My Poetry, My opinion and a Kalashnikov!

This December the book I have been writing, un-writing, swearing at and crying at finally gets published properly. I have tried self publishing with very little success or skill. A move which should have been thought out much, much better. The result was poor. Now the renouned publisher 'Austin Macauley' have taken my book and turned it into something to be very proud of, in my opinion. Yes, I did pay for the service but the skill they have put into the design of my work is great.

What's it all about?

At the age of three months my Dad decided to leave us for another woman. My mother Pauline was twenty seven years old and my brother Yannis was almost four. At the time we lived in my Dad's mother's house. my Nana, in Portsmouth, England. My mother made the painful decision to travel back to her home town of Swansea in South Wales. As she was the youngest of seven children and with a big age gap to her nearest sibling my mother was treated by her brothers and sisters as an outcast. All except one, Ruby. Auntie Ruby was brilliant and as a kid growing up I loved her with all of my heart. We moved in with Ruby and her husband Herbert in Ceri Road, in the Townhill area of Swansea. My mother put her name onto the Council House waiting list and it was a case of just waiting. As a now single mother with two screaming kids, no job, no money and no education my mother Pauline was very soon smoking very heavily, dating various nutters and just existing, nothing more. Eventually we were given a flat in the old Byron Crescent, again still in Swansea. Very soon after her nearest sibling, her sister Sonia was involved and a friendship of sorts was created. Sonia was a religious snob. She had to have the best hat, best cloathes and be 'seen' by everyone in church. Very soon she had convinced my mother to join her in church. That was how it all started.

After various health concerns and doctors appointments the Social Security told my mother she had to get a job to keep her benefits coming in. The church she was a part of was now going to be her employer. Apart from worshipping six days a week ske was also now working there four days a week cleaning. On her knees cleaning pews, cold hard, wooden pews. Mopping floors, reaching to dust and polish and taking ownership of the flower displays throughout the church.

Still smoking heavily, not eating properly and just relying on God to keep her going. This is how continued for years. Getting ever closer to the parishners in the church my mother very soon fell in love with her Pastor. She knew there was no chance of a relationship, he was happily married with two lovely daughters, however they soon became very good friends. Later on my mothers fellow church goer, Lilie was taken very ill. An elderly lady with whom she had become close, my mother moved in to Lilie's house to try and care for her as best she could. Months past and after a visit from her Solicitor and with her childrens blessing, Lilie told my mother upon her death she would be leaving her house to my mother. After the shock, gratitude and sadness had been dealt with, the thought of having anything of value seemed to give my mother a boost. Another couple of months past and soon the doctor told Lilie it was just a matter of days not anything more before she would pass such was her cancer. On entry into the living room the day after where Lilie was laying on the sofa my mother came face to face with Lilie's solicitor and the church Pastor. Thinking nothing more my mother just carried on her caring duties. Two days later Lilie passed away, my mother, Pauline was devastated. A month or so passed and it was time for the will reading, strangely my mother wasn't told. It appeared after a change of heart Lilie had left her house to the church Pastor unknown to her own children or indeed my mother. When her children started to ask questions it came out the Pastor was also having/had several affairs within the church with various women. Pauline Aleman, my poor mother, was devastated.

A couple of years past and still going to church as much as possible was still the norm. Her health now prevented her from working but worshipping her God was still my mother's goal in life. In 2001 I had a beautiful baby girl, her first grandchild, it gave her a boost and very soon my daughter and Nanny redhouse, (yes my mothers house was red brick), were loving being with each other. On Boxing Day 2004 whilst watching the terrible events that were unfolding due to the Tsunami which killed over 200,000 people my mother told me she had been diagnosed with lung cancer. The next couple of months was just getting up, going to work, going to my mothers and taking her for test after test.

As the weeks past as long as she had her fags, her coffee and the odd cheese sandwich she was happy. Her weight dropped dramatically, her strength disappeared and she grew paler by the day. From being an active 63 year old she suddenly became a little old lady. Come on God do something! Two days before my Daughter Olivia’s 4th birthday my Uncle Ronald, phoned me to tell me to come down to Swansea as he was really worried about my mother. When I got there I called an ambulance and she was rushed to Singleton Hospital. The staff there were amazing I have to say.

They probed, poked and prodded and eventually said her oxygen levels were dangerously low. They put her on a mask and said give her 48 hours and she should be home. That was a Saturday. Sunday she seemed a little better and late in the day I was told that Pneumonia had settled in her right lung. By the Monday afternoon she was in a coma.

They kept her comfortable with drugs and oxygen through the week and then on the Friday I was told that nothing more could be done and it was only a matter of time. They stopped all treatment. By now different members of her church were coming into her hospital room and sitting around her either praying or reading from the bible. I hated it. It was the end of the football season and there was football constantly on the TV so every time one of her church buddies came in I made sure the football was on full volume.

During the evening of Saturday 30th April for the first time in a week she opened her beautiful crystal blue eyes and a single tear flowed like a Tsunami down her cheek. I broke down and cried for hours.

She was looking for her God

I was shattered and alone. No one was with me for support, a cuddle or just even a hand on my shoulder. The next day on my last legs I knew I had to go home, shower and eat and sleep. Not wanting to disturb anyone I slept on the sofa downstairs. At half past midnight the hospital phoned and asked me to attend. Nothing more was said. The 48 mile drive to the hospital was terrible. I was alone, scared and tired.

I entered her room terrified but when I saw her she looked beautiful, peaceful and pain free. She was dead.

The nurse asked me to remove her jewellery and watch and explained what happened next. The nurse was obviously heavily pregnant and so I felt really bad that she should be doing this.

I hugged my mother, I kissed her and I told her I would always love her. I told her Olivia would always know of her and I would always talk about her to Olivia. Where was her God now? A person, my mother gives her life to him but he is nowhere to be seen . There is so much death in the world in his name.

How can such a selfish, uncaring and arrogant entity exist? This is where my downward spiral began. In my book I explain everything that happened over the next few terrible years for me, my spiral in alcoholism and how my friend Julie picked me up and introduced me to professional help. My poetry began to give me a purpose to write, my daughter gave me the strength.