Written for Pancreatic Cancer UK to help fundraise and raise awareness of this terrible illness after losing my dad in November 2020

Running away

Have you ever just wanted to run, run and just keep going?  Away from life, from problems?  from responsibility, work and bills.  Away from school, friends and other people’s judgement.   We all try our best at life, but we all end up at different destinations.  Some are naturally gifted, some are masters of equations, others can spin a fantastic story, and some can raise emotion from their incredible singing.

Today had been one of those days, from sleeping through the alarm, to falling asleep at my desk.  Sleep is hard to come especially when I spend my nights staring at the ceiling.  If Natalie had let me sleep today, I might be thinking clearer this evening.  Rather than holding my throbbing head, wishing I wasn’t lying here.  As everything is in tatters, not going to work tomorrow is appealing.  As friends have given on me, things have gone further downhill.

I’ve sat and diarised my life, and I’ve wrote lists, but things just go round and round.  So, this is it, I need to get off my hamster wheel of desperation.  Put myself first and sort myself out.   We can attend a number of counselling sessions but its only us that can make the change.

I’ve always been bottom of the pile, how do I get to the top? Is education the answer? Or is it more then that?

Days ago, I saw an advert in a magazine, I had dismissed it as who would take a chance on me?   I’ve realised this could be my opportunity to change.  Does it matter if I’m awful? Focusing on my future I must be positive, I need to focus and become the achiever that I want to be.

The Carer

I never imagined I would be doing this. Racing around the supermarket throwing an elderly person’s shopping into my trolley.  Mrs Chubb appeared nice and even sweet, but she was demanding and if I buy a supermarket own brand instead of Cadburys I’ll be in trouble.  Giving back to the community is harder than I imagined.

Giving Mr Smith a morning bed bath, changing his clothes and making him breakfast had become the highlight of my day.  Allocated twenty minutes per patient is not enough.  If I could have less patients and more time with them it would be ideal.

I work a mindless job all week that I can’t afford to give up, and care on a Saturday.   Mrs Chubb, Mr Smith, Mrs France and Mrs Lees are amongst my clients.  If only the care work paid more, as I actually feel fulfilled doing it.  Is caring achieving?  Yes, I think it is.   It’s tough and these amazing people need me.  Patience and ability to listen are part of this job description and not everyone can manage it.

The Administrator

Typing letters and hitting print, over and over is rather tedious.  How am I contributing? Yes, people are getting notified of their appointments and Sandra would still not be able to operate the photocopier. Why do I do this to myself?  It’s easier than taking abuse from Mrs Chubb but I know that she needs me.  Am I needed here? I don’t know.

Happy

I’ve been unhappy for so long, but I knew it was up to me to sort it out.  My pursuit of happiness did not mean finding a man, it was for me to find it elsewhere.  If I hadn’t read that magazine, working for ‘Weekend Care’ wouldn’t have occurred to me.  The fulfilment I feel from helping people is what I need.

My co-workers are not aware of my busy Saturdays. Its my business and they wouldn’t understand.  Life continues, a day at a time but now I’m happy to just run to the weekend rather than running away from my life forever.

Here is my fundraising page if you would like to donate.  Any size donation is appreciated.

Written for A story a day for Pancreatic Cancer UK

Written for Pancreatic Cancer UK to fundraise and raise awareness of this terrible disease after losing my dad in November 2020.

First sentence from  Gloria Mcbreen

Alone

Just as she closed her diary, she heard a voice.  Looking up, the room was empty.  Glancing out of the window all she could see was the meadow. The fruit trees loaded with apples and pears and Freddie the Labrador running in and out of them.  Freddie was alone but appeared happy with his own company.

Mollie had been alone for months, she knew how Freddie felt, a sense of freedom, her time was her own.   Putting on a loose cardigan, she then pulled a brush through her hair.  Time to face the day and find her dog.

