#WritingWednesday: Transient Trips and Touchdowns
When a short-term connection touches down in your orbit and is a little more substantial than two fleeting ships in the night...
Hey #BeautifulSouls,
For 19 days of this month, I was an inpatient at Croydon University Hospital, recovering from my 9th(?) bout of Cellulitis, a skin infection I wrote about in my last post.
In the 16 days I was on Queens 2 ward, I got to know a variety of personalities who passed through: some nice, some not, some annoying. There were people who reminded me why I am the person I am – someone who doesn’t believe in failure – and who’ve reinforced why I don’t believe in giving up.
There was one person who was incredibly kind and supportive of me and my endeavours, writing and otherwise; she encouraged me, and was just a genuinely nice person, something so rare in today’s climate.
We celebrated her bornday on Easter Monday – and by ‘we,’ I mean the staff on our ward, as well as the other patients on my bay; she made herself that beloved in 5 short days. Thinking about her impact gave me the inspiration for this week’s post. Transient relationships can affect us just as deeply as long-term ones, and sometimes they affect us long after the fact.
Like chalk and cheese, there were 3 infectious (pun not intended) characters who affected more during this admission than any other. Let me tell you how, using their initials for privacy.
NF was my favourite Health Care Assistant for so many reasons. Aside from dedication to her job, and unprecedented professionalism, she showed a level of heart demonstrating the old adage about some people going to work, while others show up for a profession.
She took care of me with genuine love from Day 1, which was actually last summer when I was on the same ward, with the same condition plus a couple of toppings. She never once humiliated me for my body’s limitations at my age, something other HCAs did last year, and she was completely sympathetic without being condescending.
There was a huge representation of what I don’t want to become in CG; someone who was determined to be negative at every turn. She refused to help herself and was utterly reliant on others – not because she needed to be, but because she just didn’t seem to want to help herself.
She was abusive to staff, and impatient to a degree I was unfortunately familiar with because of someone I only recently removed from my life after decades of dependency - something I’m sure played a part in my frustration with both.
By far, however, my greatest influence whilst in hospital was the inimitable MD. A former teacher to Year 10 Business Studies students, and mentor to 14-year-olds, she prepared young minds for society with real-world advice and guidance, and if she can have the effect she did on me in only 5 days, then I cannot even begin to picture extent of her influence on their confidence, dedication, and growth as people.
I’d like to do something a little different in this post. I’d like to invite you to share about the most influential people in your lives in the comments. Is there anyone who was in your life for a short time who had a major impact? Why were they so influential? Shout them out below.
This week’s flash is dedicated to MD and NF. It’s my way of saying thank you for your kindness, and I hope you both receive the kindness you impart on others tenfold, each and every day, from now until forever. Much love.
Fishing
Merina Dremor was always nervous at the start of a new onboarding cycle. She couldn’t show it in her exterior – she needed to exude quiet confidence and self-assurance if she was going to get these women to believe in her methodology.
12 women between the ages of 35 and 60 sat in a semi-circle, staring at each other and her with disbelief and mistrust. She turned away from the group and used the moment it took to write her name on the whiteboard to close her eyes and take a deep breath. Turning back and walking around the desk to perch on the front, whilst fixing her biggest, brightest, warmest smile on the group, she planted her feet, then jumped off the cliff.
‘Good Evening Ladies, welcome to 2nd Chance Success. My name is Merina Dremor, and I’m your coach for the next 16 weeks. I’m sure you’re all familiar with what this course is about, but just in case you’re not, I’ll run it down for you.
This is more than a course; you’re doing more than training to get a new job here – you’re adapting your life to fit in and thrive in the 21st century environment. That means we’ll cover IT training, create a new CV, get you funding to equip yourself with a work wardrobe, help you decide which sector of employment interests you, and tailor a training package to help you break into it. We’ll set you up with a professional digital footprint, also help you curate the kind of social media presence a prospective employer would feel confident in hiring the owner of. How does that sound?’
