Wanted & Unwanted

1^st October 2009

A large bunch of flowers is delivered to my home today. Part of me thought for once Steve had stepped up to the game, but who am I kidding.

It was his firm who he works for wishing me a speedy recovery. I was happy about the flowers, but I just wished it had come from Steve. There was only one occasion he bought me flowers and that was for the birth of Sophia. He gives me cards at odd intervals with little messages in, but romance is not high on his agenda. At the start of our relationship it was fine. He took me to restaurants and on the occasional outing to a club. But after a while that all fizzled out even promises he made before I moved to London never materialised. We spend most our days in the house and him vanishing whenever he chooses.

It was all down to me to make the effort and I had given in because it felt one sided. Yes, I would do the odd thing to prove it does not cost much to show a little romance, but no amount of hinting moved him. I cried at receiving the flowers and told Steve to pass a thank you onto the firm. I just wish he understood what the tears were really for. I feel so lonely and isolated from everyone.    

Went to the theatre and got on with completing the costumes, but when I returned home there is a card from up north on my door mat. I look at it closely and I recognise the writing. My eldest sister has been busy again. I do not know how she got my address, but I am not impressed. I had sent a message via Kayleigh to all the girls in the family to get their breasts checked as a pre-cautionary measure. Steve did warn me it would trigger problems.

I have not had any contact with my siblings since my parents’ divorce in 2007. I was blamed for taking sides when really I was staying neutral. My siblings were interfering with the divorce process instead of stepping back and allowing our parents’ to fight it out between themselves. No divorce is straight forward, but I have a saying, ‘Unless you are a fly on the wall button it.’

I started to get dirty stunts pulled on me and accused of various things. So I made a mature stance to cut all contact with them once I had moved to London. Of cause I had to break that silence due to the breast cancer.

I and my father did speak about all our behaviour back in 2000. When all the siblings were brawling outside my home.

“Dad can you do something?” I begged him “It has gone on for too long we need our heads banged together.” I pleaded.

I showed him my head with clumps of hair the size of fifty pence pieces missing leaving bald patches. He turned his head away and said. “Sarah it has been like this fifty years why should it change now?”  I turned to him in tears and I had never cuddled him since I was a child, but I did that day in disbelief at what he had said.

This man was willing to watch his family fall apart. Without any true reasoning behind it. The one person you want to believe in and trust cannot control his own offspring.

The very next week I had made an appointment at a solicitor to get an injunction out on my eldest sister. I had to do something to break the cycle of events. She was the instigator of majority of the internal arguing. I told the solicitor my version of events and he agreed something had to be done. I held up my hands and said I was no angel, but it has gone too far. The solicitor agreed I had done all I could because of my fathers’ reply to me.

He sent a letter out to my eldest sister stating she was to stay away from my property with a boundary written out. Then I waited on a transfer to a different village and once I had moved all contact was cut between sisters.

My father was angry that I would not speak to my sisters’ and that I had taken an injunction out. My eldest sister had turned up at my parents’ house with the paperwork in her hands crying. But I was not having any of it any longer the jealousy and lies had to stop. He spoke to me asking why I had taken such an action even saying I had blown it out of proportion. In my heart I knew what I had done was the right thing and no-one was going to change it.

Dad blamed mum for me doing what I did. Even being involved and encouraging the division amongst the girls, but he and I knew the truth. None of the girls can get along and unless he was willing to take control nothing more can be said or done.

On his death bed he told my eldest daughter that nothing could be done. So right up until 16^th July 2009 he was still thinking about my request.

But now I find that my eldest sister has tracked me down again. I open the card to read what is in it. I could not believe what she had written, but in the next glance I was not surprised either. She definitely needs to tighten a few loose screws or she has lost a couple. I had been written off with my last rights with this card. With what she had written in it.

She was expecting a response and I was not giving her the satisfaction of a reply. So I took it outside and burn it. Cards like what my sister wrote do not help my situation. They just give off negativity and make you ask too many questions.

This way the cycle is broken before it starts, but I had already prepared myself for such a card. After all we are all still grieving for my father. I just wanted to do my grieving away from prying eyes.

It is strange how when organising your hospital night bag you put things in it you know you’re not going to be able to use. I run through a list in my head of the things I need. I know I will forget something that’s why I’m sorting it now. I laugh because people always buy new cotton underwear. We hate the thought of being judged by our knickers. Going into the operating theatre with a pair of printed underwear with sexual positions would make staff chuckle. Better still a pair of crutch-less knickers. I may have cancer, but my humour is not stinted in any way.

So do I go to Marks and Spencer’s and buy their brand? Of course.....

I ring Sandra up to tell her what I am doing she laughs and asks, “Have you been to Marks and Spencer’s to buy your hospital knickers?”

She always knows what to say to create laughter. Two northern chickens clucking together for reassurance.

I now have dinner to prepare and I cannot be arsed to do it. I’ve done most the cleaning and washing because of my mum coming to watch Sophia. She is a clean-a-holic and cannot sit still for five minutes to relax, but given half the chance will complain about the slightest thing she sees.

I’m also worried because I know it is clash of the titans. You have Steve who is abrupt in manner and language. Then there is mum who is anti man right the minute and loves to argue. So the thought of the two under the same roof is worrying me. Most probably I am making a mountain out of a mole hill, but both are strong willed in nature.