Smiles

Mom and me

Happy Heavenly Mother’s day, to my beautiful Mom

It was six years ago, that I began writing these love letters to my Mom, in the blogosphere. 

‘It has taken a long time, to understand that my Mom’s love will never die.

and finally, after these all years, I can smile, instead of cry.

Victoria Healing ~ 9.5.2021

“One day you’ll realise that your Mom was the best friend, you never knew you had”

‘Mothers never really die,

they just keep the house up in the sky.

They polish the sun by day and light,

the stars that shine at night.

Keep the moonbeams silvery bright,

and in the heavenly home above,

they wait to welcome those they love.’— Helen Steiner Rice

Happy Birthday

Dear Mom, 

Happy Birthday in Heaven

It’s been thirteen long years, 
since you left and went away.
I still love and think about you,
each and every day.

The love that we shared,  
was an unbreakable bond.
I hold you safely in my heart, 
knowing you will never be gone.

Your love, kindness and caring, 
laughs, chats and sharing.
There can be no comparing.

Sadness hits me harder today,
as I remember your birth day. 

 💕💫💕 

“Everything is temporary, but love 
outlives us all”

https://justsayins.wordpress.com/ancestry-and-cultural.../


“Grief, I’ve learned, is really just love. It’s all the love you want to give, but cannot. All that unspent love gathers up in the corners of your eyes, the lump in your throat, and in that hollow part of your chest. Grief is just love with no place to go.”― Jamie Anderson

Smuggling Back to Wales

 

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Mom looking at the stream at the bottom of her garden in South Wales. Home of her (paternal) Grandmother ‘Susan Howells’  Cardiff, South Wales. (1940)

 

DEAR DIARY,

“Grief, I’ve learned, is really just love. It’s all the love you want to give, but cannot. All that unspent love gathers up in the corners of your eyes, the lump in your throat, and in that hollow part of your chest. Grief is just love with no place to go” ~ Jamie Anderson

 

On the day my Mom passed away …

I was too shocked to speak or comprehend, that my life would never be the same.

Would I  ever feel that loved, protected, safe or whole again?

My world had turned upside down and stopped! 

Falling into a cold, empty void of heartbreak and tears. Scrambling and searching to find a ‘safe place’ to store all of this love that I have and will always hold for my Mom. This is the life force and the pulse of my love affair in the blogosphere with “Hey Momma”

My philosophy of life is absorbed from the wisdom of my beautiful Welsh mom and from the most extraordinary love that she exuded not only to me and our family, but all whom she met. 

I had promised Mom that ‘I would trace her Welsh family ancestral roots’ as a legacy addressed to our new generations, yet to come.   

So, a few years ago, after I had come to terms living without her, I began to search for my Mom’s, Mom’s Mom… but that is where I came to a full stop:

‘Gwyneth Jones’ from South Wales? 

W H A T!

A needle in a haystack doesn’t even begin to describe the monumental search I had in store,  but I had made my Mom a promise, that I could not break.

This is where my search into the folklore, legends and history of her birthplace in Neath, South Wales began.

Each day as I’ve researched our Cymru history and culture, I find myself closer to the heart of my great Celtic Mom and all that she had stood for.

Happily, I have found her again, in the silence of sacred mountains, the wildest and deepest of valleys and in the wandering of streams, right back to the memories of my childhood trips to visit my grandparents. And so here I am today, having smuggled myself back to Wales, following in the footprints and spirit of my Mom and our home.

I have met King Arthur and his knights, warriors, goddesses, kings, queens and princesses. It has been quite an adventure! Thank you for joining me. 

WHERE TO NEXT?
There will be more ‘Welsh’ adventures yet to come in a few months time. 

but now, for the next little while, I am going to find ‘my self’ again, getting amongst the great outdoors in the outback of this great ancient land where I live and love today, in the golden heart of Western Australia.

