​This is going to be another long one… apologies in advance and my thanks to those very rare and beautiful who take the time to read my long life-stories.  Thank you for Liking my posts to let me know that you are there… that I’m not alone.  And thank you also for the very rare, supportive and uplifting comments… they also mean so much to me.  I am grateful for you all who stand by me here.
 
11 December 21 – There was so much depression after hearing that my family was going to be leaving the country.  On one evening when the tears wouldn’t stop, I wrote:
 
FADING-WEEPING-TEDDY BEARS
© All Rights Reserved – www.pattyskeys.co.za
 
How must I bear this dreadful pain
Of my children leaving home again
This time further than before
Why would Life just go and pile on more
How strong does God believe I am
Will anything ever be the same
The shifting, SHOUTING, sands of time
And I’m left, my pain to mime
No one sees, or hears, or cares
FADING-WEEPING-TEDDY BEARS.
 
~ Panayiota Ryall
(11 December 2021)
 
I pondered the title wording of this poem over a few days and realised that my deep pain belongs to my inner child… the one who sees my children as her friends… her comfort during the storms of life… her teddy bears… and I reasoned and understood that this was not a healthy connection with my children… it was not on the adult functioning level of my being.  This was something I need to consider in connection to my pain of losing their presence in my life… a new area I NEED to be working on over the years to come, but especially now during this time of separation anxiety and the grieving pain that seems to connect to it.
 
I asked my family not to tell me when they were going… I imagined February, but while I didn’t know, I was able to function better without the “goodbye-grieving-spirit” possessing me and draining me of oxygen, life and joy.  I am so grateful that they honoured my request.
 
A month ago, in a moment of depression-desperation, I reached out to the online Logotherapist who has been there for me over the last 7 years.  I don’t need her help often, but when I do, I am generally in a really bad way and not coping… I feel completely out of control.
 
Dear lovely Marylyn,
 
How are you for time this week and maybe next? I might need you. I feel like I'm losing it, but hanging on for dear life with Christmas coming... need to be strong for my family and grandchildren. Otherwise, I will maybe speak to Teria if you're very busy... I'm very busy, so I understand that you probably will be also.
 
What a crazy time of the year and I never do well with Christmas build-up as it is... but this time, my wonderful 2nd son, lovely daughter in law and 3 beloved grandchildren are preparing to leave for England in February... this might be our last Christmas together... I'm in a state of mourning and can't shake it... but the girls are coming to cook dolmades with me today, with their mom, so I have to pull myself towards myself for now... the tears just don't seem to want to stop! I will take a Rescue before they get here.
 
Anyway, no need for you to respond now, because I can't let myself go there right now... I have to get really busy to prepare for our cooking day together and try stay strong for them... killer stuff!!! The urge to hurt myself for relief from this extreme emotional pain is back... but I am sure I won't go there... but that's just how bad it feels... as if there's been a death...
 
I will check from tomorrow if you have responded. I think I just need the reassurance of not feeling alone with this...
 
Lots of love to you and gratitude...
 
Marylyn responded
 
Dearest Pan
 
No, you are not alone... I am with you through this journey. It is incredibly difficult to support the decision of your son and daughter in law (which I have no doubt that you do)... and yet feel bereft, hollow and distraught at their choice.
 
But as with all Logotherapists... we know that we need to search for what this means for them and for us. Who knows dear Pan... that you may have the chance to visit them in the future. It takes huge courage to leave the familiar territory of home, especially with 3 children... and yet... your son is going to take this leap... because he has you, his mother, as his role model.
 
He has been witness to how you are a fighter and how you have overcome huge challenges and still live with the challenges on so many fronts. But does this deter you in any way?
 
You know the answer dearest Pan... Absolutely not! Like mother... like son...
 
So whilst the heart of a mother weeps... the stamina of determination allows him to move forward... as he must... for the sake of his family.
 
You are never alone dear Pan... the road ahead is going to be bumpy... but then you know bumpy, you know potholes that swallow you for periods... but you always rise again Pan...
 
So, trust in the rising...
 
…Return here whenever you choose and write the words from your heart in this sacred corner …it belongs to you…
 
Warmly Marylyn
 
I responded
Dearest Marylyn,
 
Nobody but Teria could say the right words like you do. By the time my daughter in law, son and one granddaughter arrived on Monday afternoon to help me make dolmades for Christmas... (my daughter in law said she needed to learn how to do them, because they all love them so much)... so by the time they came, I had worked so hard already to prepare for them, and taken a Rescue calming tablet and my sadness had completely disappeared while they were here... it was like night and day! So, I know that it is an inner child's sadness...
 
HISTORY OF MY CONNECTION WITH MY CHILDREN AND THE THREAT OF THEM LEAVING ME
Just a brief poetic history of my immense grieving struggle connected to my children leaving me.  When they were young adults and each started to leave home, I struggled just as I am now with my son and family leaving soon.  I wrote poems of the pain I suffered back then… they might help the reader to understand my current struggles…
 
During all the years of hardships and abuse inflicted on me/us in my two marriages, my children were my strength, inspiration, motivation and most importantly, my reason for living… so, it’s safe to say, that my bond with them was very strong! (Perhaps, too strong).
 
I wrote during difficult times where I felt I could no longer go on:
 
MY REASON TO GO ON!
© All Rights Reserved ~ www.pattyskeys.co.za
 
Oh yes, my beloved children
How I long to escape the worries of this world
To be released of all my responsibilities here
No more worries, no more cares
No more trials and no more fears
No more pains and no more tears
To just turn out the light of day
And find my spirit gently drifting away
To another place, another time
To be freed at last from this life that’s mine…
 
But naught could make me leave right now
While I have you, I have to stay
A mother’s love, her sacrifice
To not let go!  To never give up
To stay on here… I choose it thus
Though living has often proved to be a curse indeed
Cruel and unrelenting in its efforts to destroy
To bring me down and to annoy
But life with you my beloved children is oh, so sweet
No tempting rest at Heaven’s gate
No other great and wondering desires beyond my love for you
All life upon this earth, for me is made worthwhile because of you
So, I shall never will myself to leave to a place of blissful peace
Because my utter joy; my whole reason for going on
Is made complete in my unconditional love for you.
 
~ Panayiota Ryall
(24th August 2000)
 
I WILL NOT DROWN!
© All Rights Reserved ~ www.pattyskeys.co.za
 
SUFFOCATING!  No air to breathe
Drowning just beneath the waves
I can see LOVES rays penetrating the surface
Where I cannot reach
No matter how hard I try
For every time I struggle closer
The waves beat more and more
And sometimes I almost give up
Thinking, what is this struggling for
Beneath me the sea is dark and deep
Above love tries to shine through
And the more the waves try to push me down
The more I remember you.
 
My children sailing up above
On seas that are rough and wild
And I know that’s where this mother should be
Calming the waves for her child
So, the darkness that tugs me to the dreadful deep
Must never win its fight
For I’ll struggle on, and never give up
If I’m to reach that saving light
For in that moment where I touch the surface again
I know that the waves will cease
And I can board that lovely ship once more
With my children, where there is peace
So, I will not give up when the storms beat strong
And I’m tossed again into the sea
For my children still need me
And I must return
To where this mother should be
 
“Be strong!” I call… “Be patient for me
For my seas are quite stormy, it’s true
But I will not drown while you need me still
Because I’ll never stop loving you!”
 
~ Panayiota Ryall
(28 October 2004)
 
RISE UP, DEAR MOTHER!
© All Rights Reserved ~ www.pattyskeys.co.za
 
I’m battling to stay awake
Battling to stay alive
Sleep tries to steal what’s left of me
As I struggle, just to survive
 
I must be strong – I must be strong
My children need me still
Something’s trying to draw life away
As if I’m drugged by a strong sleeping pill
 
I’m weak and so tired, with a heavy head
And a heavy heart as well
Everywhere in pain!  Joints aching sore
As if poisoned by an evil spell
 
Sadness has caused this dreadful state
Emotions soar out of control
I must be strong – I must be strong
Before it takes its toll
 
***
Rise up, dear mother
And do your best
As you have always done
Tomorrow is another day
Gird the strength to carry on!
 
~ Panayiota Ryall
(29 October 2004)
 
When they started to grow up and didn’t need me as much anymore and when they gradually began to leave home… I struggled awfully with Empty Nest Syndrome.
 
THE GROWN-UP SEA!
© All Rights Reserved ~ www.pattyskeys.co.za
 
How I’m craving for those loving hugs again the way they used to be
It seems as though we’re drifting apart on the currents of the ‘Grown Up Sea’
I frantically reach to pull you back, but it’s never quite the same
For the winds of change keep blowing and they’re too strong for me to tame
Where is my little baby who used to sail willingly with me
I felt so loved and needed then; my mother’s heart sailed free
But now I’m bound by the troubled tides, for my baby's big and tall
A mother’s song upon the breeze blows the waves that call for more
How I long to hold my baby once more upon that gently rocking sea
Being your mother was a glorious ship, designed especially for me
But to see you drifting further each day has caused my dream ship to fade
And the storm is beating mightily, upon this raft where I’m now laid
 
~ Panayiota Ryall
(12 June 2002)
 
A MOTHER’S SOUL GRIEVES!
© All Rights Reserved ~ www.pattyskeys.co.za
 
It was so easy to find my joy then
In the lovely happy faces of my babies
It took so little effort to create their smiles
To greatly broaden my own
 
What joy it was to hear their laughter
To see their little faces, break into joyous delight
(Just like watching a beautiful sunrise on a fresh spring morning,
camping, carefree in a peaceful and heavenly place.)
 
How joyful it was to my soul to be needed so much
To be called on so often to give of my love
How wonderful it was to be so loved
I felt so fulfilled and happy then
 
How much strength they gave to my heart
And desire they gave to my life
How I long for my little ones now
But, my babies have grown…
 
And a mother’s soul grieves!
 