An hour later, walking along the high street, Freddie’s tail was wagging with excitement. The large recreation ground up ahead.   A route that Melissa often went every day, she saw the same people going about their daily lives.  Today something was wrong, the bench under the Oak tree was empty.

Wilma

Eighty-year-old Wilma Greene loved the outdoors.  She particularly loved the recreation ground. She would spend hours sitting under her favourite Oak tree.   Today, she had got up as usual and made herself breakfast.  Finishing her boiled egg she stood up and went to take her plate to the sink. As she rose, she felt dizzy, taking a step forward she tripped over the rug.  Lying on the floor, she felt pain in her leg, crying in pain she assumed it was fractured.

A friend in need

Mollie knew it wasn’t like Wilma to not be there, something must be wrong.  Trying not to think the worst she reached into her pocket for her address book.   Patting Freddie, she started walking to Hill Street a short walk away.  Always alone, Mollie was thirty, she hoped she wasn’t destined to be alone forever.

Reaching Hill Street, she looked for the familiar red door.  Finding the doorbell, she rang it, when not answered she became more worried.  Noticing the immaculate front garden, she opened the gate into the equally tidy back garden.  Surely Wilma didn’t maintain the gardens herself.  Trying the back door, she was relieved as it opened.  Walking in, she shouted for Wilma. Seeing her lying on the floor she dialled 999.

“Mollie, phone my Grandson, please, I can’t reach my phone.  The number is next to it.”

Grandson, that explained the garden.

Leaving Freddie with Wilma, Mollie phoned her Grandson.

Liam

Sitting in a cold kitchen chair she waited for the ambulance.  As the door opened, Mollie was expecting a paramedic, instead in walked a dark-haired man. Her stomach lurched, the day had just got better.

“Liam love, I fell.”

“Grandma they will be here soon.”

She watched as he sat next to her and held her hand.

“Liam, this is my friend Mollie”.  She smiled, “You are both single.”

After being alone for so long, she wondered how this worked.  A little lady slips on a rug and her single Grandson meets her single friend.

“Hello Mollie, thanks for looking after her.”

“She wasn’t on the bench under the Oak tree, so I came.”

“You mean the one in the park.”

“Yes, she is there every day.”

“When my grandfather was alive, they would be there every morning.  Now he has gone she continues to sit there.”

“I like it there, it’s quiet and I can think..”

“I agree Wilma, it is lovely in that spot and the park is a lovely place to be.”

The paramedics

Hearing the ambulance arrive, Mollie was relieved that she was going to finally get help.  Racing in with their emergency packs they checked her.  Deciding her leg is fractured they now went for the stretcher bed.

Moving Freddie away from Wilma, Liam glanced at me.

“I’m going to go with Grandma in the ambulance, but would you like to go for a drink tomorrow night?”

Surprised she stammered, “Yes, I’d love to.”

Reaching into his pocket he pulled out his phone.

“What’s your number?”

Answering him, my phone rang, and I now had his number.

“I will phone you tomorrow, and we’ll arrange a time.”

Smiling, Mollie now watched as they wheeled her out of the house.  Following Liam with Freddie she started to imagine tomorrow night.

Diary

Mollie wrote in her diary every day.  Today had been different and she hoped tomorrow she would be able to finally say that she was no longer alone.  Liam seemed nice and she needed that, she needed calm and supportive, she needed a change. Mollie wanted some excitement and tomorrow looked like it would be a better day.

Here is my fundraising page if you would like to donate.  Any size donation is appreciated.

Written for A story a day for Pancreatic Cancer UK

Written for Pancreatic Cancer UK to fundraise and help raise awareness of this terrible illness after losing my dad in November 2020.

Part five of five – Crolly doll – word prompt from Gloria Mcbreen

Alone

I’ve been alone for over a year, and most of that time I’ve been angry at Robert for leaving.  The police hadn’t found his car, it had been decided that he had left me and was leading a new life.  The lockdown hadn’t helped, the police had tried to find him but the case was quickly dismissed.  I should have pursued it and believed in my marriage, but we had been going through a rough time. It was easy to think that he had just upped and left me.

