The Black Dog, A Palm Tree And A Flash Fiction

Palm trees are so perfectly designed to survive powerful tropical storms, that even when bent so low as to touch the ground, they straighten up as the storm passes through, stronger than they  were before.

I was nineteen when I first laid eyes on the row of palm trees lining the road leading out of Los Angeles airport.  I had no idea then how many times I would drive along that very road in the decades to come, how many times I would look up at those palm trees, unconsciously thinking that I would need their strength when storms wreaked havoc in my life.

Antigua, Caribbean (c) Sherri Matthews 2015

Palm Trees in Antigua, Caribbean
(c) Sherri Matthews 2015

No stranger to upheaval, loss and grief in my early life, yet a stranger would have thought I had the perfect family life if they had met me in 2001:  three kids, two Labradors, a Chevy Suburban sitting in the large driveway of our dream home, in a family-friendly town surrounded by vineyards on the beautiful Central Coast of California.

But they wouldn’t have known what had gone on before: that we had rented for most of the 17 years we had lived in California and that we had lost our first home to foreclosure thanks to, a) the market crash, and b) the schizophrenic, gun-toting, drug-abusing madman who had made our lives a living hell.

They also wouldn’t have known that it had taken us many years to recover financially from the foreclosure,  and that we would live in our dream home for only two years before the house of cards that was my 22 year marriage collapsed, and my life in California was ripped away from me and my children.

They, and certainly not I, would have known that by 2003 I would be back ‘home’ in England, living as a single mother with my  eleven year old daughter and fourteen year old son with my mother in her home.

Despite regular visits back to England, returning to live in my home country permanently was a very different thing indeed. There was no record of me, it seemed: I couldn’t get a mobile phone or a bank account and I certainly couldn’t get a mortgage even if I had the money for a deposit, which I did not.  I was a British citizen born and bred, but I felt disenfranchised.

So many times I looked down and saw only dry, cracked earth, with no hope of anything growing there.

Greece? Arizona Desert?  No, a path along the West Bay Coastal Walk in Somerset, England April 2015 (c) Sherri Matthews

Greece? Arizona Desert? No, a close up of a path along the West Bay Coastal Walk in Dorset, England. April 2015
(c) Sherri Matthews

But when I had the strength to look up, what seemed to be dead and barren was only a blip in the grand scheme of things, as an entirely different view brimming with possibilities spread out before me.

Coastal Walk between West Bay and Eype, Somerset, England April 2015 (c) Sherri Matthews

Coastal Walk between West Bay and Eype, Dorset, England. April 2015
(c) Sherri Matthews

All I had to do was to keep looking ahead, but that’s not an easy thing when you are worn out and wearied by life.

Blue skies beckoned for my immediate future, however, as I found a nice rental, got a job, made new friends and, to my delightful amazement, met my husband.  He came alongside me, took my hand and led me into the sunshine.

We settled down into our safe and secure family life, but dark clouds loomed on the horizon still, not least of all my daughter’s traumas to come caused by her, as yet undiagnosed Asperger’s Syndrome, leaving her mauled by an educational system that had no clue how to help a teenage Aspie girl, and me bewildered and despairing at my helplessness in trying to understand why she struggled so terribly.

The way ahead looks clear and calm, if we can just have the courage to push through the gate. West Bay, Dorset, England. April 2015 (c) Sherri Matthews

The way ahead looks clear and calm, if only we can muster the courage to open the gate. West Bay, Dorset, England.    April 2015
(c) Sherri Matthews

Then, one morning five years ago,  an ill wind raged.  Getting ready for work, I couldn’t find a pair of black trousers, a pair I wore often, and a fierce desperation took hold, coursing through me like white-hot lava.

I froze, glued to the ground, and wailed in panic as the bedside clock ticked relentlessly, booming louder and louder, taunting me with every tick: ‘You’re going to be late. You’re going to be late. Tick-Tock. Tick-Tock.’

I think it was then that I broke.

