Woke in tears this morning after a vivid dream, not a horrible dream, but one that centred on the hard core of grief that is so often hidden. I had to just go with the feeling of neverending sadness. I miss Shelley every day, and today this has just hit me like a hammer in the head and heart, again.
Getting myself together and settling to read the Herald, and come across a tiny article which again hits me over the head and makes my stomach churn.
Kenyan Police are seeking the widow of 7/7 bomber, Jermain Lindsay, who murdered Shelley, on 7/7 2005. She is apparently linked to a terrorist cell planning an attack in Kenya. She is travelling with her three children and has stolen the identity of a Natalie Webb, a totally innocent British citizen.
So far fabulous!!
The following extract is from The Telegraph which explains the jist of it.
“She(Samantha Lewthwaite alias Natalie Webb) is suspected of having links to a terrorist cell planning an attack in Kenya after their troops crossed the border to fight al-Shabaab, an al-Qaeda-linked group in Somalia.
The militant group al-Shabaab, which is currently engaged in a guerrilla war against Kenyan security forces in Somalia and has links to al-Qaeda, is believed to be behind the cell. Up to 40 Britons are fighting with al-Shabaab.
"I can give no details, but suffice it to say that we believe she is not a small fish,” a senior police source in Nairobi. “She is among several Britons that our intelligence service is aware of in relation to terrorists' plans to attack us."
Kenyan police claimed to be closing in on the woman at that stage but she has so far evaded capture.”
I am further outraged at the stupidity of the world and this person in particular. In 2005 she had expressed her abhorance at the action’s of her husband, and claimed he his mind had been poisened by radicals. I managed to feel some compassion for her own loss, though I was pleased that he did not survive.
Today, I am just outraged. Knowing that I cannot change such things, or such fucked up thinking I choose simply to express myself in writing.
I reflect on what has become my motto, a quote from Joan Baez
“I would say that I’m a non-violent soldier.
In place of weapons of violence,
you have to use your mind, your heart,
your sense of humour;
every faculty available to you because
NO ONE HAS THE RIGHT TO TAKE THE LIFE
OF ANOTHER HUMAN BEING.”
If by any chance, she, the budding terrorist, mother of three, widow of one, should read this, well then, take that!! And this….Stop pause and disengage.
Hasn’t your family caused enough death and destruction at the hands of your husband? Aren’t 26 murders enough to have on your hands, which were not so innocent or oblivious as you led us all to believe? In fact 52 deaths resulted from his plotting with his mates but he himself murdered 26 of that number.
There is evil and there is evil. Evil in the name of a god is the purest and most common form of evil. This is pure evil.
I am stepping into the light, leaving this behind. It will be what it will be.I am off to the movies with my HB and FBS.
Kia kaha,
K
1/03/2012
27/01/2012
Shelley's Birthday
Today is our darling Shelley’s birthday. She would have been 33years old.
Heartbeat
My heart is broken
never to be repaired
you can live
with a broken heart
(a different type of living)
today, I will take all the joy
Shelley brought into our lives
and hold it close
as I hold her close
every day
Love always and forever
from all your family,
KG
XX
Heartbeat
My heart is broken
never to be repaired
you can live
with a broken heart
(a different type of living)
today, I will take all the joy
Shelley brought into our lives
and hold it close
as I hold her close
every day
Love always and forever
from all your family,
KG
XX
7/07/2010
7/7 Fifth Anniversary
Today is the fifth anniversary of the 7/7 London bombings. At approximately 0850 hrs 52 people were murdered, including my daughter, Shelley Marie Mather, and over 700 injured. I place these words for her and all the families of all the victims.
Arohanui
Kia kaha
KG
XX
WE WILL NEVER FORGET AND HOLD YOU IN OUR HEARTS
EVERY DAY
TIME HEALS
(so they say)
five years on
the sun rises and sets
the moon stands guard
watching over us
the daily grind goes on
they say
time heals
this bears no resemblance
to my reality
a chaplin said
it will get better with time
bollocks
these words are like staples
into the soft tissue of my brain
they jolt and scar
shoot like poisons
into the open wounds of my heart
fly like vultures
into the cavernous ravines
of my soul
each second, each hour
each day, month and year
is simply a marker
of your absence in my life
of your senseless murder
of my utter despair
Arohanui
Kia kaha
KG
XX
25/12/2009
Annie Lennox fingernail MOON
In honour of all our loved ones. Nothing I could say would be as good as this amazing song. Long reign the moon and Annie Lennox!!! Much love, KG XX
9/12/2009
CATS RULE THE ROOST!!