~ Panayiota Ryall
(29 August 2004)
 
3 January 22, I shared via WhatsApp

Graeme (my oldest son, Benjamin's fiancée’s son) is hilarious! I am sitting there this morning feeling very sorry for myself due to memories of a most wonderful evening out last night with ALL my children and grandchildren together for the first time in a very long time and maybe the last ever in my lifetime, and deep sadness that everyone is leaving soon... and in Graeme walks... just woken up (the other children still fast asleep)... No "Good morning" or anything... but... "Do you want to wear my headrest?"... proceeds to pull off my glasses as if he didn't even notice my tears pouring down my cheeks, and shoves his Pikachu over my head... it nearly strangled me as it wipes away my tears... but man, it was such a ridiculous moment I forgot how sad I was and just laughed... children are so darned funny!!! Just what the Dr ordered!!!
 
I LOVE MY GRANDCHILDREN SO MUCH FOREVER  Seriously too funny...
 
I believe the angels work through the innocent authenticity and love of children to touch lives, heal and uplift...
 
Graeme and his Pikachu wiped the tears clean off of my face!
 
On the 5 January, I wrote on Facebook
 
Striving for a state of happiness...
 
Happy for my family who are moving far-far-away from the troubles of this country to a much better future for my beloved grandchildren.
 
Sadness might continue to intervene and drain me, but I'm choosing MY BATTLE FOR HAPPINESS...
 
Sadness gradually kills...
 
Happiness saves...
 
Doing my best, because sadness really doesn't feel good at all! It drains one of every ounce of energy... messes with work and sensibility... blocks concentration... sucks the very life out of a person... damages the spirit... and it even makes one's face feel ugly!
 
ENOUGH ALREADY!!!
 
It amazes me how Life always takes care of me during the most difficult of times… for instance, keeping me too busy to lose myself in the depressive states, etc.   
 
There was Christmas… always an overwhelming time for me… too busy… too much expected… etc.   
 
My Cape Town son and family came to visit in my tiny house… it was hectic here, but wonderful at the same time.  Everything was so crowded and crazy, but also a longed-for time together, fulfilled, to see and be with them all again… They arrived on the 15 December 21 and left 4 January 22… they weren’t here the entire time, but were at the start and the end of that time. 

There’s been tons of rain, which also means my garden has been overgrown and needs constant attention and extra work.  That’s also kept me very busy and it is still growing strong.  All this time, my helper has been away on holiday and I’ve had to do it all alone.  I have a younger son who does not help much… he's too into his gaming and that alone can drag me down considerably and literally drain me when he is lounging around on his days off of work.  I wish I also had some lounge around time, but I always seem to be busy with something, so for me, some help would make so much difference. 
 
Around the end of December, my boss Teria, asked me to assist her with a Basic course student.  I immediately let her know (as I'd done more than once before), that I am NOT up to working in the Basic course, but this time, she ignored my protests and insisted.  From the moment I agreed, because I realised she was NOT going to let it go, my sadness-tears seemed to subside dramatically… I do believe that she knew that to help me out of my sadness, she needed to give me something else to think about and to concentrate on… and it worked.  She’s amazing!  I’m still not at all confident with the call, but the student seems to be so humble and ready to work that I am feeling drawn into being there for him.  Having meaning in life really does work to pull people out of their existential vacuums states!
 
On and off, my 2nd son and family have been bringing me loads of stuff that they are not taking with them when they move… that has been WONDERFUL!, but also created a huge amount of work in my small home… trying to find place for everything… going through stuff… What of my old things can be thrown out or given away so that the new can replace it, etc. This even involved getting rid of some very old furniture for new and better stuff to fit in.  Now, I will very much like to buy two new white cupboards to really be able to arrange my house with more order… they could cost as much as R4000 altogether…
 
I’m just putting it out there for just in case… no pressure… if anyone can assist to raise those funds, please could you make your "donation" to:

Account Holder:  Panayiota Ryall
First National Bank
Account Number: 62920892131
Branch code: 250655
Swift code:  FIRNZAJJ
 
I cancelled my old Business account which I shared on previous blog posts over the years, because it was costing me too much.  Above is my new account number.

or, you could make a donation through "Exchange for Free" where I am already listed.

Please reference any donations as "Donation"... thank you.
 
On the 15 December 21, I did my first Logotherapy Dream Interpretation, Zoom presentation for a Logotherapy Advanced course study group in Israel.  I was scared, but I did it anyway, and I believe it went off well.  It was suggested that I give students more time to answer my questions, so that’s something I need to be more aware of next time.  It was the very first time I actually deliberately asked questions, but I didn’t handle the awkward silences well… next time I will wait longer for responses… give them time to think about what I’d asked. I feel so good that I did this presentation... I have come so far! 
 
15 January 22, I wrote on Facebook
WOW!  So, yesterday I received an email from a lady connected to a Logotherapy group in Georgia, Russia, inviting me to be a guest speaker... EEEK!  Haahaaa! 
 
Who, me??? 😳
 
It's the craziest thing ever!  So, it will be another Zoom presentation that I will give on Logotherapy Dream Interpretation.  I told her to give me a month, because I'm not sure I can take on more at this time with my son and family leaving soon... I'm just keeping it together right now, mostly by working myself to a standstill each day!  I’m getting a lot done, so I'm not complaining, but it's exhausting to say the least!  (House and garden are taking up a HUGE amount of my time, and thankfully my work with VFISA has not been too stressful, which has been a true blessing. 
 
Anyway, I thought about how nervous I get giving presentations... how much confidence I lack... I thought about how much courage it takes me to say "Yes"... and I did... I said "Yes"... even though I have no idea how it will work out... Will I make a fool of myself?  Will people ask me questions that I won't be able to answer because my mind goes blank in an instant!... and so on and so forth!!!
 
But I kept coming to the same conclusion... I just have to say "Yes" to Life, because I KNOW without a shadow of a doubt, that my life was meant to go in this direction, regardless of my insecurities and fears... That this is what my life has always meant to be and become, and I would totally fail my Life's Calling if I dared to say "No"... so it's more important that I DARE... to say "Yes" and just trust in the outcome... That Life sent this to me and I must receive it and step into it willingly and BRAVELY.    
 
So, before I went to sleep last night, I found myself writing the following:
 
I Want to Know I Made a Difference
© All Rights Reserved ~ www.pattyskeys.co.za
 
I want to know when my time is done
And my life has been set free
That I’ve left a part of MY LOVE behind
In hearts… as it should be
That I have made a difference
And left some light to shine
That people will remember me
And know, that light is mine
I want to know when I am gone
That healing, I had brought
And it will continue after me
As beautifully as it ought
Please let my absence be worthy
Of memories lovely and true
Because I made some difference
In inspiring the heart of you.
 
~ Panayiota Ryall
(14 January 2022)
 
Goodnight beautiful world and lots of love ❤ ❤ ❤
 
19 January 22, I wrote on Facebook
 
My son and family left for England tonight... (crying)
 
There is a new world beginning from tonight...
 
I'm off to sleep... Goodnight, everyone ❤
 
January 20, I wrote on Facebook
 
I love and appreciate my Facebook friends so much... you have no idea what a strength you all are to me.
 
I've woken very tearful... splitting headache... less than 6 hours assisted sleep... eyes swollen and hard to see through... feeling terrible... but...
 
Your LOVING CARE last night helped me to settle down by just after 11pm.
 
I only wrote, because I felt it was a safe place to share my pain, where I knew that someone would show their care by the morning... it was late, so I was just going to switch off and wait till I woke for the hug that I so desperately needed...
 
But, before I had a chance to switch off, I could already see the acknowledgments being sent and the messages already being written... how did I ever get so blessed...
 
I sat quietly just staring into the screen... I felt like I was on sacred ground with you all... I can't explain it any better than that. I didn't have the energy to respond to each of you individually... I still don't... it's like that post is untouchable, because it was written with so much deep pain... yet also, hope in a moment of hopelessness...
 
I needed to express how I felt about you all before I could sleep... so, although it's not great poetry, this is what I wrote:
 
My God Stood at My Door
© All Rights Reserved ~ www.pattyskeys.co.za
 
My soul felt torn to pieces
This night, I heard they’d gone
Bitter tears rose up once more
Whilst the Light of Angels Shone
I reached out to my friends on FB
To share my hurt so sore
Hoping to find at least one HUG there
Or maybe a little more
I’d hardly posted what I’d written
When comforting HUGS were sent my way
And I was reminded, “I’m not alone”
To face this hurting day
I received each HUG in reverence
Silently and with awe
As the Angels held me in Their Arms
And my God stood at my door.
 
~ Panayiota Ryall
(19 January 2022)
 
Thank you for being my friends
 
No need to respond... I don't feel strong for today, but have started this year with strong feelings that I am going to realise my dreams this year and that I am going to progress and grow and be successful in all that I do... so I have so much still to look forward to... I'll be okay and with you all by my side... I KNOW... I WILL be okay... I love you
 
Later in the day I wrote
 
My son video called from a hotel room in England at 2pm... I immediately told him that the video was not a good idea as the torrential tears burst forth yet again...
 
They were all lying down to sleep... they had not slept well on the plane. They were in good spirits. My poor granddaughter, Ashley was lying next to him, and saw my ugly-cry face, but they were both so sweet about it and kept on smiling and telling me how they'd love to see me visit there in the next 6 months.
 
There is some relief after talking to them and knowing they've arrived safely. They are all dressed up warmly there... 
 
Such a strange world I live in...

I also called for help with getting my house cleaned up today, and a really sweet lady named Yvonne came to assist me.  Just having some order and everything looking clean and tidy again was a huge help and healer!  I went to sleep feeling a whole lot better last night.
 
Thank you for sharing with me.
 
~ Panayiota

There’s just one or two more important (to me) things that I want to write about before ending off this chapter in time, of my mom’s passing.
 
