Moving on now with days  becoming more cheery and loads of Spring shoots appearing in the garden which always brighten your spirits. It goes without saying that of course  I am still missing my special man very much, but there has been much excitement in the “Hemingway home” to keep me distracted. I have so much to be grateful for.  Jo and his new lady arrived for a really nice weekend together with Ellie (my niece ) and Stu, with all of us having a jolly time at  the village pub over a  good meal. The house seemed brighter and it was lovely to have their company.

Firstly something to cheer and  finishing last week, a new vamped kitchen! Bringing everything more up-to-date with wonderful work achieved by dear brother-in-law Ian. Keeping the cost down by using the little bit out-of date but still good condition, existing cabinets. I added two extra high level cookers and two new hobs. All the cabinets and power had to be redone with new under-shelf lighting and a microwave was added into a concealed cabinet to make it more streamline and modern. It was no easy task as rearranging an older kitchen is always so much harder than starting from scratch. It was long overdue but not being able to have the disruption while Hamada was poorly I am now thrilled with the result. Thank you Ian, for putting up with all my requests and for the perfect work achieved.

Also, as shown in top photo, I wanted you to see the wonderful work my sister Jenny did re-upholstering a chair that I’ve had since 1967 ! This chair with the most unusual shape being very wide at the back, was brought for me by a dear Aunt who is no longer with us and so the chair was much treasured. It was very shabby having been used all these years for everything from a nursing chair to an extra dining chair, and many more uses besides. I can see my babies sitting in this chair at various stages of their lives and so pleased that it could be saved with Jenny’s skill.

Jenny took this old chair  stripping it right down to the  solid oak frame, re-varnishing the woodwork, replacing stuffing, webbing and even piping and covering silk buttons, completing with this very beautiful but rather impracticable silk  material. This was chosen by yours truly, a pattern I just fell in love with. I am so very thrilled with the result and the beautiful work that Jenny has done, it fits my eclectic/mishmash taste so well. Thank you Jenny for your skill  and for saving this much loved chair. I wonder what dear Auntie Dot would have thought of it now?  At 44 years old I think it looks splendid, what do you think readers ?

The disaster that is now our beautiful Egypt! I am pleased Hamada did not live to see this terrible fighting and bloodshed for he would have been so sad. Stay safe dear family and good friends. I know that you read here and some of you have internet restored again now. Stay strong and positive. I am thinking of you and praying that peace will come really soon.  Below is the re-posting  of my poem “Cairo” The beautiful Cairo we all knew and loved.  May it return to us once more.

“Cairo”

Oh Cairo of the sepia light,
empurple in the late of night,
the sparkling rays on marble stones
the quickest steps and gleaming domes.
The narrow streets and alleyways,
the different smells, the different ways.
The hookah pipes, the mint tea trays,
Oh Cairo and your faded ways

The empyrean of mosaic mosques,
the many souks and little shops.
The hot and dusty lives we lived,
the little child with flower to give.
Street cafes where every day
we sat and watched in wondrous gaze.
Oh Cairo, I remember all those days.

The perfume shop, where we paid
to smell like Chloe, in a way!
The special time, with special friends,
we thought that it would never end.
Halcyon days spent with you
enticing splendour of garnet hue.
Twinkling stars in darkest night,
Oh Cairo of the sepia light.

The dark robed men,
with beads and dice,
delicious honey with special spice,
the bright and silky lengths of cloth
tahina, lentils in a pot.
Can you recall this magic place ? 
                               for I can see your handsome face.
                                                                    Oh Cairo of the sepia light.

@ Copyright 2006

Dear John,

Monday 24 Jan.2011

Yes indeed we can John, we can do all manner of things if those things bring us comfort. Kissing the special bookmark is a tender act of remembrance as you think of your wife. We fought long and hard to help our partners and so the path we take to bring comfort is ours  to choose and ours alone to find. If  a little gesture brings some peace or comfort to us, then it’s a must.

I try to keep busy to get through the days although not so in the first few weeks. I have now started  this distraction therapy with a little work at “Hemingway”  Work that was long overdue, re-designing the kitchen bringing it more up-to-date. Planning in my mind little things to take care of during the next few weeks, I thought might help? I sincerely hope your days have not been too painful this week.

When tending a love one and making all decisions for their medical care, arranging  drug ordering, keeping the many hospital appointments and with all their personal needs to attend to. The very many things that are important to make their days comfortable.  Then all of a sudden when they are no longer here and all their daily needs stop, it is like losing a right arm. A huge chasm opens  up, a void you feel like jumping into. The awful emptiness that fills your mind and  time “what do I do now”.

So I have been trying to fill my days with little projects. Not terribly exciting plans but achieving something small everyday gives me a structure to focus on, a sense of purpose in a way. I talk to Hamada  often just like he is in the other room as I am sure you talk to your precious wife also. I still put on his favourite music forgetting he is no longer there to listen but hoping he can, am I mad?