The usual response at this point was exactly what she was seeing: 12 awkward and squirming women staring between one another whilst either avoiding eye contact or openly eyeballing her with a challenge. Sorry, not biting today ladies.
Although every group was different, there were some things that always remained the same; there was always disbelief they could turn their lives around in 16 weeks, or at all, which was part of the thrill of delivering this training, the results the women never expect to see.
There was always the cocky one who thought this was a waste of time, and the world would never give them what it supposedly owed them – they rarely ended up finishing the entire module. Then there was the determined women out to get everything they could out of the experience; they were the stellar success stories who always made Merina proud.
She could usually tell which each student was just by looking at them, it was in their body language, their style of dress, and their attitude – you couldn’t mistake it.
Looking at the group now, she could already see which was which. She looked at the sticky labels sporting their names and called out the person she knew would make the most of this experience.
‘Nyssa, tell us about yourself.’
Looking uncomfortably shy, Nyssa asked, ‘shall I stand?’
Merina smiled warmly then replied, ‘it’s up to you, lovely! Whatever you feel the most comfortable doing.’
Nyssa paused for a minute and looked down at her feet, as if willing them to run.
‘Today would be good.’ The cocky one Merina doubted would be able to hack all the tasks muttered under her breath, causing the others to titter.
‘Ok ladies, this is a pretty relaxed environment, as you can probably tell, but the one rule in my classroom is you must all support each other – no-one makes fun of, or belittles anyone else, or I will have to ask you to leave. This is my one and only warning – after this, we go straight to exclusions, ok? Everyone clear?’
Little Miss Cocky, whose name was Carmel, rolled her eyes and pursed her lips in annoyance, but nodded almost imperceptibly.
‘Great. Ok, Nyssa, go ahead.’ Merina coaxed.
Nyssa stood immediately and spoke out confidently, telling them about her 3 kids and inability to finish college when she fell pregnant with her first at 17, and was kicked out by her parents. Her son was in college now, and she wanted him to look at her with an admiration in his eyes she didn’t currently see, maybe because she didn’t see it in her own.
As the weeks and her predictions came to pass, Merina took genuine pride in watching Nyssa flourish, watching pride build in her. She was a natural in the corporate world, taking to the Business Studies course Merina was thrilled to get Nyssa into, like a proverbial duck to water.
So 5 years later, when Merina was preparing to retire, Nyssa, now an Executive Manager at a well-known financial institution, was only too happy to return and celebrate her old coach, bringing her son.
‘Son, this is the coach I told you about; she took a chance on your old mum and helped me turn our lives around. I’m where I am now because of you – I could never thank you enough for everything you did for me.’
Merina shook his hand. ‘It’s lovely to finally meet you, I heard an awful lot about you. You must be very proud of this spring chicken. You’ve heard the old adage, give a man a fish and you’ll feed him for a meal, but teach him how to fish, and he’ll eat for the rest of his days? Well, your mother is that man.’’ Merina said conspiratorially.
The young man’s cheeks flushed as he answered, ‘erm, I guess…yeah, I am.’ Nyssa’s watery eyes shone.
‘You’re where you are because of you Nyssa. You chose to put the work in, I didn’t do it for you – all I did was support you.’
‘You supported me into studying for my MA in Business Management. I’ve done pretty well so far, assignment-wise.’
‘Excellent! Congratulations on all your accomplishments, I’m very proud, you’re one of my favourite success stories.’
The women gazed at one another with warmth and gratitude, before embracing, long and hard.
The thing about transient relationships is they only stick in your memory of they changed you in some way. If I think of the most impactful in my life, it’s clear to me what they taught me.
My only real friend as a child was the first person I lost from my life, and I’ll never forget her influence. I was 12 years old when she died, and the experience taught me to always let my loved ones know how much they mean to me.
