This is a double challenge: Sidey’s weekend theme is “Those that survive” and the Daily Post writing challenge has suggested “And now for something completely different“. BOTH bring up memories. Almost by definition the idea of ‘survive’ creates a revisit to difficult times, when challenge was strong, feelings were high, and stress and worry for self and others seemed nearly overwhelming. The Daily Post topic is a memory in itself, who of my age would not remember Monty Python and that first ever time the gang took off with this phrase in 1971 (according to wikipedia, my memory is not that good).
Will I challenge myself to do a John Cleese? I don’t think so… maybe another day… Sidey’s theme had me thinking about the past. This was particularly the case because, coincidentally, my ex-husband was on the island for two weeks at the end of September, visiting the family, and of course we had a lot of contact and interaction which inevitably threw up the memories. I realised that apart from an ‘about’ page, this blog has been about the present. So – completely different – a blast from the past. [Also, different, those of you who look at the blog regularly, may have noticed that I don’t do videos, or you-tube songs and music.]
In 1990/91 the year the marriage broke down for ever and I moved home and job to Edinburgh this song seemed to blare from every corner. I will survive. [First performed in 1978 by Gloria Gaynor – guess where I got the date]
I HATED it. [implies victim or something like that]
One of my friends said I was the one who got over the wall, I liked that better, she is still married and they survive too.
I loved all the single women I met in a new place, widowed, divorced and not yet married, who invited me to lunch and concerts and dancing. Thanks especially to Fred, Irene and Caroline who sang along so often. Where are you all now?
A great line in the song is: Oh as long as I know how to love I know I’ll stay alive
By definition, indeed, if alive, I have survived. Continue blogging, laughing, dancing, playing having a lot of living to do.
The loving has never stopped, it just seems to be built in along with all the other feelings that run around inside.
I try not to let some of them out. That’s part of why I read and write poetry, an acceptable place for the not-loving to live in, and indeed for me to discover the not-loving which is still hiding inside!