6 November 21 (two days before my mother’s funeral)
I sent a WhatsApp voice message to my new-found cousin Mandy (adapted and expanded slightly to add clarity for the reader of my blog post)
Hi Mandy, something strange happened this morning… my youngest son was looking for something in one of the boxes, high up on the shelves in our garage, (in connection with his car.  Something he needed to give his brother to help sort out his car papers), anyway, that’s all he was looking for.  Next minute he comes through to me with this book, and it’s one that my mom had entered some personal journaling into. He didn’t know that, so why he came through with it, I will never know, but can only guess at.  Immediately, I felt that my mother obviously wanted me to see it, to remember some of the good things about her.  (Strangely, after a quick flip through the front of the book, I went straight to the back to see if there was anything there… no idea exactly why I did that, because there were many pages in-between that were empty). On the 2nd last page in the back of it, there’s and entry entitled “A Message for Those I Love” in her own handwriting.  She wrote this after a dream she had on the 9 June 1992.  Mandy, I believe that you are going to speak at our mom’s funeral, so if you’re interested in what our mother wrote, I can always email it to you.  Thank you so much for agreeing to speak at her funeral on the day that she leaves. I call it her special day, because she was so into reading obituaries, and stuff like that, I think she’s going to really enjoy her funeral-day.  Lots of love to you… Thank you. 
 
I sent Mandy a copy of my mom’s journal entry… her writing was always so beautiful to me.  I know that my mom fantasised about having royal blood and that’s why she spent a lot of time working on her handwriting, to perfect it, believing it would set her apart as someone special… someone Royal… and indeed her handwriting was something special and did set her apart in a meaningful way.

I had shared our mother’s letter with my sister too when I received it. 
 
Earlier, on the 5th November, we’d been discussing via WhatsApp, our strangely empty emotional state after hearing of our mother’s passing. 
 
My sister wrote:
Yeah, with mom, the sadness is over.  But I think of her lying on a big metal table with a tag on her toe for that many days.  (What Shev meant when she wrote this, was that “no matter how you lived your life, you still get to have a label on your toe and then wait your turn to be buried.  The Queen’s body will have to wait too.  A lesson in patience… lol.”)
 
She is so right!
 
Shev continued:
Mandy was asked to speak at our mother’s service, but wasn’t sure what to speak about, so I wrote this following note, perhaps to help her along.
 
I’m so thankful you have been given this task.  My mom would have loved to listen to the good words said about her.  One of my youngest memories would be of her reading sweet obituaries in the newspaper, the ones that would make her cry as she read them to us girls.  I think she would love to be a fly on the wall for her own funeral.  Thanx Mandy. Much appreciated!!
 
Mom would love the whole experience.  If she was sitting in a pew listening, I can imagine she would want to add to some speeches, would critique the flowers, coffin, who talked and who did not, how perfect the tea was laid out and presented and what people would be saying after the service about her.  If they said enough or too little… Haahahaaa!  She would have a ball.  Living her own obituary in a sense!!  At the end, it doesn’t matter whether it was a big or small funeral, you’re not there to enjoy it.  I always think of the three headstones from Logotherapy.  It’s not how you die, but how you live that counts.
 
(My sister had me laughing out aloud, because I had the same vision of my mother enjoying and orchestrating her funeral… as it seems she did in the end… too funny!  Shev always knew how to make me laugh).
 
After Shev mentioned the three headstones from a Logotherapy lecture given by Teria, I asked Teria via WhatsApp to repeat it in her words so that I could include it here:
 
The first headstone: A lament.  “Oh dear, here lies so-and-so, they never really lived.”  (People who die without any purpose and have just struggled all their lives and didn’t make it.
 
The second headstone: “Here lies so-and-so.  May they never live again.” (Because of all the horror that they perpetrated during their lives).
 
The third headstone: The ecce homo that Viktor Frankl encouraged us all to strive towards.  On this third headstone would be written, “What a wonderful person this was and what a positive impact they made on the lives of others.”  And then Frankl said, our mission as an ecce homo community is to reach out to those who can’t find their purpose in life and who are struggling to do so, and to resist and stand against those perpetrators that cause such people to lose their way and have dampened their spirits, to the point of perhaps even crushing it. 
 
Ecce homo meaning:  Behold the man.
 
When I shared our mother’s handwritten letter with my sister, she responded (and I love her response so much!)
 
Wowzer!!  Mom did think about death quite a bit.  I believe she wanted to be remembered.  If you saw the movie Coco, you will see the Mexican’s celebrate the day of the dead.  They put up little booths with mostly orange and yellow marigolds, candles and pictures of their passed loved ones, so no one that has passed on is ever forgotten.  I like that tradition, so next year, will add mom to the list of those that will not be forgotten.  She would have liked that. 
 
My thoughts on what my sister shared
I also know she would like that very much… I identify greatly because when one grows up with the “invisibility spell” cursing their lives (something that I believe is very much part of many adult survivors of child abuse, and I believe my mother suffered from it too), wanting to be seen (as a somebody) and to be remembered becomes an extremely important factor in one’s life and thought processes.  I don’t read obituaries like my mother obsessed about, but I have fantasised over my funeral and hope that it will be a big one also, with many people in attendance.  That would surely prove I was a somebody… I was seen… I was visible when I lived. I have already written about what songs I want sung at my funeral… white balloons for my inner children to be released at my graveside… anybody who wants to speak must be given the opportunity to do so, even if the service takes a good few hours… and it all must be recorded… there must also be a book for people to write their good thoughts about me in , etc.
 
9th November 21 (the day after my mother’s funeral)
My cousin Mandy wrote via WhatsApp re: My mom’s funeral
Today went beautiful and there were so many people there which was lovely.  And there was also a tribute read out on behalf of Jonathan which was lovely. And I used the letter your mom wrote after her dream in my part of it as well.
 
Mandy also sent photos from my mother’s funeral.  It meant so much to me that she lovingly cared enough and took the time to do that for my sister and I.
 
I responded:
How kind of you to let us know dearest Mandy.  I’m so glad she got the send-off she had always dreamed of.  How wonderful! And I’m glad you included the letter she wrote also.  That letter came to us just after Shev and I spoke (with a smile), of her orchestrating her own funeral, so we knew she wanted it read and I’m glad you could do that for her.  Thank you so much and bless you.
 
Mandy responded:
Oh, you’re more than welcome.  It felt right and was quite poignant that it was read at her funeral.  There was another passage someone else read and they also said that they felt she was the one who showed it to them to be read. 
 
I responded:
My mom made sure she went out with a BANG 😊 It’s something I totally identify with for my own “Bon Voyage” day, so I’m really happy for her that she had her “Big Day” and it went off so well. Wonderful, and I’m so grateful to all involved.”
 
The handwritten letter read at my mother’s funeral was on the 2nd last page of her journal… I would still like to write what was on the last page which really hit home to me from a logotherapeutic perspective especially.  I will share that as soon as I have time again... TIME... shew! I have a presentation to present to the Israeli Logotherapy students on Wednesday which I need to prepare fully for... my oldest son and family arrive on Thursday for a visit... so much to do and think about... I'm not sure when I will have time to write here again, but will try soon as I still have so much to share.  I cannot rest until it is all safely recorded here.  I have to find time!
 
Thank you for sharing with me.
 
~ Panayiota

Dreams and Interpretations recorded ~ 9th November 2021
 
DREAM 1 ~ MY MISSING DOG
It was a dark night and I was desperately searching for my little dog, Sweetpea, who had gone missing.  I am frantically crying out, “I can’t find her! I can’t find her anywhere!” I could see other people (shadows) moving about in the darkness… I was not sure if they were trying to help me find Sweetpea, or if they were just doing their own thing.  I felt so alone.  There was another pack of domesticated dogs passing me every now and then in the darkness. They would pause for a few moments and seem friendly and interested in what I was doing, looking at me when they appeared out of the darkness on and off… they could be smiling, but that’s about all they are there for in the dream. Finally, after some time, Sweetpea appears out of the darkness and I scoop her up in my arms, feeling so relieved, I hold her tightly… feeling so much joy in her return.  I vividly hear a voice coming out of her, “I promise it will never happen again”.  Then I wake up.
 
My own Logotherapy Dream Interpretation
 
In real life, I am so comforted by having dogs in my home… it has always been that way.  Dogs give unconditional love and everything I never felt on a deeply emotional level as I was growing up… I believe that subconsciously, and on my inner-child (Patty) level especially, my dogs are able to in some way, nurture me with the “Mother Love” that I never received and forever longed for.  It is through the reciprocating love of my dogs… their unconditional, love and the fact that I am freely able to love them also, that I survive my days.
 
So, I believe that the dream was from my own subconscious dimension and spiritual dimension, created by Patty’s desperate sense of the finality of her mother’s death, to bring a meaningful message forward, to become conscious to me.
 
Perhaps the lost dog and my desperate searching for it was a dreamed-illustration of my own emotional state over hearing of my mother’s passing.  All chances of ever finding my mother’s love were gone for good now… such a finality… a lost lifelong dream… and again, the dog being used in the dream symbolically for the same reason as above in italics.  But the real-life emotions of feeling lost as well as desperately searching for my lost self are evident in the dream.  Although, I still think that the crying out, “I can’t find her anywhere!” is still referring to our mother, but the ‘being lost and alone in the darkness’, and the ‘desperate searching’ were the reflections of my own emotional state after the news of our mother’s death.  When Sweetpea finally returns to me, was I returning to myself?  When I heard the words so vividly, “I promise, it will never happen again”, was that me speaking to myself?  Was that the meaningful message I was meant to receive from the dream?  That our mother was no longer a threat to me… she could not hurt me anymore… I AM FINALLY SAFE.
 
I can “let go” at last.  Words I never thought I would say to myself, but there it is… I can truly let go, at last! Having the lost dog return to me… holding her joyfully and safely in my arms…
 
Coming back to myself… holding myself lovingly in my own arms… promising myself I will never be hurt like that again…
 
I believe that the other dogs of all different shapes, colours and sizes represent all the people I shared about in another blog post, people like Teria, who greatly comforted and authenticated me through how they responded when I told them of my mother’s passing.  (Mostly my Logotherapy family, but also others, such as my sister, Shev, and my daughter) Those dogs kept appearing out of the darkness of my dream… they looked me in the eyes and appeared friendly and almost seemed to be smiling… yes… they cared about what I was going through during that dark time… THEY CARED.  I was not entirely alone in my searching for nurturing answers, symbolized by Sweetpea in my dream.
 