Watch this Space…

X — at Australia’s Coral Coast

 

 

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Mr Grandson, Roxy and Zoonie, around the campfire on Road Trip, Quobba 2019

It’s a Woman’s Job

Its a womans job sweet sparkly on the outside untatamed and wild spiritual soul 22
Image: Unknown 

IT’S A WOMAN’S JOB

Always duty bound! is a Mom and Wife,
to support, her family, for the rest of her life!
Always putting her loved ones, needs first,
always cooking and washing away dirt.

Always caring what her family eats,
always worrying, what’s happening on the streets.
Always too much work to be done,
always others, are having much more fun.

Always the carer, teacher, nurse and friend,
always the one, on whom everyone depends.
Always there when the day is done,
always her commitments keep, coming along!

Always there for everyone’s needs,
always a housewife in thoughts and deeds.
Always too many jobs on her list,
always expectations, she’s obliged to persist!

Always the one, forgotten at home,
always the one, who’s left, all alone.
Meanwhile our Daughters, follow mom’s trends,
pray, tell me? which generation, will this slavery end?

When a man is retired, he sits back to relax!
but a woman’s job never ends and that is a fact!

Victoria Healing ~ 6.8.2015
©It’s a Woman’s Job

Come over to the Welsh side, we’ve got Dragons

dragon sword of truth anne stokes
Image: Anne Stokes. “The Truth” based around the concept of giving trust. The image is full of symbolism. In the picture the woman gives her trust by offering the sword of truth. The hope is that it will be used alongside her. However it is a weapon and in the wrong hands it could be used against her. If this happens she will be hurt, but the dragon will stir, which represents her anger and inner strength.

 

“There was a time when people accepted magical experiences, naturally”

This web-blog has become my voyage of discovery.

as I now begin to trace back my Mom’s Welsh Celtic footsteps to her birth place of Port Talbot, in South Wales. Sadly, as a young child, she had been relocated to Birmingham.

I remember when I was little, that she’d enjoy taking me back to Cardiff, in Wales as often as she could, to visit our folks. I have fond memories of those days. In each of their houses, there were remnants of welsh national costumes, Welsh love spoons hung from their walls, there were so many questions that I hadn’t asked them about their customs and traditions, until now. 

“But How Will I Know My Family History?”
Wales was a land of story tellers, although, unfortunately those traditional lores appear to be dying out. I think that its beliefs and customs have been lost in bleak and scary translations.  Yes, their legends can be deep, dark and spooky. However, in my eyes, they live in the land of ‘moving curtains’ (Their analogy: everyone looks out for each other) … and what about their secrets and magic? bridging between the visible and invisible. 

New Chapter
In this next chapter of my web-blog affair, I hope to unravel their intricate folklore, quite simply. To ensure that our Celtic family heritage is never lost to our new generations.

I began this diary, to express my grief after losing my Mom,  but through writing these poems, now five years later, although the pain is still there, the healing has begun. It’s time to follow the path to find my matriarchal ancestors. There comes a moment, when these two origins have to co-exist.

My Mom was a beautiful pure Welsh Celt, who had thick black hair, deep brown, soulful eyes and the most fragile transparent white skin.

She had a loving wisdom, that was always ‘knowing” 

Mom was one of life’s greatest gift’s to me…

Victoria Healing ~ 5.2.2020. 
Come Over to The Welsh Side, We’ve Got Dragons 

 

 

Superfantastickal

 

poppins with feet on ground bird in flight nan susan .png
Image Credit ~ Mary Poppins

“With your feet on the ground you’re a bird in flight with your fist holding tight to the string of your kite.” ~ Mary Poppins

 

“And who is to teach the child her lessons”?

 

She had magic shining from her smiling eyes,

our Fairy Godmother, enchantress of disguise.

She was Superfantastical,

sprinkled with supermagickal.

 

Tripping the light, she led our way,

all knowing, intelligent, fierce and brave.

Behind her, lights flickered and burned,

spirits of ghost shadows, twisted and turned.