Climbing the wall isn't easy when it's covered and prickly brambles and barbed wire. West Bay April 2015 (c) Sherri Matthews

Climbing the wall isn’t easy when it’s covered with prickly brambles and sharp thorns. West Bay April 2015
(c) Sherri Matthews

I didn’t go into work that day and when I returned, I handed in my notice.   I found another job, but was laid off after only 11 months when the boss sold the business.

The ‘black trouser incident’ had changed me, and when I walked out of that office for the last time, I knew that a different path beckoned.  I thought of the creative writing course I had paid for a year before, the materials of which languished on my bookshelf, untouched, because I was afraid.

Did I dare to take a different path, to do the very thing I had wanted to do all my life? Was this my opportunity, waiting for the taking?

Which Way Forward?  West Bay April 2015 (c) Sherri Matthews

Which Way Forward? West Bay, Dorset, England. April 2015
(c) Sherri Matthews

So one cold, winter’s morning, I wrote the first sentence of my first assignment about a walk through some ruins in Crete.  And I kept on writing.

Yet still, when those dark hours strike in the dead of night, I hear the padding of the Black Dog as he sits in the shadows and I know he is watching my every move.

But now we laugh at the missing black trousers for they never appeared again.  In fact, I am convinced that my black cat Eddie stole them as I watch him slinking by in his fluffy pantaloons.

Green Hills and Blue Seas beckon as the path meanders onward. West Bay April 2015 (c) Sherri Matthews

Green Hills and Blue Seas beckon as the path meanders on. West Bay April 2015
(c) Sherri Matthews

It is good to laugh and to share in the goodness of life even at such times. Like the palm tree, when storms crash through, I bend to breaking point, but, by the grace of God, I straighten up again when the storm dies to a whisper, renewed in strength and hope.

And I’ll stand tall as I walk on and let that Black Dog off his leash to fun free, as far away from me as possible.

 *******

Charli’s Flash Fiction challenge this week asks us: In 99 words (no more, no less) write a renewal story that proclaims, “This isn’t the end; I will go on.

She also shared a link to  Project Semicolon ‘which exists to encourage, love and inspire’, providing help and support for those suffering from depression.

‘A semicolon represents a sentence the author could have ended, but chose not to.  The sentence is your life and the author is you.’ ~ Project Semicolon

I cheated a bit with this week’s flash fiction, as I already wrote it for one of Charli’s prompts some months ago, but I didn’t publish it here.  I kept thinking about it for the renewal theme and so went with it.  I should also mention that it is a BOTS – based on a true story.

 Last Train Home

Settling in for the train journey, Jamie plugged in, metal guitar riffs screaming. An hour in, he turned and saw her.

Dark eyes met his, frozen in disbelief. Turning to her new man, she giggled as they sat down in the seats in front of Jamie.

She smirked, then swapped tongues with her man.

Jamie exploded out of his seat, leaping off at the next stop. He caught a glimpse of her staring blankly out of the train window, chewing her nails, looking ugly.

He kept walking, thinking of her boyfriend. Jamie smiled then.

Poor bastard, he’ll be next.

About Sherri Matthews

Sherri has been writing full time since 2011. Currently working on her memoir, 'Stranger in a White Dress', she has been published in a variety of national magazines, websites and three anthologies. Sherri raised her three, now adult children, in California for twenty years and today, lives in England’s West Country with her hubby, Aspie youngest, two cats, a grumpy bunny and a family of Chinese Button Quails. She keeps out of mischief blogging, gardening, walking by the sea and snapping endless photographs. Her garden robin muse vists regularly.
This entry was posted in Asperger's Syndrome, Family Life, Flash Fiction, The Black Dog and tagged , , , , , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

102 Responses to The Black Dog, A Palm Tree And A Flash Fiction

  1. bulldog says:

    I love this post…. the first bit is spell binding… had me glued…. thanks for that

    Like

  2. The looking down, then having the strength to look up and take a breath and have hope is your powerful trademark, Sherri. This is a beautiful post, so very “You” in every sentence. This is your legacy, and your starting point as a woman, a mother, a daughter, a woman…and a wonderful writer. Brava! Bless you, dear Sherri.

