Who was Amy Winehouse?

Don’t forget she was someone’s ‘little girl’…..

I really hate when bloggers jump on the bandwagon when something terrible happens to drive traffic to their blogs.  When a few celebrities recently lost babies late into their pregnancies, a lot of bloggers decided it was a good time to start sharing their own stories.  I can appreciate the sentiment and I do think more women should talk about miscarriages; but I personally made the decision not to share my own stories at that time.  I can understand sending them a tweet of condolence or leaving a heart-felt message of support on their Facebook page but writing a post about your own experiences and turning the attention to yourself stinks of selfishness in my mind.

So, this is why I was reluctant to talk about Amy Winehouse’s sudden death this weekend.  I was sitting in the pub when someone popped by and said she’d died.  We were all in disbelief.  I quickly popped on to twitter to confirm it and sadly it was true.  What saddened me the most is that she was only 27.  I was a bit of a rebel in my twenties, experimenting a lot, pretty much everything, bar injecting myself, but luckily I didn’t have access to the money and drugs that she did, nor did I have to deal with the same pressures.  A lot of finger pointing will go on. Was it the media, her parents, fame?

When I got home last night, I crept up the stairs and poked my head in to check on my daughter who was sleeping soundly.  I don’t know how to put it into words, but looking at her sleeping is the most amazing experience; calming, soothing, peaceful.  It made me think of Amy’s parents, as they would have done the exact same thing and brought a tear to my eye; I’m sure they celebrated the first time she slept through the night, her first birthday, her first steps, her first words, and her first day at school.  She wasn’t always an incredibly talented junkie with too much eye-makeup.

Some of the comments/bad jokes I’ve read on twitter really make me wonder at what point did she stop being a human-being in people’s minds.

Even though her parents knew she was on a path of destruction and the outcome was inevitable, I can’t imagine the pain they must feel.

No parent should ever have to bury their children.

 

Laughing in the Face of Death!

Photo Credit

The idea for this post was inspired nicked from New Mummy’s recent post 5 Reasons I’m Going to Hell, which is all about laughing when you really shouldn’t.  Lately, I’ve been finding myself doing this more and more.  As most of you are aware my 87 year old father in law is terminally ill.  My husband is an only child so we’ve had to relocate his father to a palliative care ward near us and have also moved his mother nearby as she needs constant care.  To be honest this hasn’t been much fun at all.  However, I’ve found myself in fits of giggles on several occasions.

During the first bank holiday in May we were beckoned to their house in Sussex by the district nurse as father in law had deteriorated.  We spent the better part of the day both in their house and at the hospital watching him sleep, focussing on his chest going up and down, up and down and up and down, waiting for it to stop.  Then all of a sudden he bolted upright!  I nearly sh*t myself and it took me all of my powers and a stern inner dialogue to not laugh out loud.  Thank goodness I have twitter on my phone.

At one point during the day, it was suggested that I transport father in law in the car to the palliative care ward which would take a minimum of 2 hours and would involve the M25.  The district nurse had a quiet word with me and said there was a very good chance he could die in the car.  I couldn’t get the film Weekend at Bernie’s out of my head.  I had visions being stuck in the M25 road works with a dead guy in the car!  Could you imagine???

Moving my mother in law has proved the most challenging but humorous at times.  We’ve set her up in a lovely two bedroom flat that is bigger than our house.  We had Virgin TV installed and the remote equates to quantum physics for her.  I spent 45 minutes on the phone the other night trying to explain how to turn it to BBC 1 for the Chelsea Flower Show.  But, the funniest thing was when we got a panic call from her and hubby had to fly over as she’d managed to get it on a paid porn channel or so she claims.  It nearly killed the old bird.

And finally last night, my mother in law has been poorly (dicky tummy) and she has fairly strange toilet habits in the fact she will never turn the light on and always goes in complete darkness.  Unfortunately, she didn’t see that the toilet seat had been left up and sploosh!

In my defence, I think my sense of humour is the only thing that is keeping me relatively sane!