 

Ritual gatherings, were held frequently,

chatting about familial customs, lores and mysteries.

Beyond the mystical of past and present times,

sweet surrenders, of secrets were aligned.

 

Mom and I, held captive and enthralled,

hearing the mythology of olde Welsh Celtic laws.

Her stories held exciting mysterious powers,

we’d listened in enjoyment and wonder for hours.

 

Narrating divine and ethereal perspectives,

were her ultimate, story telling objectives.

Customs long hidden, from our Welsh origins,

trusting, her tales, should not be forgotten.

 

Feelings of expectation, seeped into the air,

Mom and I adored popping in to visit her there.

Ancestral compasses, recovered and found,

when visiting my darling Great Grandmother,

sweet Susan Howells.

 

So precious was she, that my middle name,

Mom had christened me;  is “Susan” the same.

 

Victoria “Susan” Healing ~ 15.6.2019

Superfantastical

rhyme when I was born .png
Image Credit ~ Wonder Lust

 

With fond memories of my darling Great Grandmother ~ Susan Howells.

Born in  Neath Port TalbotWales.  Cwmafan

 

Her life was a blessing, her memory a treasure,

loved beyond words and missed beyond measure.

 

Rhyme Universe
@rhymesvpoetry

 

nan susan ancestor tales badbs cauldron
Image Credit ~ Badbs Cauldron

Time Travels

time travels .png
Image Credit ~ The Time Tunnel is a 1966–1967 U.S. science fiction TV series.

 

There was a flurry of excitement,

as we approached the murky “Tunnel”

Up ahead, a gaping, shadowy hole,

marvelling where, that entry would go?

 

Was there a switch, or a teleport door?

should we stand up, or sit down on the floor?

Psychedelic lights flashing, vividly around

hearing the brrrummms of strange, buzzing sounds.

 

A soft voice was speaking, up ahead,

“this may take a while, for our journey to end”

A long winding passage beckoned and twisted,

as we encountered a new sensory, existence.

 

A bright beam glowed, at the end of the tunnel,

it was the gateway of departure of our ‘times travel’

An instance of silence, as we prepared,

in wonderment about, what lay ahead?

 

Dad would then give, a nod to Mom,

“here is the exit of the Mersey Tunnel, hold on”

The entry point had begun in gloomy Birmingham City,

finally the exit, into Lancashire landscape, so pretty.

 

A great place to escape to, to be beside the sea,

it was a countryside haven of nature’s beauty.

These trips I would make when I was a kid,

to visit my aunty, at the seaside, I loved that, I did.

Victoria Healing ~ 5.6.2019

Time Travels

mersey tunnel
The Mersey Tunnel Entry ~ As I remember

 

As a young child, I looked forward to travelling from Birmingham, through the Mersey Tunnel to visit my aunty Nett and uncle Bob, who lived in Southport, Lancashire.

I grew up thinking that the Mersey Tunnel was a Time Tunnel and a means of escaping the bleak, city life of Birmingham, into a refuge of endless beaches , country landscapes and the smell of salty, fresh ocean air… and creamy, vanilla ice cream.

Rhyme Universe
@rhymesvpoetry

 

Thank you for reminding me David ~

https://davidhopcroft.wordpress.com

Fast, Furious and Deathly Hallows.

In November 2012 scenes for the film Fast & Furious 6 (2013) were filmed in the Mersey (Queensway) Tunnel.[3]  

It was also used to film scenes for Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows – Part 1 (2010).

 

 

by Torch Light

nine right wish will make her shine her light it's me, vinder.jpg
Image Caption ~ It’s Me, Vilder

 

“Use your will,” she urged,

“but I’m so out of practice” I sighed…

“Where had this all gone wrong?” I thought,

feeling like a complete idiot, for sure.

 

In the curious alchemy of our alliance,

my wild child had remained silent inside.

Rekindling of past memories,

i’m so out of practice, it now seems a tragedy.