 
DREAM 2 ~ PACKING UP TO LEAVE 
(This dream I dreamed about a week after hearing of my mother’s death, before she was buried.) 
 
It’s nighttime, dark.  People are all over in little groups. I can only just see the ones that are close by but I can’t identify them… I’m too busy anyway… others I can only hear through the darkness (muffled voices, speaking to each other).  We’re out in the open (almost like a camping place at night) I’m aware that everyone is frantically packing to leave… we all have to leave… everyone is taking what is most important to them and their survival.  I’m on my own… I can sense my family nearby, somewhere in the darkness, but they are not with me or helping me, they are too busy with their own packing.  I am very much alone.  I feel the desperate need to hurry up so that I can go on.  We’re not allowed to live there anymore and we have a time limit to move out!  I don’t see houses… it’s like we’re packing stuff scattered around us in the grass and among the rocks, (the grounds surface is very irregular) Our own stuff is closer to us, but mostly hidden in the darkness. We’re just wrapping the stuff in blankets or something.  I feel a sense of desperation to get as much done as possible as quickly as possible… a little fear and trepidation of the unknown darkness that we are all about to walk into as soon as we are packed.  Next minute my youngest son appears out from the darkness with a smaller boy who I’m thinking is my nephew, Matthew, who I think still loves and believes in me like his brother who recently moved overseas. I ask Andrew to help me roll up my bed mattress.  He has no sticky tape or glue, but he does have toothpicks, so he wraps the mattress in bubble wrap and uses the toothpicks to hold it together… the mattress is the only thing I am aware of packing… then I wake up.
 
My LDI of this dream
The darkness in both dreams, I do believe, gives the sense of the emotional state of feeling lost and very much alone, nothing tangible to grasp onto in that moment in time after hearing of my mother’s passing (but also hints of my children leaving the country).  Being blind to what’s really going on around me.  Feeling left out of conversations… not invited to my mother’s funeral, etc.  There are groups of people all around me, but I am alone in my personal struggle. 
 
To cut a long story short, I believe that the meaning message of this dream is that even though I feel so alone in my struggle, as if nobody is really there with or for me, a new chapter has definitely begun… I can let go of past threats and fears at lasts and move on… and I must… there’s no looking back.  Andrew appears, because I believe that he will always need to be with me and is the only one close enough by me to help anyway (he lives with me).  The packing of my bed I believe means that I am sending that at last I can rest.  That I am taking my rest and my peaceful sleep with me into my future… A NEW CHAPTER… unseen… a bit daunting… hidden from sight for now… unknown… but, something I must accept and do!  Walk into the unknown (a world without the threat, or worry, or longings for my mother’s love in it).  I must now trust in the rest and peace at last, that I have to believe waits ahead…
 
I shared this and the last post I wrote, with Teria via e-mail on the evening of the 9th November 2021… She had said that she would like to hear more about my dreams when I mentioned them to her, so I sent them to her, hoping that she might be able to add more value and meaning to my interpretation of them.  Indeed, her response was so powerful to me, that her wisdom caused an immediate shift in my state (attitude modulation that Frankl speaks about).  I’d been in a terrible state of deep depression all week long, due to the fact that my 2nd son let me know two days before my mother’s funeral that they were leaving the country.  This news created so much turmoil in me, as can be read about in the previous blog posts.
 
Note:  I had two ideas (interpretations) on what my first dream could have meant, but both Teria and I agreed that my 2nd interpretation was the correct one, and so I did not include the first here.
 
Teria’s response to my dreams and LDI’s on them
14 Nov 2021
 
Dearest Pan,
 
So wonderful that you can interpret your own dreams!    The second interpretation of the dream of losing and finding Sweetpea being that of losing your sense of self and finding it again, is to me the correct one.  The point is that you have come to terms with the fact that you have to find your solace, the love of your person, elsewhere than trying to find it in the memories of your estranged mother. However angry you felt in therapy at the time for having to give up on
hoping and trying to get your mother to love you, you did in fact bury her.  The friendly dogs are indeed those who have seen and affirmed and given you the confidence that you are what your son, Jonathan, wrote to you at the time:  a darling mother and person in your own right.  What your mother failed to do, you have achieved, and magnificently so!
 
The first interpretation, making your mother a "nice" figure, giving you a message of love, does not ring true.  It is awkwardly connected to the second dream of the mattress you had difficulty in folding up. Even with Andrew's help in the dream, wrapping it in bubble wrap and fastening it with toothpicks, it is not a very successful effort – how easily that wrapping can come undone in trying to carry your mattress - a peaceful sleep with good dreams - into your future.  This to me
says the following:
 
You will always have to carry the painful ambivalence about your mother with you until you are totally out of the darkness of your past. 
 
The second dream was the ongoing preparation for that prospect, one you do have help with.  How Andrew needs you; how we all love and admire you, ever ready to be there for you!  Your mother's death has come like the last chapter of a book that is closed.  But the memory, the sadness of the story, remains.
 
It is a tragic reality that your mother never really loved you as she had the responsibility to do.  She never made amends for her failure. Your life has to forever go on without her.  That was her lamentable choice, not yours.  But you still carry the pain of it.  The wounding remains but alongside it, another and higher type of healing is taking place:  your ability to live a life of great meaning despite what you never had in terms of mother love.
 
The anger at the injustice done to you, however, is something to deal with, especially in terms of not projecting it onto perceived heartless others, like the people who did not invite you to the funeral or the consolation that you felt were not given to you with your mother's death.
 
How difficult not to expect from life what we felt is "owing" to us but, in the face of injustice, to do what life expects from us!
 
Your mother's funeral was no ordinary funeral.  Life was, in fact, protecting you from the hypocrisy of "grieving" over your mother's death or of people "consoling" you in the face of your "loss".  Your first dream shows that you actually have not lost anything, that what you have gained in the face of what you never had, belongs to you. Your achievement of self is your consolation!  You have found your comfort elsewhere, in life itself - in all the love and goodness, the loyalty and love of animals for their owners, the gardens blossoming with the rain of replenishment.  Not death, but life is yours!  You have overcome the injustice done to you.  Death (the loveless absence of your mother in your life) has no power over you anymore!
 
So why grieve; why have mourners to grieve with you?
 
Your mother's removal from your life is simply something that is, at last, over and done with.
 
Why even speculate or dream about where your mother went?  The verdict of heaven or hell is not yours to give.  Her life was tragically off course.  The only way to meaningfully deal with that fact and close the case, is to do the opposite.  Your consolation is that you have chosen and succeeded to live a most meaningful and glorious life. This is what we embrace with you at this time.  It is therefore a quiet time.  Those who love you, simply smile at you. 
 
We are simply with you in a silent kind of a way.
 
Teria
 
This is the line in Teria’s letter that awakened my spirit and my conscious to all that is good, beautiful, right, healing and true right here, right now in my life… it is this line that reminded me, and invited me back to my healing strengths.
 
“How difficult not to expect from life what we felt is "owing" to us but, in the face of injustice, to do what life expects from us!”
 
I therefore take this opportunity right now, to apologise for directing my pain, disappointments and anger on others and their church and for allowing myself to become angry in the first place.  I not only let you down, but I let myself down also.  I apologise also to my own spirit, for allowing anger to intrude on my purer emotions, causing me to lash out… to forget who I am for a moment in time… to momentarily sabotage myself and all who I have become.  I cannot allow this sort of thing to happen.  I must remember how far I have come.  I must keep returning to the memories of my incredible Mountain top experience, to remind myself of who I am truly meant to be and to remind myself of my true purpose in life. 
 
I am still sad that my children are leaving, but I believe that I can begin my adjustment more safely and more sensibly now… I can’t promise there won’t be tears… THERE WILL BE TEARS! But I will cope better now that Teria has assisted me in coming back to myself... to where I should be.
 
Note:  I am not speculating where my mother has gone at all.  I KNOW WITHOUT DOUBT that she has gone to Heaven.  She was also a child abuse sufferer and she also suffered all her life as a result.  Yes, I do believe she did very much wrong to her children, but I am definitely not her judge… only God Himself knows her full story and only He can decide her Heavenly state.  But from my side, I believe that she is in Heaven and I have not questioned that belief for even a moment.  I needed to make that very clear.
 
The blue-backed quote I’ve included with this blog post and Teria’s letter prompted me to write the following poem today.
 
My Ever-Enduring Faith
© All rights reserved
 
I’ve been hanging by a thread again
Cutting blows returned from my past
Alone without air to breathe
Back in my dungeon
Dark and cold
Scorching heat
Hard stone walls
No resting seat
No comfort in the darkness here
A place of solitude
A place of fear
Endless hours
Pouring tears…
 
A tiny window high up on the wall
Where a gentle, glowing light clings true
Calling me to a more transcendent view
Beyond this darkness
Beyond these walls
Beyond this pain
LIFE calls
Go on – Go on
Never give up!
 
Where my hope seems to have given up
I pass the torch on
to my ever-enduring faith
It's there that it will remember it’s light
And forever banish the darkness of night.
 
~ Panayiota Ryall
(16 November 2021)
 
Thank you for being with me on this phase of my life’s journey.  I’d really appreciate knowing you were here.  Please “Like” my posts if you read them, even the ones that you don’t like… I just want to know you were here and took the time to read what I shared.
 
Thank you so much.
 
~ Panayiota

14 November 21
Still in a lingering depression about my children leaving and having to leave their dogs behind in new homes too.  Feeling heartbroken.  Will their dogs be split up… will they be loved and treated kindly as they have been? My son’s dogs are used to sleeping in their children’s beds… what will happen to them when they go to their new homes? What if they have to be outside dogs in their new homes… the thought is unbearable to me.  I can’t shake my sadness and pain, especially for the dogs.  And who would I be able to turn to for comfort, computer help, playdate visits with my dogs, etc. when my children are all gone?  This sadness is so unbearably deep right now.
 
