this will be for me. I know my close family will help me with this when the time comes. Hamada was buried when the snow was deep on the ground and this winter was one of the harshest in living memory, so the ground until recently has been solid and unyielding. As Hamada is buried within walking distance of my home I can visit whenever I choose.  I always choose to pass by his grave on my walks. I bend and pat the ground where he lays and then as an elderly gentleman told me to do, look up at the sky for a moment or two.  This I have found is comforting to me as I listen to the noisy calls of the rooks, high up in their huge bowls of twiggy nests. The birds cannot spoil this high place of rest with it’s spring bulbs  and tranquil setting.

I think often as I walk, of the lovely words from “The Autumn of Love” by Khalil Gibran, which give me peace and today I leave here  for my friends just a small extract for your pleasure.

“The sorrow of love sings.

The sorrow of knowledge speaks.

The sorrow of desire whispers.

And the sorrow of poverty weeps.

But there exists a sorrow deeper

than love, more noble than knowledge,

stronger than desire, and more bitter

than poverty.

This sorrow has no voice, it is dumb,

but its eyes glitter like the stars.

Khalil Gibran – From Love Letters in the Sand.

The Tree and The Hawk.

Hamada's Tree From Micheal Morse.

Hamada’s Tree in Rhode Island

The Special Ray Of Light 15.11 hrs 6.12.2010

“Hamada’s  Special Ray Of Light” here in the Village.

When I first started writing my “Poems of Love”  for Hamada I was amazed at the many who also seem to enjoy them and understood my reason for keeping a diary of these difficult days. One of the very first comments I ever received was from a wonderful gentleman Lt (now Captain) Michael Morse of Providence, Rhode Island.  Michael  as an Emergency Medical Technician in Providence, works in a team of very brave men and woman all willingly risking there lives every day, to help and save the community of Providence, dealing with drug overdoses, gunshot wounds, suicides and all manner of  medical emergencies that are all in a days work for them. These are extremely brave and courageous people working continuously in often very difficult conditions.

Five years ago in the early hours of  the morning, Michael was surfing the net and came across my little blog written here in this tiny village in the UK. During a quiet moment and a lull in calls he settled down to  read some of my poems. They seem to appeal to him, he wrote  on his blog and I quote:

“Susie’s poems hit home in so many ways. Heroes are all around us, fighting life and death battles, facing the fear of uncertainty yet still able to inspire others during the darkest days of their lives. People previously unknown to me and living on another continent are fighting with amazing grace, dignity and courage” and so this started the many comments and sincere praise that he often sent my way. He pointed out that he has never been very interested in poetry but mine tugged at his heart and he found himself becoming more interested in the story behind them.

Michael is a most compassionate man – he would not be doing the job he does tirelessly every day  if this was not so. He is a wonderful writer, logging as he does the daily problems and trials and tribulations of the work he does as a EMS/Fire-fighter on his wonderful blog www.rescuingprovidence.com    Michael’s comments encouraged me to continue writing the updates and poems that made Hamada’s Blog “A Power Within” http://www.susiehemingway.blogspot.com  the success it became.

So Michael followed Hamada’s blog and online through his comments, Michael and Hamada became good friends, a connection you could say.  Michael’s  very popular book “Rescuing Providence” was sent, read and enjoyed very much by Hamada. I would pass-on all the comments Michael wrote under my poems – somehow, someway, Michael gave Hamada more courage.

Continuing another extract shown here from Michaels blog, explains well this connection:

“One night, as I sat at my desk in a little office in a  fire station in a small city in the US, I opened my window to the world known as the Internet, and moved the little mouse over something called “Verve Earth”, and randomly zig-zagged  across the map of the world, wondering where I might stop. When I was a kid I used to go to the  globe, which for those who never saw one is a three dimensional orb which replicates Planet Earth, mounted on a holder of sorts that allows the earth to spin. I’d give it a good push, and lightly place my finger on the surface as it spun, and wherever it stopped, that’s  where I decided I would go. This night, it stopped in England, “in a beautiful village nestling by the river Bain in the heart of the Lincolnshire Wolds.”  There, I was introduced to Susie and Hamada, a happily married couple, living gracefully through the curse of Multiple Myeloma.  Through Susie’s poems I was allowed entry into the most astonishing love story ever written. The simple complexity of her words, full of pain but able to articulate enduring hope travelled an ocean, and opened a part of my heart that had been closed since 1990, when my father battled cancer and lost. The profound sadness I felt when I heard the news that Hamada had died literally crippled me. I never spoke to Hamada, nor heard him speak. I only knew him through the words his wife used to describe their life together, and his courage and dignity during his last few years. Yet I knew him. And I’m a better person because of it. I imagine Hamada will be laid to rest, “in this beautiful village nestling by the river Bain in the heart of the Lincolnshire Wolds.”  I imagine his friends and family will join the solemn occasion, and pay their respects, and mourn his loss. But here in my little place, back in my little office, watching the world through my window the sadness I felt has been replaced, and in its place something greater and timeless resides, and I have Susie and Hamada to thank, for without them, I would not have experienced “The Power Within”

