Episode 17. Both Sides Now.
Both Sides Now
Rows and flows
Of angel hair,
And ice cream
Castles in the air
And feather canyons everywhere.
I’ve looked at clouds that way.
But now they only block the sun.
They rain and snow on everyone.
So many things I would have done,
But clouds got in my way.
Of angel hair,
And ice cream
Castles in the air
And feather canyons everywhere.
I’ve looked at clouds that way.
But now they only block the sun.
They rain and snow on everyone.
So many things I would have done,
But clouds got in my way.
(Both Sides Now. Joni Mitchell. 1967)
I chose this song as a comment about the rain
preventing the President of the United States of America from
honouring the war dead. Especially insulting, when we bear in mind, the horrors those soldiers had to endure. And it’s title, Both
Sides Now, also helps us to remember the consequences of war. How
no-one ever really wins. We all lose. By now, we should all know, we must listen to each other. None-the-less, life's cycle
keeps going. Life always goes on.
I’ve seen the never-ending cycle of life
first-hand this week. I was honoured to watch my beautiful little
grandson, Elias Lee, forcing his way into the world, holding his
ears, on the 5th of November 2018.
To those who are reading this blog from outside
the UK, this is Bonfire Night.
Bonfire Night (05/11/1605) is when Guy Fawkes hid
in the vaults of The Houses of Parliament in Westminster Palace, to try to blow it up with gunpowder.
So a bonfire baby. A special little soul. I wonder if he’ll be like me? A rebel. A renegade. A fighter. A Black Sheep. He’ll always have an ally in me – no matter what. This of course, applies to all my children and their children.
So a bonfire baby. A special little soul. I wonder if he’ll be like me? A rebel. A renegade. A fighter. A Black Sheep. He’ll always have an ally in me – no matter what. This of course, applies to all my children and their children.
November is a very emotional month for me.
Remembrance Day enables me to think of my grandparents who bravely
defended this country, during the Second World War.
I also remember my great, great Uncle Richard Oakley who fought in the First World War with the Irish Regiment, he later became a Chelsea Pensioner.
Uncle Dick, as he was known in the family, along with his brother Frederick Oakly were prisoners of war. They were kept alive by the compassion and kindness of an old Russian lady called Olga. She risked her life to bring food each day to Uncle Dick and his brother Fred, until they were released.
When the brothers returned home from war, they too saw a baby born. That baby was my grandmother, the brothers insisted she should also be called Olga as a tribute to the wonderful Russian lady who I will never know.
I also remember my great, great Uncle Richard Oakley who fought in the First World War with the Irish Regiment, he later became a Chelsea Pensioner.
Uncle Dick, as he was known in the family, along with his brother Frederick Oakly were prisoners of war. They were kept alive by the compassion and kindness of an old Russian lady called Olga. She risked her life to bring food each day to Uncle Dick and his brother Fred, until they were released.
When the brothers returned home from war, they too saw a baby born. That baby was my grandmother, the brothers insisted she should also be called Olga as a tribute to the wonderful Russian lady who I will never know.
My grandmother Olga, chose to enlist into the
British Army at the outbreak of World War II. She joined the South
Staffordshire Regiment.
Remembering the exciting stories Uncles Dick and Fred Oakley told her, my brave tiny nan would finally see something of the world.
Remembering the exciting stories Uncles Dick and Fred Oakley told her, my brave tiny nan would finally see something of the world.
So at aged 19, my grandmother Olga, was sent to a
gun site in Bristol, where she worked on the predictor machines that
told the ‘ack ack’ guns where to shoot, to bring down the
Luftwaffe. It’s here in Bristol she met my dashing grandfather,
Herbert Victor Cullis, a gunner in the Royal Artillery.
Grandad was
very soon sent to fight in Tunisia, North Africa. He caught a terrible
ear infection and had to be operated on in a field hospital in the
desert. A field hospital is not anything more than a tent. So
perilous was this, I feel truly lucky to have been born.
Every year in November, I sit and quietly remember
these amazing souls. In addition it is the anniversary of Olga's
birthday on the 9th of November. Except we discovered after she
passed away, her actual birthday was on the 14th of November. We never
did find out how the confusion arose.
This Remembrance Sunday sees me living in Wales
and listening to BBC radio broadcast called 'They Are Gone But They
Are Not Silent.' It features poetry, music and archive of Welsh World
War I soldiers to mark the centenary of the armistice.
This broadcast allowed me to remember my Welsh great grandfather, Olga’s father, Samuel Griffiths. I know very little about this man, except he was a blacksmith and he passed away in his early 40s from a lung disease.
This broadcast allowed me to remember my Welsh great grandfather, Olga’s father, Samuel Griffiths. I know very little about this man, except he was a blacksmith and he passed away in his early 40s from a lung disease.
I sit here now, knowing I am from a long line of
ancestors who battled war, famine, disease. They fought and survived.
This makes it very important for me to fight every fight with
gratitude, optimism and hope.
Whatever difficulties I ever face, I doubt I will ever have to contend with the horrors, fears and terrible traumas
all these wonderful people did. And did it bravely.
The cycle of life keeps turning. For my family it
happened because of the unquestioning faith of my grandparents and
great-grandparents that we never ever give up. No matter how
difficult life becomes, we have faith and we have hope and we have
each other.
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