Coral, a Logotherapy colleague of mine wrote today
Hope you find peace soon. This sounds, one way or another, like a significant loss. Lots of love and call if you'd like to talk/email, I'm here.
 
I responded
Losing my mom wasn't the problem. even though I’m aware that it would have definitely caused some deeper foundational vibrations on the different levels of me, (which must surely be complicating my emotional state), but what is causing my depression is rather, to be told two days before her funeral that my son, daughter-in-law and three of my grandchildren are leaving the country around February next year.  My daughter and her husband have also been speaking about leaving, so now I have to worry about them all leaving.  That's what's set me back... I DON'T DO GOODBYES!  I feel I will have no-one to call on anymore... and nowhere to go visit with my dogs once they are gone... my grandchildren will be so far away... (who will Patty play and laugh with now?) no more special hugs and real-life conversations with them all... their dogs will have to be separated and find new homes and that's creating huge depression in me on an inner-child level...
 
I realise that I am connecting the dog's pain of loss with my own… reflecting my pain onto what I imagine the dogs will feel when their family has left... abandoned… alone… lost… (tears!) 
 
It feels like the most beautiful chapter closing on my life... anyway... I don't want to talk about it, because I need to survive this one! Talking suffocates...
 
Cooking for the nation
Yesterday was another long and distant day!
 
I realise that my problem with “cooking for the nation” has something to do with feeling extremely insecure… preparing for disaster… a survival strategy, and I’m also finally realizing that this act is definitely linked to some kind of “obsessive compulsive disorder”.  When I woke up yesterday at 04h30, I began to cook and water the garden and wash clothes and hang them.  I stayed on my feet until 4pm… just non-stop working!  With 2 ½ kg’s of mince and loads of onions and other vegetables, I managed to make and pack for the freezer, 23 x small portions of breakfast mince (mince, veggies and scrambled egg), and 20 meat patties as well as 2 x 4 portion oven bowls of cottage pie mince… the potatoes will be added on the day I bake them. So, in all, 51 x mince meal servings for the freezer.  I don’t know anyone who can make a little mince go as far as I can and it still tastes really good.
 
When I’m in the “Cooking for the nation” mode, I realise how big (overwhelming) the task is that I’ve set for myself… so many vegetables to prepare, etc. so much to do… and I use so many pots and bowls in the process… my feet ache from all the standing, and it truly feels like I’m punishing myself over the edge, and I can’t seem to stop myself… I am exhausted… but I just keep going as if someone is forcing me to keep going whether I like it or not! 
 
What triggers this state in me?  What part of my past-self is reliving the pressure of forced-work… or forced-survival… the punishments… and what part of me is now self-punishing and WHY?  Or, what am I trying to avoid by working myself to a standstill? Am I trying to avoid painful thoughts and feelings… am I trying to stop the constant crying?  I JUST DON’T KNOW!
 
Messed up day
Today I woke up exhausted, but my granddaughter was going to be speaking at church, so I knew I must be there… I could not miss being there for her… these might be some of the last treasured moments I ever have with my family.  Anyway, I arrive at church and rush in, people direct me to where my family are sitting… I wonder why everyone is looking at me… I feel kind of naked… did I forget something.  By the time I sit down I’m feeling really uncomfortable. I wave at my granddaughter and son at the front of the church facing the congregation, and my daughter-in-law on the pew next to me… I can see them smiling under their masks, happy to see me… MASKS!!!  Oh dear, I had come in without my mask on… oh how embarrassing… that made me feel really bad… guilty as if I’d done some terrible deed… embarrassed and stupid… mother’s stupid idiot child again!  What are they all thinking of me now!   During our sacrament meeting, we were asked to stand to sing the intermediate song… I was too embarrassed to stand… it’s much easier to stay small and hidden when you feel the way I feel sometimes… BUT WHO CAN UNDERSTAND WHERE I’M COMING FROM AT ANY ONE TIME… one day I’m braver, the next, I’m a useless NOTHING again… I can never tell when it’s going to happen… it just happens… DAMMIT!!!!  IT JUST HAPPENS! 
 
After sacrament I went home… then it hit me… the depression returned as it had been on and off over the last week or so… the exhaustion from the day before combined with the embarrassment of the morning… I was totally messed for the rest of the day.  A migraine from hell set in and I felt totally drained and physically ill… I could barely move for hours and hours… just slumped in the chair in front of the TV.  Eventually I took medication and that finally kicked in, so I don’t have such a big headache now.
 
2 nightmares
I had two nightmares after hearing of my mother’s passing, and I did Logotherapy Dream Interpretations on them, which I hope to share with you all tomorrow.  My mentor Teria said she’d be interested in reading about them, so, I sent them to her, and sometime this afternoon, I read an email response from her on them which I felt too ill at the time to respond to.  Teria’s wonderful (as always) response, has already started to lift me somewhat above my BIG SLUMP of today… that is why I am able to write here right now, before I go to sleep.  Her wisdom is so healing to me… I am so grateful for the tremendous, healing strength she has been in my life. 
 
Please Hear What I'm Not Saying
By Charles C. Finn ~ September 1966
 
Don't be fooled by me.
Don't be fooled by the face I wear
for I wear a mask, a thousand masks,
masks that I'm afraid to take off,
and none of them is me.
Pretending is an art that's second nature with me,
but don't be fooled,
for God's sake don't be fooled.
I give you the impression that I'm secure,
that all is sunny and unruffled with me, within as well as without,
that confidence is my name and coolness my game,
that the water's calm and I'm in command
and that I need no one,
but don't believe me.
My surface may seem smooth but my surface is my mask,
ever-varying and ever-concealing.
Beneath lies no complacence.
Beneath lies confusion, and fear, and aloneness.
But I hide this. I don't want anybody to know it.
I panic at the thought of my weakness exposed.
That's why I frantically create a mask to hide behind,
a nonchalant sophisticated facade,
to help me pretend,
to shield me from the glance that knows.
But such a glance is precisely my salvation, my only hope,
and I know it.
That is, if it's followed by acceptance,
if it's followed by love.
It's the only thing that can liberate me from myself,
from my own self-built prison walls,
from the barriers I so painstakingly erect.
It's the only thing that will assure me
of what I can't assure myself,
that I'm really worth something.
But I don't tell you this. I don't dare to, I'm afraid to.
I'm afraid your glance will not be followed by acceptance,
will not be followed by love.
I'm afraid you'll think less of me,
that you'll laugh, and your laugh would kill me.
I'm afraid that deep-down I'm nothing
and that you will see this and reject me.
So I play my game, my desperate pretending game,
with a facade of assurance without
and a trembling child within.
So begins the glittering but empty parade of masks,
and my life becomes a front.
I idly chatter to you in the suave tones of surface talk.
I tell you everything that's really nothing,
and nothing of what's everything,
of what's crying within me.
So when I'm going through my routine
do not be fooled by what I'm saying.
Please listen carefully and try to hear what I'm not saying,
what I'd like to be able to say,
what for survival I need to say,
but what I can't say.
I don't like hiding.
I don't like playing superficial phony games.
I want to stop playing them.
I want to be genuine and spontaneous and me
but you've got to help me.
You've got to hold out your hand
even when that's the last thing I seem to want.
Only you can wipe away from my eyes
the blank stare of the breathing dead.
Only you can call me into aliveness.
Each time you're kind, and gentle, and encouraging,
each time you try to understand because you really care,
my heart begins to grow wings--
very small wings,
very feeble wings,
but wings!
With your power to touch me into feeling
you can breathe life into me.
I want you to know that.
I want you to know how important you are to me,
how you can be a creator--an honest-to-God creator--
of the person that is me
if you choose to.
You alone can break down the wall behind which I tremble,
you alone can remove my mask,
you alone can release me from my shadow-world of panic,
from my lonely prison,
if you choose to.
Please choose to.
Do not pass me by.
It will not be easy for you.
A long conviction of worthlessness builds strong walls.
The nearer you approach to me the blinder I may strike back.
It's irrational, but despite what the books say about man
often I am irrational.
I fight against the very thing I cry out for.
But I am told that love is stronger than strong walls
and in this lies my hope.
Please try to beat down those walls
with firm hands but with gentle hands
for a child is very sensitive.
Who am I, you may wonder?
I am someone you know very well.
For I am every man you meet
and I am every woman you meet.
 
https://poetrybycharlescfinn.com/pages/please-hear-what-im-not-saying
 
Thank you for sharing with me.
 
~ Panayiota

I believe I had another message from my mom on the other side yesterday.  I was watering my garden, and my youngest son came to the back door to talk to me.  As he arrived, a white feather floated past my face and landed on the ground just next to me… I immediately said, “White Feather! -- Nana!” and as I said it, a little finch flew over the wall into the lemon tree just behind me, singing it’s little head off as loudly as it could, as if to say, “Yes! Yes! Yes!  You understood!” Then it took off over the roof of the house behind us. 

Life can be so beautiful if we recognise the comforting and reassuring signs that we are sent so often.  When I picked up the feather, I noticed that it was very, very slightly grey in some areas… how appropriate I thought, being sent by my mother.
 
I Googled for the symbolism of White and Grey feathers: 
 
https://www.finefeatherheads.com/the-meaning-of-white-black-and-grey-feathers-a-message-from-the-divine/
 
Excerpts from the article that were meaningful to me:
White feathers come from the purest angels, and thus are messages of peace, love, protection and light. Finding a white feather is a powerful message and blessing from the Divine, and is a sign that all will be right for you soon. It’s also a symbol of cleansing, that whatever negative energy you may have accrued over a period of time is now being washed away, driven off by divine light and love.
 
If you happen upon a white feather during a tough and trying time, be reassured that your angels are watching you, helping you maintain your strength, and that they are working hard to uplift your spirit, protecting you from evil and negativity.
 
The color grey sits in between black and white, which means that it represents the balance between two opposing forces, a neutrality of emotion and energy. It’s a sign from your angel that you are at the cusp of wisdom and knowledge, that you are on the right path to spirituality and enlightenment.
 
Grey feathers are interesting because it’s one of the most direct, but also indirect, messages that an angel can give you. A grey feather means that your angel is telling you that the answer to your question or problem is not a simple ‘yes’ or ‘no: it might just be somewhere in the middle, just like the color of the feather itself.