 

Hiding under covers together, had been a lark,

trading secretive stories in the dark.

In the comfort and quiet of nights time talk,

searching with delight to find out more.

 

Adventures, mystery, legends and myths,

had all been encapsulated into our childhood tryst.

A bright spark of light, shined in depths of soul,

candor and incandescence had glowed.

 

Hearing foot steps walking towards the door,

“Oh no” in consternation, wanting to continue to explore.

As the latch turned, Mom had stood there with a grin.

enquiring “do you know what time this is”?

 

“But it is my wish to find out more,

i would beg, plead, insist and implore.

While trying to look all serious and tough,

Mom would say “Now that is enough”

 

“Hand me that torch, put that book down,

no, don’t give me that frown, or scowl”

Although, secretly I knew, that Mom had been pleased,

to see, that her daughter, delighted to read.

 

My beloved teacher, who had shown me how to spell,

the happiness in our amity, i remember so well.

Victoria Healing ~ 29.4.2019.

By Torch Light ~ Hey Momma

karma eight messages shadow power back remedial massage with madonna
Image Credit ~ Unknown

 

Rhyme in Verse
@rhymesvpoetry
 

 

 

She Let Go of My Hand…

one teacher soul rhythms .jpg
Image Credit ~ Soul Rhythms

 

“Everything seemed possible, when I looked through they eyes of a child. And every once in a while; I remember, I still have the chance to be that wild.”
― Nikki Rowe

 

Every person within hearing range, stopped to look,,,

 

As i was screaming, at the top of my lungs,

in fear, dread and a great panic,

i ‘d squeezed her hands tightly,

knowing that ‘I’ was about to vanish.

 

… but,

She had let go of my hand,

as i was forcibly dragged away, into a foreign land.

I yelled and shouted for her to come back,

as my world turned, into shades of black.

 

Discipline, by fear,

the rule, that they had held dear.

No understanding or care,

kindness was forbidden, to share.

 

“Sit up straight, look at me”

don’t dream of what you want to be.

Look here at the sad and the grey,

learn your alphabet in this repetitive, boring way.

 

Add up these numbers,

no time, for fun, play or slumber.

Speak only, when you are asked to,

don’t do, what you want to do…

 

Pay attention, follow, these rules,

indoctrination, was their tool.

On that first day, my Mom took me to school,

…was when i first began, to feel the blues.

 

Now, i am beginning to see,

exactly where, i’d lost my interest and curiosity,

in the wonders, of life’s magic and its mysteries.

Victoria Healing ~ 21.4.2019

It’s my, Turn

school blackboard michael tomlinson .jpg
Image Credit ~ Michael Tomlinson
 
Rhyme in Verse
@rhymesvpoetry

 

“You will find more happiness growing down than up” ~Author Unknown

 

 

Class sizes in the 1950s and early 1960s were large, often over 30 children to a class, as these were the ‘baby boomers’, children born after the Second World War. There were no classroom assistants, just the class teacher and so discipline was strict. It was quite common for a disruptive child to be rapped over the knuckles, on the buttocks or on the palm of the hand with a ruler.

https://www.historic-uk.com/CultureUK/Schooldays-in-the-1950s-1960s/ 

After, Life

idea 19 one child at glass bekah-russom-231866-unsplash.jpg
Image Credit ~ bekah-russom unsplash

 

Dear Mom,

Somehow,
i always knew,
that, when i was feeling sad or confused,
that you were still here and there,
even in the afterlife, we could not tear…

Our bonds of love, in heart,
were conceived, right from the start.
i can still, feel you at my side,
within any given moment, of time.

i can still, call out your name,
knowing, that you are back here, by my side again.

Somehow,
i always knew,
that you could prove this, to me too,
as you always did and i know that,  you still do.

Victoria Healing ~ 1.4.2019

After Life  ~ Hey Mom

https://justsayins.wordpress.com/ancestry-and-cultural-heritage/