CATS AND DOGS
mind shift
to the point
of contemplating
having a pet
the never again
having been slowly
wittled away
by the empty spaces
we have experimented
with dogs
having them as visitors
or house guests even
but deep down
we are cat people
catwomen
Misty and Sparkey
took some of our hearts
but maybe
just maybe
there are two kittens
looking to live
with us
As of last Saturday, the two kittens below live with us. Our resistance finally worn away, we
have opened ourselves up to the disarray and joy of having pets again.
SMUDGE on the left, and his brother SOOTY on the right, came to us from a dear friend at work.
YAY!!
Arohanui
KG
XX
mind shift
to the point
of contemplating
having a pet
the never again
having been slowly
wittled away
by the empty spaces
we have experimented
with dogs
having them as visitors
or house guests even
but deep down
we are cat people
catwomen
Misty and Sparkey
took some of our hearts
but maybe
just maybe
there are two kittens
looking to live
with us
As of last Saturday, the two kittens below live with us. Our resistance finally worn away, we
have opened ourselves up to the disarray and joy of having pets again.
SMUDGE on the left, and his brother SOOTY on the right, came to us from a dear friend at work.
YAY!!
Arohanui
XX
27/11/2009
To be or not to be....a recluse?
That is indeed the question of the moment. My HB & I have just come back from four days at my big sister’s place at Amberly Beach. There are only about 80 houses
there and a wonderful wild and stony beach that stretches all the way back to Christchurch on one end and the outlying peninsula on the other.
Each morning I went down to the beach for a walk along the stony beach, then over the road to walk back through the marshland walkway and pine forest. Each day, I was the only person on the beach. For that time it was my beach, alone.
It was magnificent. Such solitude speaks to my soul and my heart. Nature seeps into places that I avoid, most of the time - the deep pockets of grief and anger that bubble away all of the time, like a dormant volcano. I find I can’t hide, when confronted by nature on the scale of such a wild and deserted beach. It becomes a journey of it’s own. At first I peek into the abyss, then find I am able to take a step forward, to feel the roughness of the stones, the cold wet of the sea. My emotions and thoughts walk step in step with this process of nature and take me to a place of insight and strength. A clarity of thought which again gives me back my voice, well at least my ability to write. My written words are my power. I have returned energized and focused on my writing.
Day one at home: a morning walk in Auckland, sucking in the carbon dioxide emissions from passing cars, and walking up a hill so that I can get at least some sense of expansion. A glimpse of the city-scape. I can see the sky tower, (who can’t!), the monument on one tree hill and a bit of the sea. It is not the same but I focus on being appreciative of what it has to offer, of my place, our haven home, in this landscape.
A trip to the movies, still maintaining the sense of calm and focus, until some idiot (and I am being kind here!) screams into the back of our car while we are stopped at a red light. He works for an insurance company ha ha!!
Two days on: My darling little car, which I love, may cost more to repair than it is worth. I am still waiting on the final verdict from the assessor. I will be devastated if it is not salvageable, after all how much can it cost to fix a caved in boot and two sets of lights sticking out like floppy dog ears? I will have to wait and see.
I had to venture into the city, Auckland city itself this afternoon. Back into the hustle and bustle, of the full of traffic with fuckwits and idiots everywhere. I worked even harder to maintain my sense of calmness in the face of all of this and while driving the complete pile of shit POS, that is the courtesy car from the panel beaters. It was so courteous that it allowed me to put air in the tyres, which were nearly all flat, brush the cobweb off the side mirror and clean the windscreen. It has a red light, he said, that will come on, on the dash. I am not to worry about it, just ignore it. I didn’t tell him I was Ms ultra calm at the moment, so that’s what I will do – ignore it. He did tell me if anything happened to it while I had it, this pile of shit, that there was $750 excess!! Now that is funny. If I was a pessimist and not so calm, I would not even take it out of driveway. Then again I don’t wish to push my luck, maybe I will wait for the call from the assessor before I venture out in the POS again.
At the end of this second day home, the recluse debate is still just that. We could, my HB and I, run away to the Beach, even to that particular Beach. We could live quite comfortably in a small batch/crib and manage our income to suit this change. There would be some costs greater than here, like heating in the middle of winter. They even had snow at the beach last year. But it would be running away and I think a temporary reprieve. I think instead, I/we will continue to at least dip our toes into the big city life. It is after all where my darling FBS, SBS & his SH dwell. It is where we have a tight and loving group of amazing friends, our second whanau. There are many things yet to evolve in the lives of my loved ones and I like being in the same city at least. That’s how it is at present.