How lovely I thought when I read that... I just had to share.

Thank you once again for sharing with me.
 
~ Panayiota

11am - 8 November 21
(Written 8th November 21… I’ve been unable to post due to connection problems for a few days now which might have something to do with load shedding in other areas! But my 2nd oldest son did manage to do something this morning (11th November) which has allowed me to catch up on my blogging, still with computer running excruciatingly slowly, but at least I could post)
 
8th November21
It’s a miserably dark and drizzly day here in Gauteng.  Oh, how I love the cool rain though… especially gentle sinking rain.  My garden is being watered deeply and I see that as a blessing from Heaven.
 
I don’t know what the time difference (if any), is between South Africa and England, but my mom’s funeral service should be in progress right now.  It’s 11h42 here in SA… her service stared at 11am I am told.  I wasn’t invited.  That upsets me.  Were they all so convinced by my mother that her children were awful creatures not worthy to attend her funeral!  The same church that had hurt me previously with their judgments… but at that time, I imagine that it was because I was always crying and we were very poor… too poor to be decent folk!  Too poor for their mercy and their grace… and now, once again, judged so poorly, that it feels like the same thing happening, all over again!
 
(Reaching for perspective… pulling myself for a moment back to another perspective… maybe they don’t have Zoom facilities… but someone could have at least offered to try, even on their phone for the sake of the dead mother’s children)
 
Not one person has called me today to offer comfort on the day of my mother’s funeral.  I don’t need the comfort, but it would have been nice if someone cared enough to imagine me alone at home and maybe wondered if I was coping.  I am coping well enough… but they don’t know that… and to me right now, they don’t care.  Do they automatically expect me to be dancing with joy on my mother’s funeral day… SHAME ON YOU ALL WHO SHOULD HAVE CARED ABOUT PATTY, PATRICIA, ME, TODAY!!!  Did you not even wonder how each child might be taking the news? 
 
They are still invisible… they are still so very alone!
 
Patty: (little girl victim of severe childhood abuse) I don’t feel any emotions whatsoever from Patty concerning the death of her mother.  Nothing… Patty can’t cry for her mother anymore… she has no more tears for mommy.  But I can feel her deep sadness and hear her crying ever since my 2nd son told me two days ago that he and family will be leaving the country for good after Christmas.  Patty’s tears are mostly for the two dogs… what will happen to their dogs… she’s heartbroken about the dogs.  Crying for the dogs today.
 
Patricia: (adolescent victim of rape and severe abuse) If you read my book one day and see the picture I drew of Patricia during therapy, you might understand… but, since hearing of our mother’s death, Patricia, still trapped in the brick wall, has finally let go of her protective grip on Patty and my adult self… her hands are flopped to her side and she is sleeping for the first time, with her head against the wall, still sitting upright… she is only disturbed by things like what I’m writing about today… she desperately needs to sleep.
 
My adult self: is unloading a mix of emotions in this blog post and feeling angry! 
(Anger is a stage of grieving… would you allow me at least that without judgement please)
 
I shared my feelings with a dear friend on Facebook this morning
…It makes me even more determined to become all I was ever born to be to prove to this world that I'm not what they believe in their judgements or have been told... I will work hard to become all that my God expects of me... and that will be all that is required in the end ❤
 
Njabulo response comforted me. I am at least, not invisible to him today
But you don't have to prove yourself Pan. You are already that living testimony that you desire the world to see, maybe their perception haven't really adjusted towards you. But truth always comes out with time. And what you truly stand for in this life.
 
Even if I was invited, I wouldn’t have attended and it wouldn’t have been fair to expect me to!  But to have at least been or felt invited by caring compassionate people… surely that would have been the decent, humane thing to do! 
 
But, I had already buried my mother years ago and would not have been able to do it again… I’d already cried all the tears I had left to cry for her:
 
Wednesday, 16 January 2008 ~ Journal entry
Burying my lifelong dream of a perfect mother's love
 
Therapy session today
9h00 – Feeling extremely uncomfortable all over – aching, skin burning and sick headache!  Had to take panados!  Worrying about possible therapy session this morning!
 
The funeral service
Today’s session was one of the most important yet!  Burying my lifelong dream of a perfect mother's love... this dream had affected every part of my life and over the months I've come to realise how unrealistic and unhealthy my obsession has been.  SADLY, IT HAD TO GO!!!  But I know – for the better! 
 
My therapist gently handed me a small transparent plastic box with a lid on it... it reminded me of “Sleeping Beauty’s coffin” ... for some reason I found comfort in that.  She asked me to write a message to my dream mother and place it inside of the little coffin.
 
At the start of the funeral service, my therapist standing by my side, I was feeling very angry.  I don’t know if I was angry at her for not loving me as a mother would, or angry at what she was making me do!  The whole thing felt cruel to me.  I thoughtlessly dug a deep hole, threw the box in, covered it with soil and bashed it heartlessly with the back of the spade as if I was feeling nothing!  I was totally numb by then!
 
My therapist brought me back to the reality of what I was doing by asking me, “What do you want to say?”  In deep “self-suffocated anger”, I snapped back at her, “Nothing!” but I distinctly heard the words in my head, “Goodbye my mommy!  I love you.”  I immediately started to cry and my therapist gave me a quick hug… but I was feeling too angry and numb to really feel it or let it comfort me, so we left the scene and I was not interested anymore… in anything much!  (I don’t even remember what I wrote on the note that I put in the box before I buried it!)
 
After the funeral, my therapist was in a hurry to go to do some shopping I think it was… so I was left alone in my office to get on with my work, with all the turmoil going on in my head… it was like I was still in that cosmic tornado… spinning in slow motion, hardly moving at all and just a slow moving whirling blur… and if I tried to make sense of it, it would suddenly start spinning so fast and out of control that I would feel like it was about to burst out from inside of me to carry me away forever! 
 
Alone with my pain
After my therapist had left, I found a letter from her on my desk and before I had a chance to read it, I just broke down in a mess of tears!  My therapist phoned shortly afterwards and that was a great comfort to me... her call acknowledged to me that she cared and knew how I might be feeling.  She phoned again later in the day to see if I was okay… I can’t remember anything about the conversations, other than a huge sense of comfort I received from her.
 
Every time I thought of the funeral service, I found myself feeling extremely angry at my mother!!!  It was because of her that I was feeling so much pain!  It was because of her that I had lost my dream!  I was having a huge pity party and there was nobody to share it with me!    But, even in my mixed-up feelings of anger and deep sadness, I found myself feeling very-very grateful to my therapist, because I knew that what we had done during that session was ‘right’.
 
PM – I finally went to bed at 21h00, but my racing though and feelings kept me awake until just before midnight!  I lay awake with the sound of my heartbeat pumping loudly in my ears... it was very disturbing!  I felt extremely restless and irritable.  Finally, I was able to fall asleep as a result of my son Jonathan’s beautiful and comforting sms in response to one I sent him earlier:
 
22h59 – sms – I love you Mom, you are the world’s greatest mom.  I understand the pain you must have gone through today in your session, but I wish you would realise that you are the mom you always wanted to have.  I would not want a different mom in a million years.  I love you and think you are the best.  You are not messed.  You are just healing.  I love you, sleep tight, Jonny.
 
The letter and card from my therapist that I found on my desk after I had buried my dream
(I have typed them out as they were hand written and a little difficult to read)
 
Sympathy Card
 
Printed on the outside of the card
 
In thoughts, dreams and memories, your loved one will always live on.
 
Printed inside the card
 
Loving thoughts are with you at this time.
 
Handwritten by my therapist inside the card
 
Dear Pan,
 
This comes with love to let you know that I am aware of your loss at this time.  I have known how hard it is for you to give up your dream of a perfect parent and to start nurturing and taking responsibility for your ‘self’.
 
May The Lord grant you wisdom and faith as He leads you into the joy and peace you so earnestly desire.
 
Love B…
 
I’m alone with my pain today on my mother’s actual funeral day also, just like I was alone for her funeral many years ago in 2008, during that painful therapy session.  Some things have never changed since my childhood.  I’m not in pain over my mother’s death… I’m relieved about that.  I won’t have to worry about her anymore and I know that she’s safe with God and angels… but the people that are burying her today have hurt me… because I feel that they have ignored me… I am invisible to them also… rejected once more by the stand-by abusers and harsh judges of this world! 
 
To be honest though, I would NOT have wanted my mother to attend my funeral if I died before her.  She lost the privilege to cry over my grave a long-long time ago (maybe even from before I was born when she tried to get rid of me then).  But she KNEW her daughters loved her… it was her that denied our love and rejected our existence!
 
We had every right to be invited to her funeral and should have been invited!
 
The End!  14h51
 
Thank you for sharing with me
 
~ Panayiota
 
(Our cousin, Mandy wrote around 18h16 to let me know how the funeral went and sent photos… I really, so very much appreciated that she did that today.  It meant a lot considering the pain I felt all day today and in writing the blog post above.  We are not invisible to her, and I love her so much for that.

On the 27th October, my cousin made contact with me to let me know my mother had passed away the Friday before (22nd October 2021) … my youngest son was just about to leave for work when I received the news.  He went out of our back gate and immediately returned with a plant he found in the car.  The day before I’d been to my daughter’s house, and cut a slip of her sage plant, hoping that I could get it to grow.  When I arrived home the night before, I had forgotten it in the car, so my son was bringing it to me for planting.  It had totally withered and hung limp in his hands.  I immediately planted it in a large pot in my front yard hoping it would still grow. 
 
Of course, I am always looking for and receiving, Heavenly signs in everything that happens in my life.  I feel that my connection with Heaven is very close and I have never been abandoned by Heaven, no matter what I have been through in this world, I have always felt that I was being watched over and protected by Heaven.

​I looked up the spiritual meanings of a sage (Latin: salvia)
The symbolic meaning of sage is connected to good health, wisdom and long life.  Burning sage is part of a spiritual ritual to cleanse a person or a place which helps to promote healing and increase wisdom.  Sage is known as a symbol of the connection to higher knowledge and the divine. The name “sage” means, “To feel healthy”.
 