Michael of the Giant Heart read my poems and never fail to send a comment or a good wish our way and as you have read, very saddened when Hamada’s journey came to an end. Now to the special  story of  “The Tree and The Hawk”

On the day we laid Hamada to rest  in this little country village in Middle England– this freezing cold Winters day when the ground was thick with snow and ice – and many had come to pay their respects to our  beloved warrior, at  approximately the same time on the other side of the  world, a very kind  and compassionate man was taking his regular walk  and passing a large old tree near to his home he watched a huge hawk flitting above him in the branches. As he approached this tree, the hawk suddenly stayed very still and appeared to look down at him. The hawk stayed this way for sometime, causing the man beneath to feel something most spiritual.  This man was Michael who was so move by this experience he felt the need to say his own goodbyes to Hamada.

Then once again on another day as Michael walked his usual route, at the very same spot he had said  goodbye to Hamada  he looked up, and the giant hawk again landed on a branch about thirty feet above him, in this old  tree. A flock of mockingbirds descended upon him, dive bombing and pestering him, but the bird refuse to move ( much like Hamada with his courage) and just sat there, and again  they looked at each other for nearly five minutes, again the spiritual feeling.

How I love this,another connection made. Hawks remind me of the wonderful Falcons of the desert and Hamada loved to watch them when we lived in the United Arab Emirates. Yes, a hawk is most suitable for my Hamada who just  may have been paying his respects to this kind and compassionate man who befriended him  during the many months of  his courageous fight with the wretched illness that is Multiple Myeloma. Two good men making a connection through this modern world of ours. Miles apart, never having met, never having spoken, but a connection for sure.   Thanks Mike.

All Rights Reserved: 2011

“Ray of Light Photo” Courtesy of Janey Johnson Photos.

“Thinking of You”

 

Tawlah

Like all the days before.
And all the days that come.
I am thinking of you.
Where are those dark eyes of my pleasure?
The warm gentle smile, our kisses.
I can hear you, I can smell you.
I have so much to tell you.

 

The clearest visions in my mind,
are of your beautiful hands.
Shuffling the cards or counters of “tawlah”
I miss our games! I miss so much
your calm movements, your voice,
your love…
I feel your presence but cannot find you.
The world is going crazy, do you know of that?
I wonder what you would  have said?

 

I know you would be proud of me.
You always were.
Everyone says I’m doing well.
Doing all you told me to do.
Perhaps I need more practice
I always needed more practice!
Remember? (smile)
I don’t need to shut my eyes to see you.
Your presence is always here.
In that place I carry around with me.

 

Do you know its almost three months
I’m thinking of you today
Like every day.
                                      I’m thinking of you…

 

All Rights Reserved.

A Snow Covered Village In December.

Hamada's flowers Dec 6th 2010

AS the snow lay heavily across this perfect land. Temperatures plummeted to an all time low. Lanes were covered thickly with snow and packed ice. Branches weighed heavily with icicles as though they wept their perfect tears along with our sorrow. Important paths were cleared by a team of willing men as brilliant sunshine played and danced on crystal ‘water-diamonds’ studded on pasture lands.

We stood on that first day to receive this special man. Tightly together, our breath pluming feather like, into the crisp harsh air. All his dear ones so close, each with their own special memories of  this much loved, dignified and courageous man.