Three days on: Good news, my car is fixable!! Yay!
I am venturing out to the plant shop shortly and will come back and spend some time in the spring sun which is shining brightly today. There are also two pairs of Tuis who sing their beautiful solitary, three note call to each other. It is magnificent and it is all in my own back yard. Yay again!
Second piece of good news: My gardening efforts were rewarded by the finding of a special ring I lost three weeks ago, gardening!! It was my last task for the day transplanting a lavender shrub, as I struggled to get its unwieldy shape into the container, I looked down and there it was. The ring, restored now to its rightful finger. Yay again.!!
Arohanui
KG
XX
there and a wonderful wild and stony beach that stretches all the way back to Christchurch on one end and the outlying peninsula on the other.
Each morning I went down to the beach for a walk along the stony beach, then over the road to walk back through the marshland walkway and pine forest. Each day, I was the only person on the beach. For that time it was my beach, alone.
It was magnificent. Such solitude speaks to my soul and my heart. Nature seeps into places that I avoid, most of the time - the deep pockets of grief and anger that bubble away all of the time, like a dormant volcano. I find I can’t hide, when confronted by nature on the scale of such a wild and deserted beach. It becomes a journey of it’s own. At first I peek into the abyss, then find I am able to take a step forward, to feel the roughness of the stones, the cold wet of the sea. My emotions and thoughts walk step in step with this process of nature and take me to a place of insight and strength. A clarity of thought which again gives me back my voice, well at least my ability to write. My written words are my power. I have returned energized and focused on my writing.
Day one at home: a morning walk in Auckland, sucking in the carbon dioxide emissions from passing cars, and walking up a hill so that I can get at least some sense of expansion. A glimpse of the city-scape. I can see the sky tower, (who can’t!), the monument on one tree hill and a bit of the sea. It is not the same but I focus on being appreciative of what it has to offer, of my place, our haven home, in this landscape.
A trip to the movies, still maintaining the sense of calm and focus, until some idiot (and I am being kind here!) screams into the back of our car while we are stopped at a red light. He works for an insurance company ha ha!!
Two days on: My darling little car, which I love, may cost more to repair than it is worth. I am still waiting on the final verdict from the assessor. I will be devastated if it is not salvageable, after all how much can it cost to fix a caved in boot and two sets of lights sticking out like floppy dog ears? I will have to wait and see.
I had to venture into the city, Auckland city itself this afternoon. Back into the hustle and bustle, of the full of traffic with fuckwits and idiots everywhere. I worked even harder to maintain my sense of calmness in the face of all of this and while driving the complete pile of shit POS, that is the courtesy car from the panel beaters. It was so courteous that it allowed me to put air in the tyres, which were nearly all flat, brush the cobweb off the side mirror and clean the windscreen. It has a red light, he said, that will come on, on the dash. I am not to worry about it, just ignore it. I didn’t tell him I was Ms ultra calm at the moment, so that’s what I will do – ignore it. He did tell me if anything happened to it while I had it, this pile of shit, that there was $750 excess!! Now that is funny. If I was a pessimist and not so calm, I would not even take it out of driveway. Then again I don’t wish to push my luck, maybe I will wait for the call from the assessor before I venture out in the POS again.
At the end of this second day home, the recluse debate is still just that. We could, my HB and I, run away to the Beach, even to that particular Beach. We could live quite comfortably in a small batch/crib and manage our income to suit this change. There would be some costs greater than here, like heating in the middle of winter. They even had snow at the beach last year. But it would be running away and I think a temporary reprieve. I think instead, I/we will continue to at least dip our toes into the big city life. It is after all where my darling FBS, SBS & his SH dwell. It is where we have a tight and loving group of amazing friends, our second whanau. There are many things yet to evolve in the lives of my loved ones and I like being in the same city at least. That’s how it is at present.
Three days on: Good news, my car is fixable!! Yay!
I am venturing out to the plant shop shortly and will come back and spend some time in the spring sun which is shining brightly today. There are also two pairs of Tuis who sing their beautiful solitary, three note call to each other. It is magnificent and it is all in my own back yard. Yay again!
