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Monday, December 14, 2015

My Sister is Gone

Rhona Kilburn Alexander
27 June 1963 - 12 December 2015

Rhona passed away on Saturday in Tenerife, of a suspected suicide (Xanax overdose).  We are all stunned and in disbelief.  There are some things which lead us to suspect this wasn't a suicide and I'm going to go to the ends of the earth if the person we suspect of doing something to harm her, is found to be responsible. 

Whatever the autopsy result, he damaged her soul in such a way, she had no hope.  He battered her physically and mentally for six years.  And sadly, she thought she didn't deserve any better so kept going back to him.  There were glimmers of hope now and then but in the end, he always was able to draw her back in.  I tried every which way to get her to see the truth but she fought against that.  I did manage to separate them late last year and things seemed to be improving for her, she had a flicker of lightness about her, but I learned recently they were back together.  I have always feared the worst from this relationship and sadly, in whatever way, it has come to pass.

Rhona and I had an often troubled relationship as you all know, but I always loved her.  She drove me mad sometimes and we spent some time not speaking, but as sisters we were bonded for life.  When I told my brother (from whom she was estranged) he said, well Fiona it's just us now.  Strange feeling that. 

Rhona, I hope you have finally found some sort of peace, hopefully with all the animals who left before you and are waiting to greet you.  Maybe Mum and Dad are there - if so, no doubt Dad will give you a bit of a talking to!  52 was way too young to go.  Especially the way you left, whether by mistake, on purpose or at someone else's hand.  Those truths are yet to come.

Monday, November 30, 2015

Why, when a decision has been made so easy,
does it become the hardest thing to do?


Monday, March 24, 2014

Six Years

Six years ago today, I married the man I thought I would grow old with.  The man I thought I could entrust with all that is me.  The man with whom I promised we would never hurt each other, never lie to each other, never be unfaithful to each other.

Less than four years down the road from the day we married, he tested me to my limits, my absolute limits.  I dug deep, deeper than I have ever had to, and found a way to forgive and move forward.  Part of moving forward was being a better partner to each other.  During the counselling I listened, took note and made a decision to give our marriage another chance.  I made my changes.  He didn't make his.

Close to a year ago, just two weeks after our fifth anniversary, I found myself in the midst of his continuing betrayal, he had just become a bit more clever about hiding it.  It has made me question our entire relationship and the reasons he married me in the first place.  We are living apart but see each other as friends.  I am determined not to become a bitter, angry woman.  I want to believe there was love between us at one time, for both of us.  And so I want to be able to live a life without hate or blame.  All my questions to myself of 'why', come up with the same answer, because he could and because he thought he would get away with it.  While he may not have set out to destroy our marriage, even though he knew his actions would do just that, he still made the decision to put it all at risk.  Every single wonderful thing we had together - and we had a lot.  But just not enough for him. 

It has been a funny sort of a day.  We actually both forgot it was our anniversary until it popped up on FB.  He actually wished me 'Happy Anniversary'.  Which made me feel even more distant from him.  There is no understanding of what I have gone through, and am still going through, for him to wish me 'Happy Anniversary'.  We aren't where we should be at six years of marriage and we're certainly not in the place where 'Happy Anniversary' is appropriate.

Very strange emotions inside me today.

Monday, February 24, 2014

Sisterly Something


My sister came to visit me in December - or so I thought - after having messed up her plans for July (she tried to travel with a defaced passport and was surprised when she was denied boarding on an international flight).

So December comes and I ask her why she bought a one-way ticket and not a return.  Her response:  "Don't worry Fion, I'm not staying!!"  Yeah right....two weeks into her one-month stay where she is living with me, in conversation with a friend of mine, she drops the bombshell:  "I'm moving to Hong Kong".  I told her that she can't just move to Hong Kong, you have to be allowed to live here, it's a special visa either based on work, training or study and there has to be a sponsor for each of those.  Her plan, instead, was to apply for permanent residency as she was born here - well, born in British Hong Kong that is.  I explained the rules have changed, they no longer - and haven't since 1997 when we became part of China - recognised the same right to residency.   And that she wouldn't be able to get it based on the fact she left over 30 years ago and it would be impossible to convince the Immigration Department that she had maintained links with Hong Kong to allow such residency now.

Well blow me over, they gave it to her.  I'm not sure how or why.  It even bamboozled a visa expert here.  I am wondering if she used my residency in some way, not that I signed anything.  So anyway, here she is.

My sister turned 50 this year and has never truly taken control of her own life.  She must find blame for her own shortcomings, in fact we had a conversation recently where she assured me that she smoked, and can't give it up, only because she grew up in a household where our parents smoked and they passed it on to her, it's in her genes.  Hello hello HELLO.  It's called choice.  Because if her rationale was valid, why do I not smoke?  Same thing with the drinking, not her fault, can't stop, etc., etc.  Now I realise there is a school of thought about drinking/disease/addiction but at the end of the day, truly, it is neither air, nor water, nor food so it is indeed possible to live without it.  In fact our aunt, at 82, has just given up after 60+ years of smoking.  I lived with a hardened alcoholic many years ago and I even managed to get him dry - until his sister gave him a beer, just one beer Fiona, there's no harm in that.....oh yes there is.

So here she plonks herself.  Loses it several times over the smallest, most insignificant thing and oh Fion I need your help.  Well dammit I don't want to help her navigate her life, I don't want to have her drop by anytime she feels down (that would be all the time), I don't want to have to explain how life works here, I don't want to be surrounded by the smell of smoke in my own home (she only goes as far as the stairwell outside even though I've told her not to), I don't want to run out of red wine to cook with because she's taken it all, I don't want to spend time with someone who is drunk, I don't want to have to transfer money from an account I hold for her because she's never taken her inheritance into her own account, I don't want to get phone calls that she needs me to book her boyfriend's trip to Pattaya from Bali where they are holidaying and obviously have once again, broken up.  And the list is endless.