    Like

  3. Luanne says:

    What a powerful story you have, Sherri–and the protagonist at the center of it is a heroine for eternity. xo

    Like

  4. I had not read of this part of your story before. It is not easy to reinvent yourself after so many years with another person, in another place. You are indeed like one of those palm trees and you have risen from hard times strong and full of courage. You are inspirational.

    Like

    • Sherri says:

      Thank you so much Elizabeth for your lovely comment. If I can in any way encourage others going through similar difficulties, then I am honoured. You have warmed my heart 🙂

      Like

  5. cardamone5 says:

    You have a real talent for telling your past with beautiful metaphors and a lyrical voice. Keep it up.

    Love,
    Elizabeth

    Like

  6. TanGental says:

    the palm tree link to your life is well done. The flash too captures the memory of jealousy and eventual escape through schadenfreude. lovely.

    Like

    • Sherri says:

      Thank you so much Geoff. After I read Charli’s post about what she thought were the brown palm trees at LAX, while I was writing about my first time in LA and ‘those’ palm trees at the same time, they have been on my mind! And then I caught sight of a little reading about the strength of palm trees and, well, it had to be 🙂 Love your thoughts on the flash 🙂

      Liked by 1 person

  7. There is so much in here. The beautifully woven sentences bring images that break the heart and then uplift and inspire. The world needs women like you – keep looking up and forward; bend and you will not break I am richer for reading this! Thank you for this mornings uplifting post xoxo

    Like

    • Sherri says:

      Hi Pauline! I must come over and read your news, trying to keep up here with the usual myriad distractions! I am humbled by your lovely words and that you were uplifted, and I thank you so much for letting me know that…

      Like

  8. restlessjo says:

    You’re a survivor, girl, and you’re on your way as that writer you always wanted to be. Don’t stop, Sherri! 🙂 Hugs!

    Like

  9. jennypellett says:

    Lovely post, Sherri – very personal. We’re always told to ‘write what you know’ and you do it so well. Your memoir will make excellent reading.

    Like

  10. You’re a survivor and an inspiration, Sherri! There’s no doubt about it, you’ve chosen the right path…press on, my friend, your future is so bright.
    Now…get back to work! I want to read that memoir. 🙂
    The coastal walk photo is stunning. I rarely see such lush green land, so close to the ocean. xoxo

    Like

  11. Amazing to discover just how much strength one has when you come out the other side of a war zone into the sunlight. Strength comes with experience, and you my friend are one strong woman!

    Like

    • Sherri says:

      Yes, it’s a strength we had no idea we possessed nor ever expected to need. Who knew that those palm trees could bend so far wihtout breaking? What a lovely message, thank you so much Bev 🙂

      Like

  12. A really inspiring story, Sherri, and told with such wonderful imagery and passion. I have no doubt that you are exactly where you’re meant to be, and will go on to do great things and accomplish what you’ve set out to do. So looking forward to reading your memoirs. Are you almost finished? Your Flash Fiction is very intriguing, especially as you say that it’s BOTS. xx

    Like

    • Sherri says:

      Thank you so much dear Sylvia, your kind words and encouragement mean so much to me. I am getting closer to finishing the first draft, writing a lot and so getting behind here but doing the best I can! I wrote the flash fiction around the time that my middle boy went through his horrendous break up with his ex…and a similar thing happened to him on the train 😦 I felt better when I wrote about it 🙂 xx

      Liked by 1 person

  13. Amy says:

    Looking back… such a long journey. You are rescilient, Sherri!