Since learning that Aoife had been watching and listening to me most of my life, last year’s hurt had re-emerged. My husband hadn’t left me, he had been taken.  How can I explain this to the police? They closed the case months ago, how do you get a cold case reopened?

The answer came a few days later. Removing the doll from her box I was desperate for answers.  Holding it tight I closed my eyes, trying to see Robert. Nothing happened, just darkness, disappointed I put her down.

The grey haired man

Later, I was adding sugar to my tea as I saw a grey-haired man in my mind.  I didn’t know him, but I did recognise him.   About a year ago I had been buying coffee as a stranger knocked into me.  Since then, he has always nodded to me in the coffee shop.  Could it possibly be that Roberts captor is hiding in plain sight? Is he watching me too?   Sitting drinking coffee, I thought back to happier times.  I had been happy with Robert until he disappeared, I should have pursued him after the police dismissed his case.  I believed the police officer when he said that he had obviously left me.

Picking up the doll again, I saw the grey-haired man.  I had seen him so many times in the coffee shop, maybe he was known to them.  Glancing at the clock, it was just 3pm, grabbing my coat I needed to know who the grey-haired man is.

Walking to the shop, this last year has been hell, I need answers, it’s a shame that the doll can’t talk as I’m sure she knows where Robert is.

The coffee shop

As the owner told me his name, I stumbled, I had heard of him before.  Robert had mentioned him, but I had never thought that he might have captured him.  Walking back out of the shop, I pulled out my phone and dialled 999 and reported him.

It soon evolved that Rick Hayes owned a large estate and was known to the police.  Soon his land was crawling with police and police dogs.  A few hours later my phone rang.  A undisclosed number, I could feel my heart leap.

“Laura, you found me.”

“Robert, you still at the station, ill be straight there.”

“Laura they are bringing me home, wait there.”

Home

How had this been so easy? A year missing and its now that the doll chose to talk or communicate with me.   Pulling the doll out of its box, I stood it on the fire hearth.

As the police car arrived, I ran to the door and swung it open.  Seeing Robert standing there I was shaking to finally see him there.  Running to him, I held him close, walking into the house the police followed.  Noticing the officers nudging each other, something was wrong.

“The Crolly doll, how long have you had it?”

“Over forty years, but it’s been in a box most of it.”

“Our grey headed man was waffling about a Crolly doll when we arrested him. Do you know much about them?”

“All I know is that my Grandmother bought her for me from a charity shop, we don’t know its history. However, a lady called Aoife in a care home in Limerick made them.  She says that when making them she saw me.  This was before I was born, so not sure why Robert and I are so significant.”

“Well Rick Hayes doll saved Robert’s life.  It is the only reason why he hid him rather than kill him.  Have you heard of the Crolly legend?”

“What legend?”

“It is said that when the dolls were made, close family relatives of the makers would be forever protected.”

“I think I need to talk to Erin, Aoifes daughter”.

Erin must be in her eighties; my grandmother would have been a similar age to Aoife if she was still alive. My parents had both passed away.  The only answer here is that Aoife is maybe my grandmother’s sister.  She did have a sister, but they hadn’t spoken in many years.

A changed life

Pleased to have Robert home and I now have two aunts that I didn’t know existed.  Our family are now back together, thanks to the Crolly dolls.  If only I had pulled it out of its box sooner.  Aoife had spent her life listening to me, she didn’t know that I was her niece.  Things could have been different, but it’s always made me nervous.  Now it sits watching over the room,  the doll and Aoife had saved Robert from a lifetime of torment and possible death.

My life has completely changed, I look at Robert and hold his hand.  I’m never going to lose faith in him again, he is staying, no plans to disappear anywhere. Things have changed for the better even with our creepy doll watching us.

Here is my  fundraising page if you would like to donate.  Any size donation is appreciated,

Written for A story a day for Pancreatic Cancer UK