Second piece of good news: My gardening efforts were rewarded by the finding of a special ring I lost three weeks ago, gardening!! It was my last task for the day transplanting a lavender shrub, as I struggled to get its unwieldy shape into the container, I looked down and there it was. The ring, restored now to its rightful finger. Yay again.!!
Arohanui
KG
XX
28/09/2009
7/7 Conspiracy Theorists
Here it is September already. The year has flown by at a great rate. Winter is on the turn and hints of spring flash out from the blossom trees in the street, the roses starting to bud and best of all, our avocado tree is flowering!!
The tree was a present from SBS & his SH, the first Christmas we spent in this, our new home. He said it took at least 7 years to bear fruit and that meant we had to stay here, for at least that long. It is a slow process, tree growing. He need have no fear that we would move; this home is it for us. There will not be another move.
FBS, SBS & his SH and her dog, have moved in together into a lovely old villa in Central Auckland. It is a great home for them, plenty of room and good grounds for the dog to run around. It is also within walking distance to all their places of work. I can now pop in and see all of them at once, and it makes catching up that much easier. We all work shift work and it is a matter of some planning for us all to be in the same place at the same time, but it sure is worth it.
I have been thinking, as I frequently do, of the process of grief. I watched the 9/11 programme that held the voice messages of loved ones to their families. These were grueling to listen too as most of them knew they would not make it. The protocols of the dying and of those left behind, means that there is no preferable way to come to the end of a loving relationship. Many of those who spoke, took comfort from hearing the voice of their loved one. For me, it was the panic of unanswered messages to her cell phone, of hearing her voice on the recorded message, saying, to leave a message and she would get back to me. She never did of course, and that was the point that it really sank in, that I might never hear from her again.
I kept ringing her cell phone, even after we had returned to Auckland, just to hear her voice. I am not sure where her phone was, maybe in amongst the thousand of items collected by the police investigators; I don’t know. I just know that I rang it and she spoke. I knew it would end sometime, but it was horrific when I rang it maybe some 6 months after the event, and got the standard message that this number is either out of range or no longer available.
Update 28/09: Last night on the “Sunday” programme they ran a story about the 7/7 Conspiracy theorists. These are people who firmly believe that the 7/7 bombings were undertaking by the British Government. The story they ran was from a British documentary, which we knew had screened prior to7/7 this year. It was not available over here at the time and it was sheer chance that we happened to catch it on TV last night, one of the benefits of channel surfing I guess.
I have to say my blood was boiling through most of the programme. It wasn’t until the final segment, when they exposed the stupidity of the conspiraloons that I managed to calm down. These people are complete nutters with an agenda of proving themselves right. They don’t have all the information and are not directly involved in the situation. They are driven by some kind of desire to show that governments lie and deceive all the time and their own egomaniacal personalities.
Personally I find their actions despicable. They don’t care about the dead and injured from such events. They don’t care about logic or facts. They embarked on an active hate and threat campaign against Rachel North, one of the most amazing young women I have met in my life. She was also on the programme and as usual, spoke with a voice of reason.
Perhaps the most worrying effect of these fuckwits, is that the Muslim community in London, or should I say some of the Muslim community, believe everything they say. This may of course have to do with such crap putting them in the role of victim as opposed to aggressors. It was horrifying to hear a Muslim leader at the Birmingham Mosque say the things that he did say.
From the minute Shelley’s Dad and I set foot in London on 9/9/2005, we were briefed by the head of the security services. We had frequent meetings with them over this time. These men were devastated by this act of terror and there is no way they would have been able to be as they were, if they had been party to this act of terror.
On my return to London on the first anniversary, my HB & I meet with the same officials at Scotland Yard. They showed us information that is not generally available to the wider public, and were also still restrained by what they could reveal to us, due to the upcoming trials relating to 7/7.
One of the stories the conspiraloons keep saying is that the bombs were underneath the trains and the 4 Muslim men were patsies, set up by the secret service. Don’t ask me how.
I saw photographic evidence of the impact of the bombs. The belief that the explosion was underneath the carriage is based on the fact the floor of the carriage appeared to have exploded upwards and inwards. The facts are, the bombs were exploded on the trains, by these young men. Due to the location of the Kings Cross train, at the time, the bomb exploded internally then due to the confined space, a secondary blast occurred as the fallout had no where else to go. For these fuckwits to keep opening their mouths with such drivel is not only extremely disrespectful but also shows them to be more idiotic than we already know them to be.
