Viva La Vida.

It came over me quickly.

One minute I was lying on the living room floor, struggling to build a Nasa space rocket out of lego, having fun with Addy, like any other typical saturday evening, and the next, everything had shifted.

That is literally the only word that fits what happened.

And it happened so forcefully, it’s kind of left me a little dazed.

There was a knock on the window, signalling somebody was at the door.

Both Addy and I stopped our laborious building and with some surprise, turned our heads towards the window.

At the exact same moment The Irish One noisily thundered down the stairs at speed, like you would if someone was at the door unexpectedly, belting out a token ‘Who could this be?’

He opened the front door with a flourish.

The fruuuooossssh of sound as the bristles attached to the bottom of the door swept across the laminate flooring dangerously close to my head, was real.

The cold air hitting my face as the door was opened, letting in not only the night air but the gilded light from the street lamps outside, made me sit up quickly.

It was at that moment my heart filled to the absolute brim and I was overcome with… something.

A feeling I don’t really know how to describe.

It wasn’t relief, as relief didn’t feel appropriate.

Maybe…. Warmth.

Yes warmth, warmth is the right word.

A warmth I haven’t felt for a very very long time.

A very powerful and overpowering warmth.

A warmth I miss.

I knew who it was.

Some deep part of me had registered who it was, milliseconds prior to there even being a rap on the window.

A smile that emanated from my soul, rippled out, encompassing my whole being, slowly and precisely took over my face, I felt it there so real, I wanted to lift my hand to my cheek to check.

‘Oh,’ The Irish one mumbled ‘it’s only your brother.’

‘Charming!’ came the vibrant response as he stepped in and the door was shut behind him.

I felt the floor vibrate as it slammed shut, I heard the bristles again, was aware of every single sound, every single smell, absorbing every moment.

‘Hey’ i heard myself say completely nonchalantly, ‘You want a cuppa?’


I watched him as he wandered passed Addy, taking in the lego, the scene of domestic chaos, smiling his infectious smile.

‘Just popping in on my way to work, to see my favourite nephew.’

This is where I stood up to go bang the kettle on, knowing this ritual.

Knowing this ritual.

He says no, I make him one anyway.

And he, taking over the room with his welcomed presence, like always, throws himself backwards on to the couch and says ‘Whats behind number 4, Addy Door?’

Addison jumps up and runs towards him, brandishing a lego train, a shrieking tickle fight ensues.

I have no idea why he would say this, but I actually heard him say this.

What’s behind number 4 Addy door?

It was so normal.

It felt so natural, almost mundane.


….no no no, stay in the moment, stay in the moment…


And I am back.

My elbow is sore from lying tense at a funny angle, I have not moved, Addison is staring at me curiously.

I try to zone out again, remaining completely immobile, barely daring to breathe, wanting so desperately to cling on and immerse myself back in to this alternate reality, if only to see what happens next.

I mean I could actually hear him, I can still smell him, I mean, I can actually still smell him.

Like watching a film, living a photo reel.


I cling on, try to struggle back for as long as I can, and then reluctantly and with a small sigh, I let go.

I turn my head slowly towards the couch.

A small beam of deluded hope catching my breath.

It is empty.

Of course it is empty.

‘Yes Addy.’

‘You’ve broken our rocket.’

I look down in to my hands and through blurry tears, see that he is right.

I sit up, swallowing it all down.

Somewhere between the front door opening and my dead brother sitting down for a cup of tea, so mundane, I have in fact lost contact with the lunar module. It is sitting dejectedly in three pieces on the floor.

‘Never mind, I can build it again.’

I shake my head in disbelief, still feeling the warmth, now mingled with acute sorrow, and limber up my mummy muscles.

‘It’s ok Addy! It wasn’t moon ready! Do you think we need longer landing legs?’


The next few hours pass in a blink of building, dropping, frustration (bloody lego!) and imagination.

Could it be possible though, do you think?

That in an alternative life somewhere, my brother stopping by for a bru on a saturday night, could really be that mundane, that utterly joyous?

… I mean, I could actually feel his presence.

It can only have been seconds…

Or could it be something as mundane as medication, messing with my hormone levels, sending crazy signals to broken wiring.

Either way, it has got me contemplating, while pulling tiny embedded pieces of lego out of my arse cheeks, in an effort to tidy up every single piece, what if we all have different versions of ourselves, living alternative lives somewhere, based on different choices we all made in the past?

What if somewhere, right now, he is still sitting on my couch, burning his lip on my weak tea?

What if I had gone to him ten years ago, when he rang, instead of choosing to live in denial, as I didn’t know how to deal?

What if I hadn’t pushed him away, just as hard as he pushed me?

What if I had known?

What if I had acted like a sister, instead of…


I don’t suppose any of it matters now really, does it?

Because I live in this life.