We should love our siblings, I know, but I can't do it with her.  She gave my parents many years of absolute hell, always asking for money, calling them in the middle of the night half-way around the world telling them that she's going to kill herself.  She needs me now as she finds herself at 50 and without any job, not that she ever did anything much beyond waitressing for a few years, without emotional resources to live in a new country, and most of all without the core ability to look after herself.  I want my freedom, I want my life in my beloved sparkly home town, I want to move forward after two years of quite frankly a very shitty time.  I'm ready.

And now she arrives to drag me down.  Or at least make every attempt to.  I cannot deal with her way of life, her habits, her choices.  Yes, her choices.  I am a bad person in her eyes, maybe in other eyes but for so many years people have told me to look after myself before I look after anyone else and I'm finally finding a way to do that.

Tuesday, February 18, 2014

Rolling Up My Sleeves.....

Well, now seems as good a time as ever to delve back into my little blog, open the windows wide, get rid of the cobwebs, sweep all the dust off the floor and maybe even give it a fresh coat of paint (that one will have to wait).

I read this quote the other day and it moved me.  I'm certainly no believer of big-g god and I haven't found religion, the quote stood apart from its source.  These words touched a nerve.....

I sink in deep mire, where there is no standing: I am come into deep waters, where the floods overflow me. 

Yup, it has certainly felt like that for almost a year, perhaps more.  I've loved as best I could but lost another anchor, my dearest boy crossed over the rainbow bridge, work has been challenging to say the least, I've been in hospital a few times, I've had surgery on my foot and almost on my knee.  I'm bent (literally) but with certainty I'm not broken.  Not even close.

What doesn't kill you makes you stronger?  Indeed.  And while it certainly doesn't feel like that at the time....too much anguish and pain to even think about ever being strong again....in time the grey fades away and colours start to dot the landscape.  You realise that it wasn't all your fault, hell maybe even none of it was.  We're adults, we made choices, we live with the consequences and we give chances.  But we don't repeatedly offer ourselves up to being emotionally whipped time and time again.  Once, even twice at a squeeze.  But when you hear that whip cracking the third time, well get me off the grill, I'm done.

Sad, yes.  Bitter, no.  Disappointed, yes.  Vengeful, no.  Chalk it up to another of life's experiences.  The Horse year is supposed to be a good one for us Dogs so.....Hi-Yo, Silver! Away!

Thursday, January 09, 2014

Getting Through It All

You can't move forward, or even make good decisions, unless everyone is dealing with the same set of facts. Which means you need to know the truth.

And only then can you make the right decision.     

Friday, November 15, 2013

When You're Just....Not Enough

I revisited my little blog recently and had a read through all the posts.  Some lengthy, some short.  Some happy, some sad.  Some questioning, some confirming. Lots about growing in love.

How quickly things can change, how easily things can become something else, altogether.  I'm not perfect, never have tried to pretend that I am.  But I have always done things from a point of being honest to myself and my loved ones.  Even my not-so-loved ones and that is perhaps why I am now not-so-loved by them.   Aaaaah honesty, how I wish you had been present more in others.

In life, you trust.  You trust your commitments, you trust those close to you, you trust your decisions.  Sometimes all those trusts are broken along with your heart.  When you're just.....not enough.

I'm constantly reviewing the past two years in my mind....what if I had, what if he had, what if we had.  But when someone constantly chooses another person, the same person, over you, it's time to realise that you're just....not enough.

Why wasn't I enough?  That's the part I don't understand.

Friday, April 05, 2013

A Cautionary Tale

When texting both your wife and your girlfriend at the same time....make sure you haven't put the message for your girlfiend in your wife's whatsapp window before you press send.

Oh and probably not the best idea either to refer to your wife in said message by using the girlfriend's derogatory name for her.

Monday, March 04, 2013

Love and Lupo

One cold Spring day, I found two little bundles of fluff dumped behind my apartment entrance gate in Tenerife.  Little did I know the impact they would have on my life, my sister's life and Anders' life.

Anders fell in love with little brown baby, and called him Love (Loo-vay) in Swedish.  I had already fallen in love with the poorly little black baby who was much smaller and not very well.

Scroll on 13 years.  Love passed away late last month unexpectedly after a short illness. They discovered a tumor on his spleen and when they opened him up to remove it, found a large tumor on his liver and Anders took the heart-wrenching decision to let him go and not suffer through the pain after surgery for a very short life expectancy.  With my heart in my throat I immediately took Lupo to the vet and he was quickly booked in for an xray and ultrasound. 

This was done on Saturday and the worst of the worst has been discovered.  While there is a growth on his spleen similar to his brother, what is much more worrying and serious is a primary lung tumor which has been detected, plus some other lumps in his chest area and an enlarged heart.  More investigation is to be done, still to decide between a needle biopsy, CT scan or going in with a scope and taking a sample then.  The vet has said I am probably looking at six months, barring a miracle.

I'm putting this here instead of on my FB page because I haven't told my sister yet...she's his second mama, having looked after him for me for almost 8 of his 13 years.  So please don't mention it there if you know me here and there.

I know I should be grateful for 13 years of life with Lupo.  But my heart is breaking at the thought of losing my sparkle-eyed boy.

Tuesday, January 31, 2012


It's 2012, almost six years since I first wrote here.

I miss you my little blog, my escape, my sanctuary, my channel to express.  And sometimes my rubber room.

Maybe with the New Year, 2012 and Year of the Dragon, I'll make time to come back and write again.

Happy New Year everyone and wishing you all a wonderful Year of the Dragon - a very auspicious year.


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