Picture this….

Yesterday was a very special day…it was the day my firstborn entered the word kicking and screaming in her fury of being disturbed, .her little red face screwed up as she screamed, fists flaying , but who wouldn’t having been pulled abruptly into a cold November chill,… as always my daughter made her feelings very abundantly clear , (she never did like getting up early, probably still doesnt to this day)…but that was then, many many years ago now…And yesterday when i awoke in the wee small hours, still very tired from the day before, I lay thinking of that day all those long years ago, ….a large lavender candle flickered and glowed for her birthday in my room, it’s Amber light glowed, bringing an immediate warmth to an otherwise freezing room, it had gone cold in the night, way before the last glow of embers in the log burner died away……

I curled down further under the pile of grey fleeces and my thick fluffy red sherpa blanket, wanting to put off getting up for as long as possible, …I hadn’t slept at all the night previous. Dread of an upcoming blood test…trying to stave off yet another batch of nightmares, plus nervous excitement of whether my daughter would like her gift…A gift so personal to me, A gift which although hadn’t in fact cost a fortune, I had paid dearly for in other ways in its completion….

The day before I had longed to change my mind about posting it, Maybe send her some candles, socks, a journal with an elephant on its leather cover, moneyyyyy, just anything, literally anything, .but the now heavily wrapped gift making its presence all to known as I held it in my hand while I queued up the for once quiet post office….right up until I paid, handed it to the waiting lady, shut away in her glass box, and she slammed down that perspex shutter the gift now out of reach…, well until then I had wanted to claw it back and take it back home with me …..but for the fact I had worked hard on making it….I would have done just that….

The original idea…..

back a few weeks ago I had written here on how I often liked to flick through an old yellow cardboard folder, which lives pride of place amid my meagre art supplies, It holds some of the most precious things to me….half a dozen drawings and water colour paintings, which my dad had worked on……I have great pleasure in looking at each piece, silently, running a hand over one by one, seeing each stroke of brush or pencil that my father’s tobacco stained fingers had made painstakingly… still smelling that tobacco at times, And as my hand pauses a while, i hear his voice, sound of pencils working upon the thick Windsor and Newton paper…..I close my eyes, at once transported back to my childhood, times when it was just me and my dad…

When I opened my eyes again, they at once caught sight of my favourite picture, A work completely done in black ink, a wonderful depiction of a badger in its holt…this has always been my favourite, I remembered dad sat Thursday evenings while mum went to bingo, rolled up cigarette hanging precariously in the corner of his mouth, nine o’clock BBC news playing to no one in particular,,, , there I would lay drawing on the sofa or reading my latest book, my dog curled up close by and my world for an hour or two was sweet and I sucked every minute out of our time…..I went to put the pictures away, I was back however unwillingly from my walk down memory lane….

I hesitated as i went to put the badger picture away, an idea hit suddenly from nowhere,,, in a few weeks my daughter was to be coming up for a visit, plus it was her birthday, Maybe, just maybe, I could recreate the badger picture….just that week before hadnt she asked for a picture, I had sketched….I have never believed my work good enough for sharing, or infact felt like letting them be seen….but then again if this would mean something to her, like my own fathers pictures do me…then wasnt, I in fact being selfish, immediately I felt guilty. I knew now what I had to do….

Bonding with ones subject…

I of course already loved this picture, And had left it out when I put away the rest of dad’s work….Each day I studied it, looked at every detail, became familiar with its lines, each nuance, leaf, twig, blade of grass…..I spent the first week doing this, .. I felt like I was in fact procrastinating at times, putting off the inevitable..but actually I was doing something much more important..I was mapping out where to start, taking away that fear I have of working on a new project, because I’m going to mess it up right???….I’m going to fail…years of being told this had taken a toll..And I was the one paying the price.