The first evening brought many to pay respects, travelling the length of the UK  to this beautiful little place on Gods earth. Staying in guests cottages on farms and in nearby bed and breakfasts houses. Filling with love as they arrived, the empty space in my heart. Each bringing their quiet thoughts and memories along to ‘celebrate’ this good mans life.  We chatted and yes, we laughed into the evening , talking of fun times together just as if this beloved man was still sitting with us. We spoke of special dates, birthday, holidays, fun times at the beach, love filled that evening reception. The cosy warm rooms with food aplenty also warmed our hearts .

The day arrived for our final goodbyes.  Limousines were prepared, large shiny ‘ rooks of travel’  deliciously comfortable, mine  with a thoughtful small crystal glass of  brandy resting in holder to ward off the bitter cold. Nothing had been missed… nothing left to chance…

My mind seemed detached and yet clear ‘picture memories’ that will remain forever with me began to etched on my mind. My dearest daughter-in law thoughtfully bringing to my bedroom a soft linen handkerchief, the hugs of my two stalwart sons who seemed to be taking care of everything. I remember clearly a vision of my youngest son Jo bending to adjust  tenderly the tie of my Grandson Manu, resplendent in perfect little black suit, his sad dear  face and the hugs he gave me so often during the day, will never leave my heart. The Bells tolled across the village, calling all to this resting place.

The oh! so slow drive, carefully negotiated on ice covered lanes, the congregation filling the church, the prayers, the many readings, the just beautiful strains of  chosen music and hymns.  The overwhelming smell of  lilies and eucalyptus covering the casket,  brought tears to my eyes.

The guidance of our dear Reverend Avril, her clear voice fully in charge of proceedings but tear- filled eyes gave away this confident stance. The Stunning photo of Hamada, that our dear niece Ellie had skilfully had enlarged and had  propped against a tall glass vase of  more triumphant  white lilies for all to be able to see,our handsome man.

The splashes of mauve coloured scarves and beautiful arrangements of flowers lovingly prepared with special care caught my eye. The pink cheeks of my sisters who’s eyes showed such deep sorrow. Their dear husbands grieving for the loss of their much loved brother.

My body shook with grief as I heard the first rendering, the beautiful  Hymn “Abide With Me” the  clear delightful voice of Katherine Jenkins filling the air.Two strong hands from either side covered mine, it was enough.

Tears fell to the strains of “Ai giocco addio” from Romeo and Juliet the powerful voice of Luciano Pavorotti echoing against  the strong stone walls of this tiny ancient place, such a favourite of ours and played so often in our home.

The pride I felt at the words of  the five tributes, each perfectly clear and delivered with such compassion, each telling their own poignant story.

The words of the Eulogy read in perfect tones by my eldest Son Matt, containing only words that God could have guided his hand to write.  Telling  the most perfectly unique and complete story of our beloved Hamada. “ The days run away like wild horses over the hills”   continued to tell so much of  this dear mans life and then to finish his reading  with Khalil Gibran “The Springtime Of Love”  a poem found marked in one of  Hamada’s books. I shall keep Matt’s wonderful words safely by me for the rest of my days, they were so beautiful.

The village elder speaking in reply, with such love, support and total tenderness taking our breath away with his sincerity, and perfectly clear and powerful words of kindness his skilful reading of the ancient Psalm 23 .

The tears from everyone, as we gathered closely together and all sang along with Elton John “ Can You Feel The Love Tonight”

Some so moved that the words could not come, as the love surrounded and filled this tiny place. My dear girl friend’s face so wet, with such huge tears of sadness.

We sat in silence as Ray Lamontagne’s  beautiful guitar rift “ Truly, Madly, Deeply” gently filled our hearts.

The final:  Ray Lamontagne’s“ All The Wild Horses” completed this long farewell as everyone stood in honour.

SO many things I will remember from that God given day that allowed us to say our goodbyes,  to a perfect and much love gentleman. Youngest son Jo reciting a “Surah” in Arabic, his strong deep voice so much like his Father’s, clear in the bitter sun-filled air.

The family standing in resplendent smartness on crisp white snow as they threw their white roses of peace the long way down,  then the men – including our beloved Grandson – with hands full of dust  “dust to dust, ashes to ashes” never have I felt such love, love that surrounded these two days. Days that will never ever fade from my memory.

“May God bless you my Habibi and grant unto you eternal peace forever Amen”.

 

Photo of Lilies,cream roses,eucalyptus and banana leaves taken by Janey Johnson with thanks.

All Rights Reserved.

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