I Am Not What Happened To Me

1st August 2018

I know it’s not usual for me to write much (or anything at all) before my poems but this one has an amazing story to share and also of synchronicity.

This was the third poem I wrote the other day, but after writing it I had doubts that I would ever share it. My feelings were: Who am I to tell people how to get through bad times when I have not gone through what they have? Yes, I have had problems in my life, but I am very well aware that they are nowhere near as bad as others face. So, I just thought I’d file it away.

However, Source/Universe/Law of Attraction (or whatever you want to call it) had another plan! And this one totally blew me away and so clearly told me to use this poem, no matter my doubts!

It was after I had got the first poem all ready to post with the story of how synchronicity had given me the idea of what to write about it. With it all ready to go, I went to check my emails and had one from Netflix about a new film just added called Breathe.  I read the write up and thought I knew the name of the main character, so I read some more and Googled the film to see if it was who I thought.

In 1962 until 1972 (aged 1 to 11) my family lived in a very small village (Drayton St Leonard, Oxfordshire) next door to my father’s parents. I was close to my grandmother and I know I am very much like her. It was truly a blessing that we lived so close for those early years as she died when I was seven. However, before this she worked for a family who lived in a large house in the village. She loved her job as Housekeeper and Cook, being an excellent cook due to spending her younger years in service. The family often had guests visit at weekends so she was kept busy feeding them all. I have memories of going to see her and hanging around waiting for her to finish work! Other fond memories are of going to a  fundraising fete hosted by this family in their grounds, and another open day where we could all use their swimming pool. Being so young I don’t remember personally interacting with the family, but I do remember happy smiling faces, even though the father of the family was in a wheelchair and couldn’t move. His name was Robin Cavendish.

The film was about the family and of how when Robin contracted polio at 28, he was paralyzed from the neck down and not given long to live, he could not breathe without artificial help so was doomed to spend the rest of his short life in hospital. However, he and his wife Diana had other ideas, and he went home to live out what was to be a long life! (He died aged 64). Not only was he to become one of the longest living responauts, but he became a tireless advocate for disabled people. He and a friend (Teddy Hall) created the wheelchair that enabled him to lead a life out of bed, he raised money to provide chairs for others like him and went on to help create numerous other devices to provide independence to paralyzed people. He also travelled the world to inspire others and was made an MBE in 1974. (an award given by the Queen for outstanding service). A truly remarkable man!

I was blown away with the timing of receiving this email, about a film just added, of someone I knew when I was younger, who my grandmother worked for, and was a perfect example of what I was trying to convey! As it is from such a long time ago, it was definitely not something on my mind when writing, but now I do wonder about all the significance of the little things in life that we are part of, and the way they instill learning messages into us!

With this outstanding synchronicity I took it as a blessing to share this poem. I also knew that somewhere I had a photograph of the family, as I had scanned many of my mothers photos into my computer. I have thousands of family photos, but very rarely do I keep any of people who are not related, I am pretty sure that this is the only one from my younger years. Whenever I have a sorted through my files – not very often, I must admit – I always wondered why I would never delete this one! And now I know!!!

By the way, I watched the film that evening and thought it was a wonderfully inspiring story. I spoke to my mother about it and she told me that she knew from my nan that the devotion conveyed in the film was 100% true. The only thing I know of that was not portrayed correctly was that the house was IN the village and looked so much better than the one in the film!