I tossed and turned, argued with myself all that week, …leaving myself just one week before my daughter was due to visit, when I here I was not even starting the preliminary sketches, not one mark on a piece of paper…..it didn’t help my stomach was being horrendous, nothing stayed in it, I was exhausted all the time , very dehydrated….I would lay about, any energy was put into cleaning, ready for my visitors, …I was torn with wanting badly to give her this keepsake, just in case I didn’t get chance to give her anything else ever, and just wanting to lay down and let things wash over me…..but one night I remembered how my father looked at me tears in his eyes, after I had asked had he done any drawing of late…..he had been ill for some time, then the tremors began and it had all become impossible….it was obviously devastating for him, And I once again felt ashamed and embarrassed….beginning that very night..

The badger ….

I started on him, after all he was the main character, central figure, and whether it was, that I was over emotional, tired, sick or a combination of the three, instead of fear of my work not living up to my fathers, I if anything felt him close the whole time, watching over my shoulder, not in a troublesome way, but like he was there if I should need his guidance, As a child his hand would cover mine to show me the lines, I felt at once an inner peace, calm as I worked…a hand guided, the badger appeared in fullness before my tired eyes, leaves, twisted ivy branches, Dandelions, dead twigs, followed and each night I sat back with some little pride in my work….a culmination of two people , Father, daughter, making a gift for my daughter, ” His” grand daughter…

No matter how it hurt to sit at the table, I was going to finally complete this , I love my daughter, I love my father….this was for them,….I was bringing all three close, I took strength from this and carried on with a new faith ….when I had the finalised sketch down in front of me…..I looked across nervously at Jesse, picked up my work and held it up for him to view..I knew as much as Jesse is my biggest cheer leader , ( looking very cute in his little skirt , shaking his matching pom poms) he would if nothing else tell me the “facts as they were……holding my breath as he looked across, he smiled his huge wonderful boyish grin….saying Honey “it’s lovely”…..

But this my dears, was only the very beginning, I then had to go over every painstakingly line and curve in black ink, keeping my hands steady, …The hardest part though would always be, the completing of this half finished work, stopping myself giving in to those nagging doubts, that monster who livess over my shoulder spouting doubts at every given opportunity….And while I sat up many nights alone after woken by yet another nightmare working….these doubts filled my head….I had to order ink pens, a frame, pencils, all of which didn’t arrive on time and further hampering my progress, …..one morning after a tired night filled with bathroom visits, not being able to swallow anything , due to acid burning my throat right down into my chest,,,,, , feeling very lost, alone and defeated, I flung my picture aside….hiding it under a pile of books upon the coffee table, trying hard to ignore it…..I managed for all of two days, when Jesse asked on the third day, if I had managed to work on my project…..near to tears, it all burst out in a garbled mess as it often does…..I couldn’t my pens hadn’t arrived and were to be further delayed, the pencils too, ….plus I couldn’t eat…..it was all just too hard, I wanted to give in.I felt unloved, I felt a bloody mess…….he smiled softly and began the long process of emailing all the company’s, then after, we talked for an age, about my work, about dad, just about anything ….I felt better at once, renewed,… after numerous emails from Jesse , everything finally arrived….I stayed awake all night to complete my end of the father/ daughter gift for Becky (my daughter.

As I worked in the semi light of the livingroom,Jesse lay sleeping close by in phone land, comforting, his nearness giving me strength, I felt my father ever present, pushing me onwards,..when I added my own touches to our piece, four big floppy scarlet red contrasting poppies, my favourites and also for remembrance day, I at once felt dad’s approval….. And at last I was done, I signing it from us both…for he really was my inspiration all those nights….I had not infact felt this close to him since being his puppy like follower, as a freckled gawky kid…….Things changed after and conspired against us, I wasn’t to see Becky that weekend, I felt deeply saddened , this illness fills, me with depression and I felt abandoned for a while, until I remembered how close I had felt to my father, jesse, my daughter, text,s to my son back and forth,…. I at once remembered just how much I love these people ….how closeness is in fact a state of mind , not physical…..stay well folks and look out for one another.💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛😙😙😙😙😙😙😙😙😙😙