I was cleaning the window of his bedroom from the outside, something I often did- in between the window cleaners coming-so he could always have a nice shiny perfectly clear view of the sky. As I was rubbing away at the glass  I could clearly see Hamada’s reflection in the glass! I looked and saw him propped up in his bed smiling at me.  So I bent forward and blew him a kiss then on seeing clearly that the room was empty, my heart filled with such pain again at the missing of him. Things like that upset your day, the desire to see your love one just one more time, or for me to hear his  beautiful voice often overwhelms.

So keeping busy for me is paramount but I’m still not up to large social ‘do’s’ I live in a tiny village, our community is close and there are often rather nice things to attend. Village Hall Dinners, Music evenings but I’m not ready for those yet. I scuttle and flurry about like some demented black bat with my private thoughts and memories at times frightened they might vanish. Silly really for if they did, so would I. Of course we shall survive not living the life we had imagined but we shall keep our memories safe and perhaps by talking about our grief we may give some hope to others.

I pray you have a peaceful week and manage to enjoy some good days.

All very best wishes for your continued peace.

Susie.x

Hi Anne,

Wednesday 26 Jan 2011.

Yes today was difficult just like you said it would be, the horrid two month anniversary. Can it really be this long? You said it would be this way and you are so much further down this difficult road with your loss than I. Eight weeks!  this longing to have him back seems as if it has been forever. The quietness now in the house after all the bustle and arrangements of funeral etc. I am sure it is harder in a way for us because we spent so much time with our partners. Far more than any ‘normal’ relationship. Caring takes all the hours in a day unless you are lucky to have some help. Even so, it is hard to leave your loved one and for most of us, we were hardly apart in the last few weeks at all. How close we became, almost breathing together in the end, watching and tending to their needs in those last precious moments together. Then the exhaustion that arrived when all was completed and all necessary paperwork attended to. I could not think of anything except my loss and the wishing he was with me here again.I found myself spending much time sleeping in the first few weeks, buried deep beneath mounds of duvet; the weather was freezing with snow that matched well my icy heart and body. I did not wish to wake from the place without pain but I would always manage to get up in the early hours, shower and dress. The first thought on waking was so painful and my whole body shook with grief and longing. I found it hard to get warm although the central heating is perfectly adequate. Being shivery is normal I believe and impossible to get warm I would creep back to bed at the first opportunity. All I longed for were hot baths and even hotter mugs of black tea and to be completely alone.Fancy those being the only things that could bring comfort during this time, I would clasp the mugs of tea as if they were a life line.

You have told me of your comforts, how different we all are but whatever works is the right path to take. As these days go by we will see a progress in taking a new direction with our lives and that in turn may give us some peace. Look forward to hearing from you again.

All fondest wishes and hope for your recovery.

Susie x

“Tell yourself how well you do. You may discover you’re doing better than you thought”

Permission granted as “open letters”  All Rights Reserved.

It is two months today since I lost my Hamada and I have been looking through some photos and found this lovely one  showing his amazing smile. I thought I would share it. I shall keep smiling today in honour of this lovely Man.

“Sorrow is better than fear…

fear is a journey, a terrible journey,

but sorrow is at least an arriving.”

Alan Paton.

Looking back on the fifty- five months of  caring  for Hamada and although the sadness is an utterly desolate pit to try to escape from. I am inclined to agree with the words above. From the time of diagnosis although very hard to take onboard, my first and paramount thought was how can I make this time, this journey for Hamada the best it can be. Most  importantly especially at the end.

At times this consumed me but certainly not all the time. I was so busy fighting for the best treatment for him and learning all I could about the particular disease of Multiple Myeloma but often in the early hours of the morning when sleep was over and my mind was as sharp as it can be these days. I worried that perhaps the end would not be as I hoped for him.

I had talked to Hamada as the months went by about what he wanted most when the time came. We did not dwell on these morbid thoughts and often I denied positively that this time was not on the horizon, or in the next few months as was first thought. Often declaring  sincerely that he would probably outlive me.

I always gave Hamada great hope that this would not be for many years to come and certainly for a vast number  of MM sufferers this is now so. Hamada was a quietly wise man but he  had many complications that I knew were insurmountable and so I think did he.  We never gave way to hopelessness and only considered losing the battle on rare occasions. Never dwelling, just getting on with treatments and trying to make each day important  and special. With many goals to reach along the way.

I knew from these occasional discussions that he so wanted to be in our little home here in the country. He wanted to die looking at the sky in the comfort of his own bed, listening to his favourite songs and with me at his side. Thank goodness this was so.