My presentation ~ “To Dream the Impossible Dream”
On the 14th October 2021, I did what I consider to be, one of my most important presentations via Zoom to students and trainers of Logotherapy around the world.  I gave myself a voice on that day and discussed the source of my greatest sadness.  I was aware, that my voice, was still held back (as always) by my extreme lack of confidence and self-consciousness!  I stammered over my words, went blank mid-sentences and had to fight my way back each time, to keep going… I even went blank and lost my place a number of times… BUT… I did not let it stop me from doing my best to share this part of my story with those listening… with the world, as I believe I was born to do!
 
Link to my presentation: 
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=is0w78dw7P8&list=PLIBwb2qTFP5n0AKlecTgxPo4HpZeUBr9l&index=13
 
This presentation and another posted to YouTube can both be found at the bottom of the website www.vfisa.co.za on the YouTube Playlist there. 
 
My other presentation is called, “To Reach the Unreachable Stars”:
ttps://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VuVDpye5BLs&list=PLIBwb2qTFP5n0AKlecTgxPo4HpZeUBr9l&index=12
 
Interesting visit to my dad
When I visited my dad, just to sit with him, after hearing about my mom’s passing, all I expected was a quiet time to share peacefully with him.  He’s almost stone-deaf, so communication isn’t really possible. I had no intention of telling him of my mom’s passing in England, so that wasn’t going to upset him.  She had not been kind to him during their time together and after their divorce… he also experienced the same monster in her that his children had known. 
 
But, somewhere during the hours I was there, he suddenly started to talk about his beloved sister who had died in England.  He went on and on about what a wonderful woman she was.  The incredible service she did for the poor.  He told me how loved she was by the parish she belonged to, so much so, that huge crowds attended her funeral, including many of the top clergymen from all around. 
 
How strange I thought, that this conversation came up about his sister dying in England, where my mother had just passed away.  I know he is very close to Heaven already.  Often, he tells my littlest sister that he can hear the most beautiful music… she can’t hear it… so I believe I know where that beautiful music is coming from as the veil between Heaven and earth becomes thinner for my father as his time to cross-over gradually draws nearer.  My dad did not know that my mother had passed away, but I do think he could feel something that made him think of his precious and most loved sister.
 
Who really cares? 
This has been the question since I received news of my mother’s passing.  Even though I haven’t had much reaction at all, there has been very little reaching out to me as her daughter, as if anyone might have really cared about how I might be feeling.  I felt resentful towards people who claim to love me and should have been there for me over the years, but who never believed the stories about the abuses of my past and gravitated towards my mother’s stories about us instead… supporting her.  Those people will never have my trust and will continue to add hurt to my heart, because I loved them so much and needed them to believe in me more… some even family. 
 
But, there were those who did care and did authenticate me at this time… I was not invisible to them… they could see me… they cared.  My dear Facebook friends for instance, but also:
 
Teria sent a voice message via WhatsApp immediately after I’d let her know the news I’d just received:
 
I wrote to Teria at 10h30
Just received news that my mother died on Friday in hospital in England with possible covid… totally numb… no feeling other than a sense of shock… not sure how today will go… going to shower so I can visit Samuel’s Mountain top again… need to go there right now… thank you for listening.
(Showering helps me to feel grounded… the water running over my head helps to cleanse and wash away negativity and I can transport myself back to the mountaintop I loved so much when I visited Israel where I felt so close to my God… it gives me a real sense of peace)
 
Teria, my Logotherapy mentor, dear friend and boss, responded immediately via voice message
Pan, yes, go to your mountain top, because you know what, your mom’s death is… (sigh)… I don’t know how to say it… but it is a blessing.  It’s a blessing.  It’s something over and done with.  It’s a new lease of life to you.  It’s a new commission; a new commitment to lead a life very other than the life that your mom had led.  In some way, that would pass forgiveness to her… that you have not repeated her life, but that you have lived it differently.  In that way, you can make some atonement for what she has done to you and to Shev.  Please, she never really turned… she never really changed and this was the only way to just remove her from the picture, to allow you and Shev to go on with your lives in a much freer, much more released way.  So go to your mountain top, my beloved.
 
How does one respond to such authentication and gentle loving understanding that heals in the same way as the water washing over causing the rising sunlight to shine even brighter on the horizon of my life… 
 
I texted back
No words… only the greatest LOVE and deepest gratitude for you and dear David right now… No words No words No words
 
My Logotherapy colleague, dear friend and occasional and incredible Logotherapist (in dire emergencies) Marylyn wrote via WhatsApp
Holding you… and loving you… What a beautiful soul you are Pan… and the embers of your love are igniting your Mom’s passage to the door of Heaven… your embers are lighting her path towards the door so that she is able to find her way… and the door opens and the love from the prayers on the mountain top embrace her… and she now knows true love… the gift that only you can give her. Go sit with your father… and just be… truly you are an angel sent to us.
 
Monica, a Logotherapy student and friend wrote via WhatsApp
Oh dear, so sorry my dear Pan.  I’m so glad that you have someone who understands your path, having gone through a parallel one.  The way you speak of your mother with acceptance and love – understanding where she was coming from – a place of illness – shows the many life paths you have obviously travelled in order to grow into this incredible person that we all have the privilege of knowing.  Sending you all my love dearest Pan…
 
Coral, a fellow Logotherapy trainer and friend
Pan you are sounding so peaceful.  After a lifetime, what a special place to be, a soulful accomplishment.  Thinking of you.
 
My beloved daughter said after I told he about my time with my dad and how he suddenly started to talk about his very much-loved sister who had passed away in England some years before
It’s like Papou knows xx How special that he would speak like that.  Nana had a terrible life and projected that onto her children… May she at last rest in peace
 
My daughter is so right… my mother did have a terrible life and suffered much cruel abuse as a child through her parents. 
 
I wrote to Sylvia, our complex manager
Good morning, dear Sylvia, please excuse my delay in seeing your email and responding.  My estranged mother passed away in England on the 22 October, but I only heard about it on the 27th and she gets buried at 11am today.  She was extremely abusive to her children and had nothing to do with us for a good few years... long story, but we'd done all our mourning for her over the years already and there wasn't a tear left to cry when we received the news, although we had always held onto our longings for our mothers love, so there was no hate or ugliness involved from our side.  A cousin whom we'd never met let us know and with the news, we gained a cousin and all the love that has been exchanged between us since.  My emotional response when I heard that my mother had died was some quiet shock, but mostly joy and utter relief to know she's safe in Heaven now and I'd never need to worry about her again.  Life can be so complicated.  I'll be happier though when today is over with, and just to know that her body is safely handed over to the protective embrace of Mother Earth.  Have a blessed day, Love Pan
 
Sylvia responded
Good morning to you Pan, how sorry I am to hear of the very sad and lonely life your mother chose to live, without experiencing the love of her children.  I am sorry for the abuse you must have suffered and all the kinds of scarring left behind.  She never knew what she missed without you in her life! 😊 Love, Sylvia
 
And I wrote back
Your kind, acknowledging email is such a comfort dearest Sylvia… You did make me cry, but only because I always cry on an inner-child level when it feels like someone can actually see me and I'm not invisible to you as I was invisible as a child and continued to feel all through my life... the invisibility spell as a result of child abuse is one that always haunts!  Thank You for being such a lovely friend. HUGS, Pan
 
On the 9th, the day after my mother’s passing, I recorded on Facebook
Our 81-year-old mother's body was finally placed in the loving and protective arms of Mother Earth yesterday, and her spirit is at last free and learning about TRUE LOVE in Heaven. I will never have to worry about her again... or wonder where she is and if someone is loving her or caring for her... it is finally over... a new chapter begins for my sister and I and also for our mother... I feel so grateful to our lovely new-found cousin for letting us know about our mother's passing and for keeping us updated along the way.  Mandy has been a true angel in disguise... she is LOVED ❤
 
Many of my wonderful, loving and supportive Facebook friends responded with loving kindness for which I am always so grateful. Helen’s response was one I would also like to record here
So sorry Pan for your loss and all the trauma you have suffered over the years because of your mother and other family factors. You are right, a whole new chapter has opened and hopefully a whole new beginning 🙏 😘 🤗
 
I responded to Helen
Thank you my dearest Helen, this authentication means a whole lot to me right now... you were there and as a result, you know we never lied... you remembered right back from our school days together, even though I could not remember you... but I never lost your name... your name, Helen (surname), was so important to me and I had to find you as a result... and just like my other school friend, twin brother Henry, who also remembered me, right back to junior school, you have become a very close part of my life... your name is forever engraved on my heart... thank you for remembering my sister and I and our wonderful friendship, and for being able to authenticate the abuse we were suffering way back then. It was so good for me to find out in my 50's, that I had a "best friend" in high school, and that I actually did have many moments with you where I was able to smile and laugh a lot. You must have been such a strength to me back then and that's why I couldn't forget your name, even though the trauma of the abuses stole most of my childhood memories and left me only with scattered puzzle pieces and nightmares. I love you dear friend ❤
 
“If I only have this time on Earth with this person, if I may never see them again, what is it I want or need to ask, to know? What is it I want or need to say? I find I come upon others now as if I have just crossed a desert and each of them is an oasis” ~ Anonymous
 
Thank you for sharing with me again today,
 
~ Panayiota

I found out that my estranged mother passed away the Friday before last... I wrote about it on my Facebook page. There were no tears left to cry for her and no grieving left to grieve for her… there was just the emptiness of the hole in my soul that has been there for as long as I can remember, in the shape of a mother who should have loved me. No way to say goodbye to her...

This picture that I saw on Facebook on Saturday, 30th October brought peace to me. It is so beautiful, so peaceful and so lovely. I see it, not as my mother, but my own inner child looking over towards the horizon of my childhood dreams, beyond this world, to a place of hope and peace and love.