My most impactful transient romantic relationship was the only lesson I never learned, and it’s come back to bite me in the arse more than a few times. I should’ve gone on to treat subsequent suitors callously, without care, or regard for their feelings; as if they didn’t matter, but I’m not, and hope I never become, that type of person.
Of course, the relationship that affected me the most, but was the most significantly fleeting, was with my maternal grandmother. My Grammy’s influence helped shape the good parts of me into who I am today. I’m forever trying to emulate her and strive to be someone she could be proud of from the moment I open my eyes, on every single morning I am blessed to wake up.
In fact, it was because of my Grammy’s memory and who she taught me to be that I tried to exercise as much patience as I could with the woman on my ward who drove everybody (including me, more than a few times) to distraction. But it’s also because of her I tried never to stay too angry for too long, because she could easily have been my grandmother, and how would I have felt if someone were being mean to her?
A few years ago, I wrote a trilogy of poems to and from my grandmother, and the Alzheimer's that plagued her, for a competition. I remember, I was intent on getting her voice just right, so I roped in my poor, long-suffering mother to give the series the once over. She confirmed I had her down pat and reflected her truthfully and honestly, so here they are, as my means of introducing her to you.
Legacy – Part 1
If God spare mi life mi nah go question what Him set,
Mi never face a tribulation Him not strengthened me for yet.
He will guide mi steps and mi will follow where Him lead,
Mi just sorry mi will lose what matters most to me.
Mi children and grandchildren who brought so much joy,
Mi no want forget the oldest girl to the youngest boy.
Dem will just have to leave everything in God’s hands,
He will not forsake them if in His word they stand.
Mi live long and love every one a dem,
And pray dem live good if mi don’t see them again.
For Muriel Alberta - Part 2
Ice went through my veins the first time you looked at me without recognition,
I didn’t know how to look at you and your condition and apply the logic of division.
Cold, hard facts could not compete with the force of my emotions.
I just knew I wanted to share every moment and love you with devotion.
I hadn’t noticed any symptoms,
I didn’t have time to adjust to the signs.
I just knew you were taken from me in the space of a moment in time.
I didn’t do right by you, in my eyes I just can’t wrap my head around the excuse,
Even though Mum says there was no way I could’ve visited you.
You were my 2nd Mum the other space where I felt safest,
I didn’t want your last memory of me to be only the latest.
But somehow even though you didn’t recognise me,
That time you were not so scared.
When you looked at me you felt my love,
And upon your face a smile settled there.
This year marks a quarter century since the last time I saw you,
I’m terrified my memories fade when I can never create one anew.
So please stay with me because I cannot lose you again,
If I lose the memories I have I don’t know what I will do then.
I hope if you were here you would still be proud of who you see,
Because each day when I wake, I just want to be your best version of me.
Destruction in Silence of a Life Well Built - Part 3
Zealous will I be as I remove this persevering mind,
Swift will be my blade to the root – not one memory will she find.
She hasn’t suffered enough – abusive husband, a lost child, physical pain, and discomfort.
I won’t allow for an. Ounce of familiarity to be fought.
Tethers and ties no longer exist – there won’t be a face she recognises,
Cold and lonely she will be, with gaps in her memory of different sizes.
Annihilation is my only goal; I won’t settle for anything less.
If anything, she should thank me for removing painful memories to be redressed.
Destruction in silence of a life once built – I only succeed if I leave nothing behind.
Just think about it for a moment, and you’ll see I’m helping her set things right.
I’ll leave no connection, no pretty landscapes that upset her, might.
No symbolic white butterflies splitting good and bad memories in two.
I will leave a wasteland where a long-lived life once stood,
Wouldn’t you prefer I slid in and took those thoughts away, if it meant her sadness I took?
In stealth, I invade a strong mind and level its terrain before it has time to protest,
But if it means I eradicate her suffering, should it really be me you detest?
So that’s it for this week folks, you’ve caught up with me and my moving parts…is it just me or does that just sound wrong? Ah well 🤷🏽♀️.
Until the next…🤓✍🏾📖
ES😉😘