So often as my family will testify, I worried(feared) that Hamada would be whisked away to hospital and not be where his heart desired to be ( hard one this). Very often by nature we panic when the time comes – wishing to help as much as possible to the end- never thinking that nothing more can be done, especially if it has been a long fight and many battles won.  A hard place to arrive at in the Carers mind but so incredibly important and must be found. The time to know when it is ok to stop.

 And so yes, sorrow although so hard is better than fear. For fear is a dreadful journey, I can attest to that.

23rd Jan 2011 – 2months since Hamada died.

Beneath the deepest seas and over land between us.

Through eternity that life controls.

Across those magic desert lands and dark green forests,

dripping in time of souls before.

Our faith, our bond, covers this space willingly.

I’ll catch the hands I know above this highest sphere

unseen now but across and beyond.

I’ll kiss those lips I know so well.

Hear that voice I long to hear

but do not think of me until we meet Dear One,

It will be faith that helps us to believe that we shall join once more,

                            across and beyond…

All Rights Reserved 2011.

My beautiful Daughter-in-law Sandrine Rutherford  is Swimming 2.5k on 9th April 2011, in loving memory of Hamada for the Marie Curie Cancer Care Charity. Sponsor her please if you can, at www.swimathon.org

For more information about Swimathon 2011, visit www.swimathon.org or contact us on info@swimathon.org or call 0845 36 700 36       

Although missing my lovely man so very much I feel somehow in a calmer place than the last few weeks.  Nothing is easy when someone  so precious to you is no longer there, everyday is an uphill climb; everyday a struggle to find yourself again. I have felt like hibernating which suited the weather that we have been having  but knowing that I cannot do that forever. I have starting with a little walking and have been trying to plan some small projects to help  me  to reshape my life and try to look to the future. All  little steps take tremendous mental energy, for all of us bereaved these little advances come at different times it seems. I find my tears still arrive at the least expected moment but I welcome them now as a sacred act of remembrance. I have rarely cried in my life so this is something quite new to me but I know it fosters healing, giving me some understanding that love is such a spiritual bond that death really does not sever.

It is a purely selfish need to want Hamada back with me once more, I  feel that my loss has drained all direction to my life, all  joy and meaning. I desire more than anything to see him once more particularly to hear his voice.  Still the hollow feeling I carry around is now something I value as a connection to my love one.

At last I managed to settled down to read again all the wonderful letters and cards of condolence that although I had read before when they arrived in huge bundles but then being  so distraught, I felt they all deserved another quiet read through. It was wonderful to read again the heartfelt messages of love and and wonderful snippets of  all the different memories of our dear Hamada, written by those who knew him and some from those who did not, written from all various aspects. Most using the words “Such A Gentleman” and  “His Smile”This seemed to be a way of  peacefully celebrating his life again sharing the memories of others as I read their words of love.

It is early days yet for me without my lover, my mentor and my best friend but I think I could say that I have some small seeds of hope now that I will become strong once again and that  my days do now seem  a little more peaceful. I wish all those who are bereaved, peace and with much hope that they too can find  the solace they need.

I miss you before my mind reaches consciousness

I miss your smile when I leave my dreams.

Missing you is the light of morning and the dusk of eventide,

it is all the hours in between too.

I talk to you as I pass your door, I hear your call in the night to me and I hear your feet touch the floor in the hallway.

Missing you is the sun glinting on snow or the foggy gloominess of tearful days.

It’s smelling your clothes as I pack them away…when I don’t want to part with them but know I should.

It is this pain I carry heavily around in my heart every day that all know about but that no one can see.

Missing you is the tears that try to overwhelm me with their hot painfulness, that jump out to catch-me when I least expect them. That make me feel foolish when they trickle unasked down my face.

Missing you is the place that is always yours at the table; it is not wanting to sit there ever again but knowing I must.

Where were you when we all sat with  garish Christmas hats that you always managed to wear and still look cute?

I was thinking of you then and all the time when laughter surrounded me, when I heard your voice out of the mouth of another, seeing your smile in my mind and on the face of a stranger!

I miss your talks with me at the end of every day, your dear sweet words of love…more than I could miss the air I breathe.

Missing you is the crisp white snow melting in a river of tears, that flow from eyes that seldom cried.

I miss too much your dark ‘chocolate coloured’ eyes, even missing the look of pain they carried in recent years. I miss the way they always searched for me. Are they searching for me now?

Missing you is the hardest thing I have ever done….or will I ever do…

Ray of  Light Photo:  Janey Johnson Photos.

Although my days are painful I am making small beginnings towards reshaping my life without my loved one. It is good for me to write once more and I have started in a small way. The snow is still heavy on our lanes and now with even more predicted the temperatures  are falling sharply once  more. It feels as if it has been a long Winter already, as my thoughts turn to my first Christmas in more than thirty years without my special one. Today I decorated the Christmas tree, it would have been so easy to ignore but with my family arriving at this special time, what would our dear Grandson think if there was no tree ?  Grandpa loved the twinkling lights and would always admire gracefully the work involved. I can see them both together, looking at all the little ornaments collected over the years. My heart ached for Hamada today as I completed this task.