    Like

  14. Oh, Sherri. I know I’ve said this many times before but you have such a beautiful gift. It’s like listening to a melodic harmony or a flawless singing voice. Your writing is fluid, enthralling and captivating. Your emotions and feelings come to life in a way that your reader can relate to. I’m just shaking my head over here because I am at a loss for more words to describe how much I love your writing. xoxo

    Like

    • Sherri says:

      Oh Maria, I am the one lost for words having just read your beautiful message, I am just so moved and can only say that I am deeply humbled and thank you so, so much… xoxo

      Like

  15. Charli Mills says:

    You are the palm tree, the green hills and blue sky. You know how to become one with your story, where you’ve been and where you’re going. That is such a gift and with such lyrical lines you take us into the story because we trust that you will share your strength of survival. I’m so glad you walked through the gate, and really — the black trousers is divine intervention! God has a sense of humor. Keep writing through the beaches and the brambles. You have a captive audience. Love that flash — it’s among my favorites that you’ve written! ❤

    Like

    • Sherri says:

      Ahh dear Charli, you inspire me to want to climb that palm tree and those green hills and touch the sky ❤ I am relieved to know that trust is given in the reading of this…we are survivors and we are here to tell the story of how we became so. Ha! those black trousers…it sounds so crazy, yet I felt compelled to share it, because it was a huge turning point in my life, desperate at first but then I came to see that yes, I believe as you do, it was indeed divine intervention. I always say that God must have a sense of humour…he made all of us, didn't he? I'm so glad you don't mind me cheating with the flash. I just couldn't get it out of my mind…and I'm thrilled to know it's one of your favourites. That really made me smile, thank you so much my friend 🙂

      Like

  16. I love the creative nonfiction genre. We take what we can say about what happened and write about it. I don’t think anyone gets through unscathed but it sure helps if we can bounce back from the extreme bend. Sometimes the bad has to happen to make the good just that much better. You are an amazing writer with lots to share now. You’ve been through enough. Now you have the strength to help your daughter and others like her. You get get stronger in those broken spots. Great stories.

    Like

    • Sherri says:

      It’s an honour, I believe, for us to be able to share our stories here with one another and I am deeply humbled by the love, support and encouragement we so freely share here. Writing about those dark times when we have felt so very weak and broken is life affirming and gives us strength as we are reminded of how far along the path we’ve come. Thank you so much dear Marlene for your lovely words and encouragement, my heart is greatly warmed because of them 🙂

      Liked by 1 person

  17. Pingback: The Story Doesn’t End « Carrot Ranch Communications

  18. Thank you for sharing this with us Sherri. The Black Dog may have come but what a path he put you on. You’ve bounced back although life is never easy you still have moments but it is the journey and you are going to make it to the end. Plus you now have all of us sharing it with you and a shared journey is lots of fun.
    Loved the flash. ❤ 🙂

    Like

    • Sherri says:

      Dear Irene, you put it so beautifully…knowing I have you all walking along the path with me makes the journey fun and joyous and utterly delightful. I am strengthened, uplifted and heartened by you all…thank you so much my friend and also I’m so glad you enjoyed the flash, even though I cheated just a little 😉 ❤

      Liked by 1 person

  19. prior says:

    such a dear share here sher (okay cheesy – but those were my first thoughts)
    ❤ ❤
    and that cracked ground photo really came at a time when I was feeling the parched displacement with ya – whew – and you wrote this so interestingly – it felt like I read the entire post in a matter of a few minutes – and went from the rich details of your story to the flash music on the last train! and like the palm tree analogy…

    Like

    • Sherri says:

      Ha! My once upon a time best friend from the time when I was with my American GI used to always call me Sher 😀 You know I always love to read your input and as I wrote this post I was thinking of the flash fiction I was going to write, but in the end I kept coming back to this one. I wrote it originally as a 450 word flash and then made it into 99 words for Charli’s original prompt a while ago which was to write a flash with a specific song in mind. I love the Foo Fighters and so I called it Last Bridge Down and wrote it to Bridges Burning (tried to post the link here but YouTube is playing me up but I’m sure you know the song). Anyway, I tweaked it slightly again and called it Last Train Home. I also wrote it at the time my middle boy went through his horrendous beak up with his ex. Thanks so much mon amie 🙂 ❤

      Liked by 1 person

  20. jenniferkmarsh says:

    Everything about this post is perfection. Always think of the palm trees amidst your despair. One day we will all set our black dog free, roaming wild across the meadows at peace.