​This photograph taken by renown South African artist, Marina Blight, soothed my inner child for which I am very grateful. ❤
 
I wrote the following poem on 15th May, 2018

​Friday, 29th October, 2021 – I posted the following on Facebook
When I checked into FB on Wednesday, after a few days’ absence, I found a message sent on Monday:
 
"Hi, I am sorry to message you out of the blue. I am trying to trace the daughters of Judith ..." (I've omitted my mother's surname to protect her name.)
 
I responded, only to find out that mom had died quite suddenly in a hospital in England, of covid complications and/or heart attack on the Friday morning before.
 
The only connection my sister and I had left with our mom, was the one we knew was someday going to come... the day we received "THE CALL" to be told that she had died.
 
I always wondered what that call would be like and how I'd respond emotionally. I imagined a cold delivery of the news from someone who believed the stories our mother had told them about us. I dreaded that call because I already dreaded a caller filled with my mother's hate for us.
 
But, instead, I received the call from a beautiful young cousin I had never met before. Mandy's delivery of the news was so gentle, so kind and so filled with love... nothing like what I'd dreaded for so long.
 
At first, I felt some shock at the news... numb... but it never progressed from there... there were no tears... I was able to carry on with my day... subdued... sitting quietly... empty of the usual expected emotions when one hears that their mother had passed away. I was surprised at my own reaction to the news.
 
I waited for my (twin-for-a-month, sister Shev (Sharon)), to wake up on the other side of the world to share the news with her. Her reaction was practically exactly the same as mine... We WhatsApped to each other:
 
Pan to Shev: "My peace was almost instant relief. She's in Heaven now... I never have to worry about her again... I was overcome with PURE JOY... Prayed and asked God to please let all our ancestors surround her with LOVE... such joy in knowing that she would KNOW TRUE LOVE & TRUE PEACE at last and could never lie about us again. The only sadness I feel, is for what never was... nothing else."
 
Shev to Pan: "I'm glad you feel such relief. I guess I grieved when she disowned us. My sadness is purely for what she missed out on"
 
Pan to Shev: "Thanks for sharing Shev... we did all our grieving goodbyes a long time ago... there's no grieving left to do anymore... except for what never was... I will never know my mother's love..."
 
Our mom disowned us both after an organised confrontation she attended when I was going through intensive therapy in 2006 for the lifetime of abuses I'd suffered. I was given a voice at last to tell her of the many struggles and the pain she had caused in my life over all the years. I did it without hate or anger... just quietly read what I'd prepared... too scared to look at her, or anger her yet again, so I was so gentle in exercising my voice. She admitted to everything I'd shared with her, except one thing which would have embarrassed her too much to admit to. It was all done calmly... I was asked to leave the room while two therapists debriefed my mom to help her cope with what she had to face that day. So much healing came to me from having been given a voice at last... but as a result of that confrontation, she disowned both my sister and I from that moment on.  I was still in therapy, so I had help with my loss, but my little sister Shev went into a very deep and long depression as a result...
 
You can’t, lie about, or deny, or reject our love anymore mom. There was nothing you could do to stop our love for you and that's why our inner-child anguish has been so searing and never ending! You can't hurt us anymore now that you are gone.
 
RIP, UNTIL WE MEET AGAIN IN HEAVEN DEAR MOM - IN THE TRUE UNITING OF TRUE LOVE BETWEEN YOU MOTHER, AND YOUR CHILDREN AT LAST - AS IT ALWAYS SHOULD HAVE BEEN
 
On the day of hearing of the death of our mother, we gained a truly loving cousin we'd never met yet... there was so much love shared between us that day.    
 
Mandy, we are so grateful to you for letting us know our mom had died... even after her friend insisted that you shouldn't and we didn't deserve to know. We are so grateful to you. Our LOVE for you is FOREVER... I love you so much already  I can't wait to meet you next year ❤

I cannot tell you how grateful I was, just to know our mother had people in her life... friends who cared about her... even if they ended up disliking my sister and I as a result.  I am just so grateful to find out that she was not alone in the last years of her life.  I'm sending out a BIG THANK YOU & LOTS OF LOVE to each and every one who was there for our mother ❤
 
WHAT COULD HAVE BEEN A DAY FILLED WITH SORROW AND ANGUISH, TURNED INTO A DAY FILLED WITH LOVE ❤
 
Heaven watched over my sister and I as always... We were NEVER-EVER abandoned, no matter what we went through in life... God was there... He was ALWAYS there... ❤
 
Yesterday I spent the day sitting quietly with my dad ❤ It was something I felt I needed to do for the sake of my own heart... My brother-in-law and I agree that he doesn't need to know... why should he receive news of his first wife's death when he already mourned the loss of his beloved 2nd wife. It's totally unnecessary and will just cause him pain.
 
At 90 years of age, I believe he should be surrounded only by PEACE and LOVE ❤
 
A special miracle of love, acceptance and approval from our mother
Something incredible happened the moment I finished releasing the above account to my Facebook page were I so often feel surrounded by the love of mostly strangers who have come into my life there over the years… my Facebook family who I love dearly ❤
 
As I’d finished writing, I stood up feeling so much lighter… relieved… as I always feel after getting everything off of my chest, and making sense of it through writing and recording it safely outside of myself. 
 
As I stood up, I felt a surge of joyous relief come over me and began to sing out loud all the words of the song: “Cabbages and Kings”.  I’d only walked about three steps when I suddenly stopped… shocked at the realisation of what had just happened.  Where did that song suddenly come from?  I hadn’t heard it in a long time… I was so amazed, because this sort of thing happens to me all the time!  I shouted out, “I can’t believe it!”, because I really couldn’t at that moment in time.  I woke my son up in so doing!  I felt totally overcome with excitement at what had just happened!
 
After I told my sister about it on WhatsApp, she sent me this link as her way of affirming me.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_84qYc-Jmes
 
Singing that song took me back many years to a time when my sister and I were children.  We wanted so much to make our mother happy and for her to love us, so we cooked up a plan we were sure would work.  She absolutely loved reading a certain column in our local newspaper every time it came out.  The column was entitled: “Cabbages and Kings!” She’d always be going on about what she read there each time.
 
My sister and I decided to go to the actual place where the newspaper was written.  I don’t remember how we worked out where to find it.  It had to be close to home, I’m sure, as we weren’t brave girls at all. 
 
I only remember walking through a large room… people were working at their desks.  We asked to go to the Cabbages and Kings man, so someone directed us to him and when we got to him, we let him know what we’d come for.  We asked him if he could please help us to find our mother a man for Christmas, so she wouldn’t be lonely for the holidays!  He must have laughed… I don’t remember much more of that day, but our mother related later, that she was at work, holding her copy of the newspaper in her hands, waiting for a spare moment to read her favourite column.  Next minute she was called to the phone… a man, offering to take her out for Christmas.  She said she was so confused and call after call, she told the hopeful men, that she had other plans for Christmas.  She said that she nearly fainted as she sat at her desk, opened her newspaper to her “Cabbages and Kings” column, to try and work out what on earth was going on, according to what the men had been telling her, and lo and behold, there was the write-up about the two little girls who had made the plea for their mother to have a man for Christmas so that she wouldn’t have to be alone. 
 
That was obviously a very special moment in time for our mother... it made her laugh and brought her joy, and it must have meant so much to her that we did that for her…

I do believe that she sent me that song, immediately after I’d finished writing on Facebook this morning, because she wanted me to know, that it was ok… she approved… and that at last, she understood it all… she remembered her two daughters and our love for her at last… maybe for the very first time, she now knows, how to love us back ❤
 
I believe that once we get to Heaven, we can no longer deny any truths, especially not truths connected to UNCONDITIONAL LOVE.
 
Rest In Peace dear Mom… Rest in Peace and know now you are loved and have always been loved.  Your daughters never forgot or forsook you as you forgot and forsook us ❤
 
Thank you for sharing with me.  Please watch out for RIP Mom ~ Part 2 which I will post as soon as I have time again.
 
~ Panayiota

A Facebook memory from 11 years ago and what I wrote about Gift then... (I so often think of this old man whose name was Gift... I wish could find him again... I lost contact after we moved... I wonder if he's still alive... I miss him)

I’m sure most of you have heard me talking about our old blind beggar from time to time... stands at the robots near our house... the sweetest old man. We stop to chat when we can, and twice he has sent us a letter to thank us for taking the time to talk to him and to tell us he’s praying for us every day. So today, he came to visit us... I’d given him our address previously, in case he ever needed a rest from his begging... like when it starts raining cats and dogs for instance. His visit with his young lady guide today was so sweet... he prayed for us and blessed us with his loving spirit of goodness and friendship. He mentioned that he wished he had something to give us... I assured him that his loving prayers were the greatest gift we could ask for... we have been so blessed lately, so I know that his fervent and faithful prayers are being herd. To me, this is the true love of Christ... right there in this beautiful old man... what a blessing he is... and what a lovely smile... you cannot help but be uplifted by his smile alone.
 
I know that many wouldn't understand... but even though he's really stinky from standing in the blazing sun begging all morning, I still hugged him when he came to visit, because yes... he really is loved! There are moments in time, where you no longer see the colour of a person... their status... how they are dressed or how they smell... all you see is 'The Pure Love of Christ', and you respond, because it creates Heaven in your life... even if just for a moment in time. God knows I need those Heavenly moments in my life... I long for them always, and when they are given so beautifully and so freely to me... I am truly blessed beyond words, or beyond anything that this world has to offer, and I am left with an overwhelming sense of humility and gratitude 🙂 ❤ ❤ ❤

Thank you for sharing.

~ Panayiota

​Into my Father’s Arms
©All Rights Reserved ~ pattyskeys.co.za
 
Where do I go
When day turns to night
No more energy to fight
No more beautiful light
When hope is fast fading
And there’s nowhere to turn
Left alone to burn
In anguish torn
Oh, to be reborn
In another place
Another time
Were LOVE truly exists
Where there is no doubt
No more wondering about
Alone in this cold-scorching place
Where I live with no face
Invisible and drained
Where do I go
 
Into my Father’s Arms
 
~ Panayiota Ryall
(22 September 2021)