Angel Falls Venezuela

Today I had reason to turn the tables on myself. I tried to imagine how my children will feel when I take off on my travel to Africa. Ive always been there, just a call away, they have always known how to reach me, where to reach me, and if I felt it necessary and urgent I would drop things to be there and present for them. Thats how its meant to be, sometimes not easy but at the end of the day, that simple.

Patrick leaves on Wednesday, I feel a mixture of pride, pleasure and shared excitement for him. He, as he said he would, is travelling opting for Venuezela, Caracas and backpacking down to Brazil.

S**t , that was the first thought that entered my head,I asked if he didnt fancy a month just relaxing on a beach in Spain, but having already explored a few options with him, I knew this was of no interest to him. His choices were limited due to not being able to acquire necessary Visa's for his first choices at the last minute. So hes off, not really prepared I feel, or am I just a mother...lol

I perhaps shouldnt have shown him my travel brochures from i to i who arrange overseas placements nor told him about STA travel who arrange student travel, but I did and now Im nagging or at least thats how it feels..Have you got this, have you got that, promise you will keep contact every couple of days etc etc etc.

I think my main issue or concern is that he is travelling alone, but Im sure he will be fine..

There now Ive got that off my chest I can shut up, it has however made me realise the importance of little things, informed risk taking, the importance of preparation and keeping contact with those sitting at home wondering if you are ok, I may just slip a few little reminders in his Calvin Kleins ***RING YOUR MOTHER*** CALL HOME OR ELSE!!! any suggestions welcome..
Patrick wants to see Angel falls which is apparently the highest waterfall in the world, and having found it on Youtube I can fully understand why, its absolutely astounding, now I wish I were going with him

I WALKED INTO A DOOR STORY

OH DEAR
Well its been almost, but not quite a week since Pats arrival home, safe and sound, I could relax...PHEW!!! thought I.

Having said that he has just this evening arrived back from a cousins wedding in Ireland...

Well, to be factual it was a wedding reception without the wedding as the bride called off 3 days prior to the actual day of the union..I have to add I admire her for making a very brave decision, but also acknowledge it will have caused a great deal of heartache and problems for both families.

Anyway the reception went ahead for the grooms family which is enormous, Pats father is one of 15 children and all their accompanying children can make for quite a gathering. A good time was had by all despite the cancellation, and Patrick enjoyed his weekend away.

Today it was he who was making his way down the stairs, me the one coming through the door having just finished work. 'Was that a limp' thought I....or has the dog done a doo doo on the carpet, not that she does, but one never knows....

Sure enough it was a limp.

He told me he had hurt his leg fooling around, the I banged into a door story ( good as any ) then procedes to show me his leg, ( its the first time Ive seen his legs in years I think). To my shock and horror his left knee is swollen to the size of a football and he can neither straighten nor bend it.

So tommorrow I take the wounded soldier up to casualty..

Thats life...........LOL

Walk Like An Egyptian
By The Bangles
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WELCOME HOME

I hadnt realised how easy it is to see war through eyes that see only weapons and destruction, my eyes these past 3 months if I am honest. Today my minds eye was stretched beyond this to the everyday lives of the people, men,women and children, not unlike myself.

Ordinary people sending their children to school, cooking, doing their best to live life as normally as possible when their country has been invaded, as I cannot remember the Iraqi people asking for American nor British assistance or intervention

Joe being the chef in the family cooked tonight, Roast lamb, dressed with garlic and rosemary, new and roast potatoes, broccoli and the most delicious gravy I have ever tasted, beating his mothers by a mile. I was asking Patrick what types of meat he had eaten during his tour and he mentioned trying goat, then went on to speak about the meals he often shared with the people of Iraq.

He told me that when he was on border patrol, during stopovers in the villages, the troops would be invited to share a meal, offered by the families. All sat round on the floor eating chicken, rice etc from a big bowl placed in the centre. Hospitality that I find so moving.

I have visions of a woman, with a heart not so different to my own, preparing the food that my son enjoyed, an act of friendship, communion that overcomes all language barriers, I also feel very humbled and so grateful.

He spoke again of playing football with the children of the villages and I smiled, warmed by the image. He spoke of the waiter who served him on camp, A pharmacutical gratuate from India, working as a waiter in the british camp, serving the troops so politely, why? So he can afford to put his two sons through university, it certainly put my struggle to support my children through university into perspective.

The young Iraqi marine in his training group, who had moved his wife and family from Baghdad to Basra, where she now taught. It all seems so normal and everyday, yet my heart knows their normal and everyday is a million miles apart from mine as I sit and write this.

It is a sobering thought, after all the only danger I will face as I go to work tommorrow is the hot head in a BMW who is too impatient to be a considerate driver, such is his urgency to get to work that nano second sooner, I think I will just smile as he eventually sails past......( no sexism, carism intended )

These unknown, unmet people so far away are in my heart and thoughts tonight, cradled with gratitude and a wish for peace. The spirit of their hospitality sat at my table as I listened to my son speak of them in a different time, different place over another meal.
Labels: Iraq, mother, peace, troops