And in this life, he is dead, and always will be.

I didn’t go when he rang.

I can’t ever change that.

He won’t ever plonk himself down on my couch and play rough and tumble with his nephew will he?

There will never be a knock on the window.

I need to turn off Polar Express and put a wash on.

I also need to stop standing on lego!

My feet are in pieces.

I can still feel the warmth he brought in with him though, and maybe that is all that matters.

Maybe that is all that matters.

‘One minute I held the key, next the walls were closed on me. And I discovered my castles stand, on pillars of salt, and pillars of sand.‘ – Viva La Vida, Coldplay.


12 Comments on “Viva La Vida.

  1. Oh lexy, love to you. Your posts are so moving. I can’t profess to know anything about your grief but hope that you continue to get it out of your head and onto paper as hopefully this helps a little. You keep building those blocks missis 😊😊😊 lots of love xxx

  2. I think there’s so much to this life than just us in it. Those moments of warmth, those feelings where it feels so real. Has to be real doesn’t it? Even if it is just for a few seconds? Especially if it brings you comfort x

  3. I didn’t go when my mum rang either. Xxx

    I had a similar experience where I just knew my mum had visited yesterday in fact. I would describe the feeling as peace but I knew. And I think that’s all that matters. xx

    • Youre right. I want to believe. My therapist disagrees but when you feel it you just know. And it brings comfort mixed with sadness, but the comfort is what matters when we torture ourselves with what if’s and maybe thats thier way of letting us know its alright. Id like to think so x

      • I think it is sad your therapist disagrees actually. I would have thought that an experience like this, which is bringing some comfort of sorts can only help, surely? I know my mum has brought me comfort and peace and warmth at times when I have really struggled. I just know. x

        • I think he thinks its keeping me from learning acceptance. But i do accept hes gone i just choose not to accept i will never feel his presence again. Its the guilt that i struggle with, not acceptance. I also know she has. Love can overcome anything, even death. Hugs x

  4. As usual dear wonderful lady you manage to mix the funny with the sad – the perfect mix of bitter-sweet.

    What ever the will always merge with the future and the present and memories and thoughts will emanate.

    But most of all – the warmth…the warmth is good…I have the warmth when I think of dad and how he would have loved to have been a grandad and how much both my kids would have adored him with the same amount he adored them…

    The warmth is good!

Ah go on go on go on - reply?

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s


Reviews, news and immaterial opinions...


Tales of Travel

Mr Oliver.

Gaming, Music & Movies


parenting anxiety panic love laughter

Madre se aprende

Porque nadie nació sabiendo

A Box of Fluffies

The fluffy and not so fluffy of mummyhood: Memoirs and musings

Victorian Mini

Adventures in Modeling

feeding my intolerant child

Overcoming the challenges of food intolerance

The Tipsy Runner

One step at a time.......

Mum Muddling Through

Mum with more questions than answers


The ravings of a Gay man with a personality disorder and HIV. I'm a catch!

This is me. Fibro. Chronic Fatigue. Depression. The lot.

Life, family, Fibro, Depression, work.

Not Another Mum and baby group

A place for mums to get together for support and socialising


Me & Me Girl (MG) on a mission to change the world, one bit at a time...

Days in Bed

Enjoying Life With Chronic Illness


where three roads meet, there she is standing

Dad Without A Map

Unwrapping parenthood one nappy at a time

Weight Watchers Vegetarian

Vegetarian and vegan recipes and ideas for following Weight Watchers UK

Sarsm's Blog

Quest for humour in my existence

Theplumbum's Blog

Stuff and me


keep going

A Cornish Mum

Cornwall, Lifestyle, Parenting, Type 1 Diabetes Blog

Dear Mummy Blog

The travellings of Bella and her folks!

Psych Circus

Enjoy, Learn, and Erase Stigma!

Bipolarparent's Blog

Bipolar, Parenting, social services involvement but mostly me

Right from the Start

Play, Early Education and more...

HonieMummy Blog

The ramblings & goings on of the HonieHouse, HonieKitchen & HonieLikes

Tales from inside

Our family life


Oscar Relentos


A digital space feat. poetry, art, nonfiction, interviews, and reviews by marginalized creators.


Ey Ey Ey Calm Down!!!

Long Distance Daughter

Support on the journey of caring for aging parents


a day in the life of my sketchbook...

A Mum on a Mission


Mother's Always Right

Life as a mum, uncut

Nothing But Words & Wine

Often Wine Sodden, always Emotional musings of a single Mummy sinking under the housework.

Mum on the brink

Parenting, travel and technology... and more

Living otherwise

another view on how we make it up

A Write Relief... (for PND)

A thirty-something mum's journey through postnatal depression... and beyond!


Just another weblog

MuddlePuddle Home Education

Resource site for home educators in the UK

%d bloggers like this: