Breathing Fire

I am beathing fire, like my dragon Chinese star sign. I have taken the step of creating this blogsite. I am not sure it is a wise move, but it has been on my mind for some weeks now.

I have been spurred on by reading the wonderful work of Rachel North http://www.rachelnorthlondon.blogspot.com/ whom I have had the pleasure of meeting. I am quite technically inadequate so this is quite scary!!! I think I have control over what goes in here but am not fully convinced I will not make a huge cockup and you will all be able to read my mind or see my bank account, (Much good will it do you!!! There is no money in the account and you will not emerge for weeks, even years in you sink into the soakhole of my mind!! So read on at your own risk.!)

How I came to meet Rachel is, in itself a story of actions and words. Rachel was on the tube on 7/7/2005. So was my daughter Shelley. Shelley died as a result of the "actions" of the bloody-minded and murderously intentioned bombers. I guess they thought they would teach us all a lesson, of what nature, I am not sure.

What I have experienced since Shelley's murder has been the beauty of words and the beauty of actions. I have been overwhelmed by the huge outpouring of love and support worldwide. In her lifetime Shelley had an impact on many people here in NZ and around the world. That so many of these poeple still take the time to text me or email is absolutely a tribute to their good souls and to Shelley's ability to be a wonderful friend, colleague and citizen of the world. Shelley's friends worldwide contributed to a beautiful memorial park bench in Russell Square.

So if you happen to be in London and walking through Russell Square - maybe you will choose to stop and visit awhile with Shelley. The park bench is on the side by the Night n Day bar, a frequent and happy hangout of Shelley and her friends, and I too was a frequent visitor on both excursions to London.

I have used written words when unable to speak of the depths of my sorrow and grief. I have turned those words into a book in honour of Shelley called, "Dear Shelley". http://www.womensbookshop.co.nz/ There is also some further information on the website Shelley's dad set up, http://www.shelleymariemather.com/

The poems are the story or my journey to London in July 2005 with Shelley's dad, to find our darling baby. To bring her home. It is the story of the amazing people we met and the love and strength we have all drawn from each other. It is a tribute to my partner, sons and extended family, friends and strangers who took the time to send "words" of love and support.

I have felt further driven to start a blog as the 2nd anniversay of the 7/7 bombings nears. We returned last year for the first anniversary services but will not be there this year until September. At the time of the bombings the news was huge in NZ. Shelley was the only NZ'er to die. The press were hungry for her name, before we were ready to give it. Last year there was some interest and my return journey and reading of one of my poems "The Moon" , at Regent's Park was covered by press and TV.

Time is a funny thing. There have been many more sad stories, more murders of NZ'ers at home by family members and strangers and abroad by random people. I know we are only one family with one death but each family's death is horriffic and always uppermost to them. So you could excuse my initial interest yesterday when I spotted the following headline in the national Sunday paper - "07-07-07 Auspicious date ", that's where my eyes stopped. The rest of the headline was - "booked out for weddings". The story was about the disproportionate number of people opting to get married on this date which apparently has some mathematical good luck charm to it.

Well excuse me and the other 51 familes and 700 survivors who might find this somewhat ironic.

But hey, the world moves on as do we all. Just differently I guess. I sincerely hope it is a good luck date for the soon to be newlyweds. I know for me and hundreds of other people it is a date that will not be forgotten for a different reason.Words make it or break it I guess. The hunger of the press for the word, for the insight into the pain and the grief followed now, two years later, by a deafening silence. By finding another relevance to that date.

And hey, I used to be funny so I will promise not be depressive all the time.

It's true, I used to be funny. In May 2005 I was in the semi-finals for the Auckland-wide search for new standup comedy talent. One of the last messages I got from Shelley after she heard of this great feat, was a voicemail message on my phone saying, "I always knew you were a funny mummy." That is so loaded and open to intepretation and I just laughed for about half an hour. That's what we did. Shelley and me. We laughed, we cried, we locked horns occasionally but most of all we loved. We loved the madness of our family, her family.

So if you have happened upon this site, welcome to the ravings of a mad woman. I wish you well and you can be sure of occassional thoughts from the Southern Hemisphere on any number of topics.

For a first post....maybe it's not too bad!! So I shall push the Publish button..yikes!!

Arohanui

KG