    Like

    • Sherri says:

      Oh Jenny Jen Jen…let that black dog run free and let’s run with our arms wide open into the twilight…bless you in that strength and in that peace xx

      Like

  21. What a life you’ve had, so far, Sherri. I think that sometimes God moves in mysterious ways and he probably hid your trousers purposely, so that you’d go off in a different direction that was better for you. Remember what I told you about how I suspected G. was responsible for the varicose vein bursting in Mister’s leg, just to force the stubborn old goat to go to hospital and get his blood pressure/irregular heartbeat checked. It was an extreme life-saving measure on the part of G. as Mister might have easily had a fatal stroke or heart attack otherwise.

    That black dog needs driving out of town, Sherri. It knows you’re a beautiful sensitive soul, and likes to bully you. Tell it to bog off and leave you in peace.

    PS I’m looking at my mini palm tree out of my window now. It’s looking right at home in Sussex today in temperatures of 85 degrees Fahrenheit.

    Like

    • Sherri says:

      Oh yes, at the time I felt pretty wretched, but now I look back and can see that the ‘black trouser’ incident was a defining moment in my life. And I do remember you telling me that Sarah, and thank God, literally, for that divine intervention for Mister. Ahh, dear friend, you are so kind and I thank you greatly for your concern and care of me ❤ I am smiling too as I imagine you looking at your mini palm tree…you must have felt you were in the tropics with those kind of temperatures! Same here, like the height of summer…one thing I insisted upon when we moved was that we put a ceiling fan in the bedroom as I got so used to the gently whisper of them living through the heat of a California summer. Helps me sleep much better 🙂

      Liked by 1 person

  22. I love the analogy (and photo) of the cracked earth where nothing would grow then a quick shift of view, and the possibilities were there. Lovely. Isn’t it unbelievable what a pair of black trousers can do. (Or socks…) Seemingly insignificant things can throw us into a hole that seems too deep to crawl out of.

    Love the flash. (No pun intended.) 😉

    Like

    • Sherri says:

      Oh Sarah, now you know why your sock post resonated with me so much. I knew I was going to write about the ‘black trouser incident’ (which reminds me, I haven’t forgotten about ‘the broccoli incident’ and will be writing about it very soon…! )and then when I read your post, it resonated so deeply with me ❤ No trousers? Mismatched socks? So what! We took that walk anyway 🙂 Haha…great pun! Love that you loved the flash, thank you so much 🙂

      Like

  23. Tom Merriman says:

    Fantastic flash, Sherri… and fantastic post.
    I love the beginning… seeing the light at the end of the tunnel after you’ve gone through it. Inspiration in itself. And I love the missing trousers. I woke up the other morning to find a hole in the pair I usually wear for work and it took an age for me to find another pair as a replacement. Thinking back, that should have been my black trouser moment… but I went in anyway. I have open roads ahead, but I’m tethered and blocked in where I am. I have a feeling the Universe is trying to tell me something, but for some reason I don’t seem to be getting the message through clearly…

    Like

    • Sherri says:

      Thank you greatly Tom, this means so much to me. I am so glad now that I shared about my ‘black trouser incident’ as I can see how it resonates with you and others. I can look back at that moment five years ago and see that it was a defining moment in my life, but at the time I felt too wretched to understand. Now I can see that I had to reach that point before I knew which path to take. But I know that ‘tethered and blocked in’ feeling too well and I know the feeling of suffocation it gives. I feel for you my friend, I really do. Perhaps the timing isn’t right just yet, but keep your eyes on that open road and just keep walking. Soon enough you’ll come to that gate and all you have to do then is to push it open and walk through. Those blue skies and green hills await you 🙂