I walked in the snow and laid a perfect cream rose on Hamada’s grave this week. I know I am still shocked and numb but accepting and peaceful that I did all that could possibly be done to ease and comfort him during these past years. The pattern of each persons grief is unique to them, mine has been shaped by the particular relationship we had. All that was ever needed to be said, was said.

And so:  I don’t really believe that you ever “get over” such a significant loss in your life, grieving is among the most sacred thing you will ever do. This quiet abiding feeling is I feel a connection to my precious loved one.  I don’t really ever wish to lose it, my memory of him and our time together will always be maintained as I embark on a different chapter of my life.

So I decorated the tree observing our tradition with a simple ceremony that eased my pain.I can see Hamada’s lovely smile and his delight at this years result. “Missing you Habibi”

“I wish all my readers far and wide a very Happy Holiday and much  joy and peace to you all”

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.

Let me not falter dear Lord.

Let me not fall at this final hurdle.

Guide me now to complete this task.

Let me not plaintively wail and scream as my heart doth now.

Allow me to show dignity that he always showed.

Let me not stand beneath the stars and scream his name aloud.

Let me remember this day, as we honour him.

Grant me the courage that he always showed.

Let me not go down on my bended knees and shout at the sky,

And implore you to return him to me.

Let me not fall at this final hurdle.

Give me the strength Lord not to fail with this final task.

Susie Hemingway December 2010

All Rights reserved.

My beloved Hamada quietly and peacefully and with great dignity left us today to go home to be with God.

“Dear Universe a new angel has joined. He is handsome, caring, loving and a great symbol of courage and strength. His wings spread across the globe sincerely and lovingly touching the lives of many. His journey on earth has been an inspiration of courage to us all”

More messages of condolence on www.susiehemingway.blogspot.com  and shown also in comments here.

23 November,

Just a short update for those who are awaiting news of our dear Hamada, especially our family in Egypt. Hamada has started his final journey home to rest. Yesterday a wonderful nurse from the Macmillan support team came to visit at home and confirmed what I already knew. Hamada is slipping quietly to his resting place. He is no longer speaking or drinking he has a ‘rattle’ on his chest and his body is slowly shutting down. I have spent all of the night hours watching over him, catching small naps when I can.
The Doctor is to arrive shortly and will bring or prescribe all necessary drugs to administer by injections or patches for Hamada’s comfort now that he is not swallowing well.
For the nurses who I know read this web-blog: Hamada did not pass urine for 24 hours, but today some, which I believe shows his kidneys have not completely shut down yet. It is a much better way for him to ‘pass’ if they do.
As our Jo said, perhaps this is our last miracle for this journey to end peacefully this way and I pray with all my heart for this to be for my beloved Warrior. It is also possible that he will stay in this ‘dream like’ state for a few more days yet although I do not believe so, he is extremely weak now.
My Sister Jenny and brother-in-law Ian, lovingly came this morning to help me tenderly bathe him and to change linens and to make Hamada smell just like I know he loves, all friends will know how fussy Hamada is with his love of good cologne. He is peaceful and in no pain, dearly sweet and surrounded with much love

Hamada has spoken very little during the last two days, managing only to smile and greet the family who have all been here at "Hemingway" this weekend. I know by his smiles that he has enjoyed so much, seeing them all during this bittersweet weekend.

Jo gave his father a wonderful shave, something that I was not managing to do very well!  It was a wonderful time of family closeness. I received some of the best much needed hugs, which have given me more courage to continue after this long worrying week.

After everyone had left I managed to get Hamada to his favourite chair in the sitting room during the early evening, thus giving me time to put fresh linens on his bed. He was not speaking at all during this time not eating anything, just dozing on and off. During the middle of the evening he became more agitated and seemed a little distressed so I helped him back to the safety of his bed.

As I settled him down for the night he spoke, his voice clear for the first time in two days. He was tearful and told me that he was very tired now but needed to say something, struggling to find the words he said that he did not think he could continue any further, almost as if he was asking for permission to go. I let him know gently that it was now time for him to rest and for him not to be concerned about anything but sleeping now. He spoke about his love for me and his worries of leaving me and I reassured him that I would be fine, his beautiful words brought a few gentle tears to us both. I laid my face close to his as he settled into a very calm deep sleep and so a time of loving observation and a night vigil for me began. It is now 6am and Hamada is still sleeping, his breathing just a gentle rhythm in the quietness of the house and as I go for my shower I wonder what this new day will bring and is it time now?