The survivors and the forensic investigations have pieced together the real story of the 7/7 bombings. Those who need to know, know the facts. Nothing anyone else can say will change these truths. It would be great if these idiots just shut the fuck up and let those involved try to keep on building their lives, as best they can.
Kia kaha,
KGX
The tree was a present from SBS & his SH, the first Christmas we spent in this, our new home. He said it took at least 7 years to bear fruit and that meant we had to stay here, for at least that long. It is a slow process, tree growing. He need have no fear that we would move; this home is it for us. There will not be another move.
FBS, SBS & his SH and her dog, have moved in together into a lovely old villa in Central Auckland. It is a great home for them, plenty of room and good grounds for the dog to run around. It is also within walking distance to all their places of work. I can now pop in and see all of them at once, and it makes catching up that much easier. We all work shift work and it is a matter of some planning for us all to be in the same place at the same time, but it sure is worth it.
I have been thinking, as I frequently do, of the process of grief. I watched the 9/11 programme that held the voice messages of loved ones to their families. These were grueling to listen too as most of them knew they would not make it. The protocols of the dying and of those left behind, means that there is no preferable way to come to the end of a loving relationship. Many of those who spoke, took comfort from hearing the voice of their loved one. For me, it was the panic of unanswered messages to her cell phone, of hearing her voice on the recorded message, saying, to leave a message and she would get back to me. She never did of course, and that was the point that it really sank in, that I might never hear from her again.
I kept ringing her cell phone, even after we had returned to Auckland, just to hear her voice. I am not sure where her phone was, maybe in amongst the thousand of items collected by the police investigators; I don’t know. I just know that I rang it and she spoke. I knew it would end sometime, but it was horrific when I rang it maybe some 6 months after the event, and got the standard message that this number is either out of range or no longer available.
Update 28/09: Last night on the “Sunday” programme they ran a story about the 7/7 Conspiracy theorists. These are people who firmly believe that the 7/7 bombings were undertaking by the British Government. The story they ran was from a British documentary, which we knew had screened prior to7/7 this year. It was not available over here at the time and it was sheer chance that we happened to catch it on TV last night, one of the benefits of channel surfing I guess.
I have to say my blood was boiling through most of the programme. It wasn’t until the final segment, when they exposed the stupidity of the conspiraloons that I managed to calm down. These people are complete nutters with an agenda of proving themselves right. They don’t have all the information and are not directly involved in the situation. They are driven by some kind of desire to show that governments lie and deceive all the time and their own egomaniacal personalities.
Personally I find their actions despicable. They don’t care about the dead and injured from such events. They don’t care about logic or facts. They embarked on an active hate and threat campaign against Rachel North, one of the most amazing young women I have met in my life. She was also on the programme and as usual, spoke with a voice of reason.
Perhaps the most worrying effect of these fuckwits, is that the Muslim community in London, or should I say some of the Muslim community, believe everything they say. This may of course have to do with such crap putting them in the role of victim as opposed to aggressors. It was horrifying to hear a Muslim leader at the Birmingham Mosque say the things that he did say.
From the minute Shelley’s Dad and I set foot in London on 9/9/2005, we were briefed by the head of the security services. We had frequent meetings with them over this time. These men were devastated by this act of terror and there is no way they would have been able to be as they were, if they had been party to this act of terror.
On my return to London on the first anniversary, my HB & I meet with the same officials at Scotland Yard. They showed us information that is not generally available to the wider public, and were also still restrained by what they could reveal to us, due to the upcoming trials relating to 7/7.
One of the stories the conspiraloons keep saying is that the bombs were underneath the trains and the 4 Muslim men were patsies, set up by the secret service. Don’t ask me how.
I saw photographic evidence of the impact of the bombs. The belief that the explosion was underneath the carriage is based on the fact the floor of the carriage appeared to have exploded upwards and inwards. The facts are, the bombs were exploded on the trains, by these young men. Due to the location of the Kings Cross train, at the time, the bomb exploded internally then due to the confined space, a secondary blast occurred as the fallout had no where else to go. For these fuckwits to keep opening their mouths with such drivel is not only extremely disrespectful but also shows them to be more idiotic than we already know them to be.
The survivors and the forensic investigations have pieced together the real story of the 7/7 bombings. Those who need to know, know the facts. Nothing anyone else can say will change these truths. It would be great if these idiots just shut the fuck up and let those involved try to keep on building their lives, as best they can.
Kia kaha,
KGX
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