      Like

  24. The disappearance of those black pants feel pre-ordained somehow. It’s as if the universe wanted your attention and got it. Hard being a mother alone with three little ones. I had only one and I thought I’d fold.
    You made great decisions and a good move to go back home. The rest will be history. It’s wonderful you’ve found your joy: writing. This is a fabulous, heart-warming story. ❤ ❤ ❤

    Like

  25. Rachel M says:

    It must have been really tough when you first made the move back to the UK. How long did it take you to get back on your feet again? I’m amazed the US schooling system didn’t notice your daughter was an Aspie. Schools are usually pretty good at noticing these things and organising for referrals for diagnosis.

    Like

    • Sherri says:

      Hi Rachel. Sorry for the late reply, had to put blogging aside for few days…
      It seems a long time ago now, so much has happened since we moved back here, but once we got into a school/work routine, things settled down so not too long really.
      Yes, I’ve learnt a lot about Aspie girls in my effort to better understand this. It is hard to spot as girls copy learned and socially acceptable behaviour in an effort to try to fit in and so often slip beneath the radar. For instance, my daughter was labelled as shy, but she wasn’t shy at all…

      Like

  26. Life is never the straight and easy path we often wish it was, but then where would be the adventure (and stories) in that? Thanks for sharing both your doubts and courage along the way. (Also the mental image of your cat Eddie wandering about in fluffy pantaloons is priceless).

    Like

    • Sherri says:

      Thank you BT, and yes, you make a very valid point. Nothing is wasted is it, and such stories to share and hopefully encouraging to others in the telling. Haha…Eddie is still wearing those pantaloons, as shamelessly as ever… 😉

      Liked by 1 person

  27. Sherri, I think you’re at your most powerful when you talk about your journey and the doubts and low points you navigated to get to where you are now. I have my own black dog who comes to visit every so often and I’ve had the breaking point too, but like you, it was a turning point, particularly in my creativity.

    Like

    • Sherri says:

      Ahh Andrea, thank you. We certainly have shared many similarities along our different paths, no doubt about it. I hope that your black dog isn’t making too much trouble for you. He needs to join mine for a good, long run… 🙂

      Liked by 1 person

  28. Loved this! There are times we feel broken but then it seems those are the times that set us on the right path…You are hooking me with these challenges and then leaving me dangling along for what’s next!

    Like

  29. Imelda says:

    You are a very good story teller. 🙂 Thanks for sharing your life stories. You are one brave person. 🙂

    Like

  30. Norah says:

    Sherri, you have shared so much of yourself in this post. Thank you. It is a great act of generosity. When your story speaks to me most strongly it tells me of your resilience; of your ability to bend with the wind like the palm trees, and bounce back up again. That you continued to do that through so many times of hardship and adversity is to be admired. We can all draw strength and inspiration from you, like from a well that never empties. Being able to look up to see the possibilities, when it would be much easier to keep looking down and even slip away through one of the cracks is another great indication of your strength. When your black trousers got up and walked away, unable to take it anymore, you stayed and stood defiantly against that which dared to take you down. How wonderful that you did so and made the decision to write your life story. Wonderful for you, but wonderful for us, your readers as we get to share in your story and be inspired by it. I love the pics you have used to illustrate your post. They are a perfect accompaniment.
    And your flash – I don’t know whether to laugh or cry or cringe. Poor Jamie. Sounds like he’s been there before. Surely the girl – based on a BOTS – could not be you.
    Sending hugs your way. 🙂

    Like

    • Sherri says:

      Ahh dear Norah, such a beautiful comment filled with kindness and encouragement for us all to keep going when the stuff of life seems to conspire against us. You have a most wonderful way with words you know 🙂 I am deeply humbled and I thank you so very much, bless you. And as for the flash, I wrote this back when Charli asked us to write a story against a song, some while ago. At the time, I was seething over my middle son’s treatment by his now ex during his horrendous break up from her, using ‘Bridges Burning’ by the Foo Fighters (who I love!) as my inspiration. So now you can guess who the girl is (and most definitely not me!) as this really happened to my son, sadly. I wrote it originally as a 495 word flash fiction and chopped it for Charli’s prompt. I felt a lot better after doing so 🙂

      Liked by 1 person

      • Norah says:

        Hi Sherri,
        Rereading your flash now with the added explanation makes more sense to me. Poor Jamie, it would have been heartbreaking at the time, but sounds like he is well rid of her. I knew it couldn’t be you, and that was why I was puzzling over it. Cutting her story down was probably a good indication of what you needed to do. You had told it in greater detail, then realized she didn’t deserve it. I’m sure that if Jamie has inherited any of your resilience, he has now moved on and is doing very well. 🙂

        Liked by 1 person

        • Sherri says:

          Oh I’m so glad to be able to better explain the flash now Norah, thank you for letting me know that! Perhaps I should make it more clear next time when I say it’s a BOTS but with the caveat that it’s not necessarily about me!
          I wrote a dark poem about that time too, called The Power, which is more typical of the kind of writing I do when it comes to the deeper expression I need when I’m hurting, as I was for my son whose heart was cut to pieces at the time which devastated me to see what she did to him (but believe me, I am no ‘poet’ in the sense that I have ever studied it deeply and in fact I don’t like to read a lot of poetry for the simple reason that I don’t understand it, but I’ve always found it to be deeply theraputic when I’m in stirred up) and felt that gave me a good excuse to get some of my feelings out of the way.
          You are very perceptive my friend! She didn’t deserve the longer story, no way, and I can assure you that ‘Jamie’ has indeed moved on and put that whole sorry past well behind him…but it sure felt good writing this flash, I admit 😉 Mess with mama bear, that’s one thing, but mess with one of her cubs? Well…as I’m sure you’ll agree, I’m afraid that’s a very different thing entirely 🐻 😀

          Liked by 1 person

          • Norah says:

            So true! says this Mama Bear to your Mama Bear! I’m pleased to hear Jamie has moved on, but it certainly would not have been pleasant at the time. Unfortunately we can’t erase their pain, just hold their hand and support them through it. I’m sure he was appreciative of your love, especially at so difficult a time.
            Interesting what you say about poetry. I do enjoy poetry – but poetry I can understand! I used to read a lot of poetry in my younger years, and write quite a bit too, though others may not have considered it poetry. I used to write a lot of my young adult angst out in stream of consciousness, which was quite “in” at the time. I remember reading Bob Dylan’s “Tarantula”, though can’t recall anything about it! (No, I wasn’t on what he was!)
            Is your poem “Power” available for me to read anywhere, or is it a personal outpouring?
            I apologize that I haven’t read your last few posts yet. I have been away for a little over a week and now have lots of catching up to do! I’m looking forward to it. I have missed your posts! “)

            Like

  31. simplyilka says:

    Hi Sherri!

    What a wonderful inside into your heart and soul. I so do understand your black trousers incident. When things are piling up it needs a small thing to make you break down. I was totally drawn into your writing and almost sad when it ended. And I guess I have to thank your Eddie for stealing your trousers and have you start writing 😉

    Like

    • Sherri says:

      Hi Ilka! Thank you so much for your lovely comment and wow, I am so encouraged to know that you wanted to read more, particularly that the ‘black trouser incident’ resonated with you. I hadn’t really intended to share that, thinking it might sound silly, but now I’m so glad that I did! And as for Eddie, yes, maybe I haven’t given him enough credit for getting me on my writing path…I think he’ll be getting extra cuddles tonight 😀

      Like

  32. Sherri, you sweet soul you. I wonder about the black trousers going missing… a sign, somehow, perhaps… and when you shared your touching story with us it had my attention right away. You are such a strong woman and I believe you are now taking the path of which you are meant. I am glad to know you along the route xx

