In this section
I will explain a little about the excruciatingly painful event that led me to
search for a medium through which to express my emotions. Poetry has become my
vehicle, and I find it tremendously comforting to weave together words in the
form of poetry that tells my story.
I will briefly outline my journey and the stories behind
some of my poems.
Born and raised in South Africa, my husband – Brian –
and I had a truly wonderful life, surrounded by family, and with a level of
financial comfort typical of most white South Africans in those days.
Making the decision to emigrate to Canada was perhaps one of the hardest things
that I'd ever had to do – yet I have no regrets (Breaking Away). Canada is my home.
We left in 1987 when our adorable daughter was still a tiny baby.
Saying goodbye to family was nothing short of heart-wrenching. I must
admit that I did feel a certain sense of guilt for 'running away'- as many people viewed our decision.
After a two year sojourn in Israel, we finally settled in
Canada.
About two years later our lives were forever shattered by a shocking
phone call at 5.00 o'clock in the morning. It was my stepfather calling from
Australia to tell me that my beloved mother had committed suicide. I literally
felt as if my heart had been wrenched out of my body. I was thrust
into a living nightmare that would never, ever go away (Suicide).
My mother was a beautiful woman, for whom – sadly - appearance was of vital importance (Masks). The undeniable signs of an aging face
was something she could not tolerate. Nothing other than complete and utter
perfection would do – not only for herself, but also for her daughters – my
sister Helen and me – a legacy with which I have struggled for as far back as I can
remember (Obsessive).
One can never fully recover from such a horrendous event in
one’s life, and I have battled and sometimes literally writhed in emotional
pain ever since this tragic occurrence. (Yearning, Worms, Walk a Day in My Shoes and many, many more).
My life took yet another downward spiral a few years later
- into the blackness of oblivion - when I was diagnosed with
Bi-polar Disorder. Much to my mortification I was hospitalized and
unfortunately had to endure rigorous torture such as the dreaded ECT (Is She Manic?).
Of course this tragedy did not only affect me – it also had a
tremendous impact (both short-term and long-term) on my family, and
the gratitude I feel towards my husband in particular knows no bounds. He has
stood by my side with unwavering support and encouragement, and continues to do
so (Husband). I know how much it hurts him to
watch me struggling - day in and day out - to crawl upwards towards the
light (The River and Challenging)
Sadly, my father and I had been estranged for many years.
Reconnecting a few years ago with this kind, gentle and loving man was a
bittersweet gift that defies description. I once again became his little
“Lulubel” (Dad and Closure) . I adore him.
Though my road in life is often very rocky and filled with
many pitfalls, I have come to accept that I will always battle with the Big
Bear. Acceptance of this fact frees me to live my life with joy when The
Bear is in hibernation, because that is not all that I am. I have a deep
capacity for joy, especially when I listen to music. I have a wonderful
husband, a loving and lovable daughter, a devoted sister (Sister), a few close friends whom I adore –
and let me not forget our precious dog Liam, who knows instinctively when I
need a face lift …err I mean a face lick.
I believe that having this blog will enrich my life in ways
that will surprise me. Thank you for taking the time.
Lesley
