Cherished.

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For a while now, I have been missing my childhood and school friends, weren’t those the days? ☺️
Except I now feel the need to make you smile instead, by simply letting you know that I too miss you and love you – as friends. 😜
If it’s a one way street, that’s ok too, just know that I care, regardless.
Thank YOU, for always accepting me for who I am.
For sharing / making some of those cherished memories with me.
Thank YOU, to old friends and new,, for remaining besides me, for continuing to be there still.
Thank YOU also, for being one of the reasons why I smile.

💖

~ SJ (Sara Jae)

A Whole New Definition.

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Seeing people’s reactions as they learn when the baby was born is by far, amusing.

The best so far has to be my GP’s, who was surprised and said “Gosh! 😳 That puts a whole new definition on Christmas Day!”

The look on the postman’s face as he found out when the baby was born was absolutely priceless! His jaw dropped and said “No way?!” I’m like, “Yes way!” 😝

“What a day to be born on!” as a friend exclaimed.

To be continued, of course…

~ SJ (Sara Jae)

Like Mother, Like Daughter.

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I was watching the new Yorkshire Vet programme with my daughter. When the Narrator goes, “…. has a farm…. And on that farm they have a donkey….”

Daughter and I both look at one another, we simultaneously said “A-ee-i-o!”

Cue our laughter. 🙂 🙂 🙂

She has been taught well?!

😛 😛 😛

~ SJ (Sara Jae)

Whoopsie!

My kids were bought a small pot each of “Whoopee Putty” by their Nana – a very simple thing which has given them the giggles. Thanks muchly Mother!

If only my children knew I once had a whoopee cushion… And that I played a trick on my father in law. Yes… You read that right, father in law.

Extremely brave, I know.

Their living room was full of siblings, aunts, cousins but not the father. So… We waited until the perfect moment, for his father to return and just before he sat down, the whoopee cushion was then discreetly positioned.

Phhhwwwwaaarrrrttttt!

He shot back up again in shock!

And oh my days…

The rest of us were howling with laughter and crying from the pains of laughing….

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One of my favourite memories indeed. ❤️

Laughter, is the best medicine….

~ SJ (Sara Jae)

Tears Of Strength

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“People cry, not because they’re weak. It’s because they’ve been strong for too long.”

~ Johnny Depp.

Even the strongest people inevitably crack a little with time. In having to be strong for others whilst trying to remain strong for my own sake is proving to be a challenge yet again. I thought I was doing rather well until such reminders started to revive the heartache, the memories and the love once more.

It is okay, to cry. It does after all, clean our tear ducts out! 🙂

In addition, it releases the built up pressure that little bit more.

I often tell my friends, (strangers also) whenever I recognize their struggles, that I am such a good listener that I now have to wear hearing aids. This always makes them smile and perhaps even, laugh. Job done? 🙂

I hope, with time, someone will be able to take my pain away but until then, I shall continue to be here and there, just for you.

~ SJ (Sara Jae)

 

You’re Not Alone!

Lonely

When I first saw this, I just had to laugh for it reminded me of all the times I would text my hearing friends in the very early hours of the morning, saying “Wakey, Wakey! 😛 :-P”

Or text them numerous times just to make their phones vibrate / beep more than it should.

The smile in my heart is a mischievous one 😛

~ SJ (Sara Jae)

Eeh Bah Gum!

Ever since I knocked on death’s door the very first time several years ago, I became ultra-aware of life itself, cherishing each little smile, touch, taste, smell and sight. In complete awe at the miracles of Nature’s designs, always.

Upon realising the fragility of life, and the stark reality of the dangers that exist all around us – it has not been an easy ride. Being extra conscious of conflicts and trivialities, my heart longs for peace and love while my head wants to drown out the cacophonies of life.

Life is precious and extremely short. I cannot put into words just how short it can be unless you realise in such a moment, suddenly understanding what it means.

Due to the nature of the operation, I had and why, I know I will one day need another operation and that time is slowly but surely, approaching. Putting off going to the doctors will not help but delay and prolong any fears of another drawn out nightmare that I do not wish to put others or myself through again.so courage will have to come into play once more.

Soon because first, I am going to create another memorable moment for the kids to cherish, by introducing them to the Angel of the North, first spreading her wings in 1998, rising some 20 metres from the earth, dominating the skyline and majestically dwarfing all those who pay her a visit. It is an experience, they will not forget.

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Eeh bah gum indeed…

🙂

~ SJ (Sara Jae)

Candles In The Wind…

I joined a group the other day that was set up in dedication due to a family’s untimely loss, with great sadness upon learning this particular news. As a result, I needed several days to gather my emotions and thoughts before I could source the strength to apologise for any delay in paying my respects towards one’s memory and all those who loved and knew her.

It is extremely painful always, to realise what has happened to a family be it young or old, which explains the delay in paying my respects as I know from my own experience, just how fragile life can be and how important a mother, a wife, a daughter, a sister is. If it were not for the NHS, my children, my husband, my parents and my sister would not still be graced with the pleasure of my company today.

Yet to see how one’s memory can still live on, in every one’s hearts and words of kindness is simply rendering me speechless and in contemplation as to what it could have been like for my loved ones, to miss me.

Life is way too short sometimes for we are all candles in the wind. Carpe diem indeed

Group hug?! 🙂

Keep on smiling for it is free and does wonders xx

~ SJ (Sara Jae)

There’s No Place Like Home…

Oftentimes, I wonder where one’s home is because I have questioned myself if somewhere can really be ‘home’? As I was sent away to boarding school, ten going onto eleven years old, I lost that vital ‘homely’ and ‘family’ sense. Moreover, I do not really like to complain because…

Some people or children I dread to think do not even have a home. People here in the UK and elsewhere can be so ungrateful and inexplicably arrogant; they have a roof over their heads and free medical care. They concern themselves with having the best garment or the latest gadget when an older child overseas could be going without food for days at a time so their younger sibling does not – Their parents having passed away. It is children like them who you need to pay your respects to and be mindful of, not some sociopath looking to gain popularity to feed their ego and vanity.

Unfortunately, there is a level of such hypocrisy and ignorance amongst us also. There was a Polish family in the Valley and so there happened to be an Afghanistan family too. I scanned around me to gauge people’s reactions as I sensed an interesting moment. Most were happy to respect one another’s personal space and continue as they were yet the Polish adults clearly from their body language, facial expressions and directional glances did not want this Afghanistan family sharing the same albeit very public playground as their children or their space. One of them even tried his luck to take a photo of the women as they were in their full gear. He pretended he was looking at the menu on his camera but then he felt braver and so the camera was lifted higher and higher until he felt confident enough to brazenly photograph them.

I felt fury seething away at me yet my husband held me back from standing in front of his camera to obscure any further potential frames and to prevent him from being so disrespectful – making a point of his/their attitudes. How dare they take photos of another family and be racist about them when they are immigrants themselves?! The bloody cheek of them.

Once, someone from the very same vicinity told my husband, my children and I to go back where we came from… If only they knew that, I came from down the road to them. There was no way my family and I was going to keep quiet about these bullies so we complained to the local councillor and several others who at their next residents meeting had their voices heard on our behalf. They were rather embarrassed and somewhat apologised.

Many also tend to have one rule for themselves and another. I knew someone who did not want anything to do with anyone who was in a negative state of mind yet he did not practise what he preached “Be kind always for you never know what that person is going through”… What another hypocrite.

One of the things about being deaf is being able to relate to how a foreigner is made to feel, since we are made to feel like outcasts also. Social cleansing happens much more than people realise.

The difference between the people of the North and the south of England is clearly diversity and tolerance. In London, anything goes – everyone is different and easily tolerated whereas in the North, most people are spoilt and do not like change.

Nevertheless, I have come to sense a certain emotion being ‘at home’ in the North East of Yorkshire. Being out in the wide open, the rolling moors, and the golden beaches of which is the surfers’ paradise. Up above are birds cherishing their flight and the wind beneath their wings. Bags of Cinder Toffee testing the strength of one’s delicate teeth. The mouth-watering aroma of the traditional fish and chips, especially in Whitby… Forget Parmesan! Discovering an abundance of fossils here and there. My childhood becoming my children’s’.

The glistening in the sunlight and the relative unique sounds of the seashore reminds me how it feels to be at peace, to be in awe of Mother Nature and its designs. Trivial issues be it political or personal and wealth turn ever more meaningless. The meaning of Life is clear.

However, Italy and North Africa is also in my blood so it is only natural that I feel a certain connection to these places and their cultures. Ever since I was a child growing up in the UK, I have never felt at home or accepted, not even, for who I am. How could I ever feel “at home” amongst all the conflicting angst being imposed upon myself?

As the delight in my children’s faces matches that in my heart, I know that as long as we have one another, I determine that I will be ‘home’… For ‘home’ is where my heart is.

~ SJ (Sara Jae)