    Like

    • Sherri says:

      Ahh dear Christy, bless you and I thank you greatly for your beautiful comment. How kind you are, I am both humbled and honoured to walk along the path with you by my side, for you brighten my day and warm my heart with your beautiful smile and encouraging, heartfelt sentiments, for which I am truly grateful 🙂 xx

      Liked by 1 person

  33. Heyjude says:

    Missed this somehow 😦
    You and I could have some interesting chats. Ups, downs, heartache, strangers in our land of birth…
    Thanks for sharing this Sherri. I am guessing that the FF concerned your boy?

    Like

    • Sherri says:

      Hi Jude! Ahh…no worries, I’ve been away from blogging since last Thursday due to a bit of a family crisis and only just now getting back to blogging…slowly. I haven’t even started visiting other blogs yet and will be slow getting back to normal here again, but I’ve got just the one to start off with and it involves a bench with a view 🙂
      Yes, we’ve shared a few interesting chats already haven’t we, but those are mere warm-ups. So much more where they came from…and remember, the Summerhouse is always open for you Jude 🙂
      As for the FF, yes, you are right. I wrote it when my middle boy broke up with his ex (you’ll remember that). This really happened 😦 But I felt a lot better after I wrote it 🙂

      Liked by 1 person

  34. Heyjude says:

    And I forgot to add that I love the walk…

    Like

  35. Marie Keates says:

    Your story sounds like a novel. Maybe it will be. The black dog is a tough one to master because he always luks, waiting for his chance. I keep a white swan to chase mine off.

    Like

  36. Ste J says:

    Your experiences and more importantly your surviving has not only had the good fortune to shape you as a wonderful person but to also help others, it is something special when that happens. I am glad the risk of the new path paid off for you and that you could share it, it hasd me tempted to jack my job in now lol. I just hit up ebay in case your trousers were being sold by your cat (or weird creepy bloke) and I found some but they spelled your name with a ‘Y’ as a disguise but you can still get them back!

    Like

    • Sherri says:

      Haha! Oh Ste, you have no idea how much your comment today cheered me up, I’m laughing out loud!!! I knew my black trousers would turn up again one day, darn it, I’ve long suspected that Eddie had an e-bay habit. That weird creepy bloke is probably the middle man, dealing black trousers to stressed out employees. And that is typical about my name, always with a ‘Y’…never fails. You are very kind to say what you do and I thank you greatly for it…and who knows, that day might be closer than you think when you too can follow your dream. I’ll know for sure when I see your black trousers on e-bay. but hopefully your name will be spelled correctly 😉

      Like

  37. mihrank says:

    wow – the images, content, presentation was like watching a movie or drama on a theater….brilliant work!

    Like

  38. Thank goodness those trousers went missing!! A life spent unfulfilled, lacks its joy. You are such a lovely writer, and kept me spellbound with every line. Never give up on your dreams, Sherri! They are in the palm of your hand!

    Like

  39. Sherri I sat down with my cup of tea and dunkers (digestives) ready to read a post from you. It made me tear up reading about your journey. Especially the challenges you have faced on your own and the line where your new partner takes you by the hand and leads you into the sunshine. So happy your second act is happening, you write so well, loved the fiction but today your story captivated me more. Thanks for sharing.

    Like

    • Sherri says:

      I love the image I have of you sitting with your cuppa and dunkers 🙂 Ahh Kath, I’m sorry I made you tear up, but I’m glad to be able to share the good out of the bad. Life certainly can take us down so many different paths and at times it seems as if all we find are brambles and thorns, but then a path opens up and the vista before us is sparkling and bright and full of hope and joy! I always love to read your thoughts and I thank you so much for sharing your heart with me the way you do. You bring a new song to my day, bless you 🙂

      Liked by 1 person

Lovely to chat...

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

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com 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 )

Google+ photo

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

Connecting to %s