Closure

Yesterday we said goodbye to my dad. The previous 10 days or so had been a flurry of activity; time spent with mum and the family, time organising the funeral and time at work. A Funeral is an interesting occasion I always think; both sad and happy in almost equal measures.

Seeing the flowers in the garden as I arrived at their house. My niece telling me she had written a poem for granddad and wanted to read it out, and in the next breath bursting into tears and saying she couldn’t. Followed by helping her write her card and slipping the poem behind it (later reading the beautiful words was both happy and sad). The relief at seeing both my ex sisters in law after they had said they wouldn’t be there. Seeing my brother, son and nephews carrying the coffin. Hearing my brother read out the words I had written for us all. Seeing my son and his cousins hugging each other in grief.

But what joy to see the 5 grandchildren and their respective girl and boyfriends eating lunch together, and chatting the entire afternoon was such a joy to see. Catching up with cousins I have not seen in months or even years in some cases. Seeing and hearing everyone enjoying recounting memories, enjoying each others company was great too. My relief at knowing the food had lived up to expectation and that mum was coping well.

A funeral is a ritual that we need to go through. It helps bring some kind of closure to the first part of our grieving process. I know we all have a long way to go, but yesterday helped.

 

A strange week

It isn’t every week that you lose a parent (thankfully), so I suppose the fact that it has been kind of weird around here is to be expected. Last week was about caring for dad, for mum and for the rest of the family. It was about being there for others and taking time out for me. This week has been much the same in a slightly different way, but there is no dad. What we have now is thoughts and memories.

Last evening I joined mum and the elder of my two brothers to meet with the lady who will conduct the funeral ceremony. Dad wasn’t a religious person. He never discussed faith with me, never told me he was an atheist, but I suspect he was. His last coherent words to me, just over a week ago was to ask me ‘what is my destiny Julie? I told him that it was to be there with us, what else was there to say to a dying man? So last evening we told her about the man who was a husband, father, grandfather, great-grandfather, work colleague, friend. Then later when she had left, we looked at some old photos and chatted some more. Mum is taking great solace in those memories and so too I think did we.

Yesterday too, I went back to work. There was a meeting I felt I needed to go to. There was no one else to go for me as the job I do is about me, not about a team. The meeting was fine, but back in the office, I found being there difficult. People were lovely, coming up and speaking about my loss. The trouble was having so many people approaching me in that way was in itself challenging. They gave me a lovely orchid plant and a card. So kind, but at the same time it made me want to leave and go home. I didn’t I sat it out, even if I was only part way effective.

My time with Master this last couple of weeks has of course been reduced. Plus, to be honest, I have thought less about my submission than of late. The role I have been playing has been that of daughter, sister and mother and not in any kind of submissive way. The conversations with Master have been just that and our meetings have in the main been for dinner and on Wednesday to see a film too. Our time together has helped me escape from the realities of the rest of my life, but also to be able to talk to someone who knows how it feels. Who knows how I feel.

I know this week will end and will be replaced with another equally surreal and unusual, since next week will be the funeral. Then after that there will be more weeks where we all try to come to terms with what has happened recently.

What I look forward to though is being with Master again in the way I know I need. To be His slave again and to submit, to be played with in whatever way He has in mind. Plus I think to at last be able to plan a little bit further in the future. To start to think of the next phase of my life, the one where hubby and I make the final break. I know I will need His support for that too.

 

A release

Just before 8am yesterday morning, dad was released from the pain and suffering he has endured these last few weeks. It was sad to see him take those last few breaths, but it had been worse to watch him become a shell of the man I knew.

Gradually over the weekend, he had lost the ability to swallow and stopped responding to our words and touch. He lay in his bed, in the living room, a presence, but someone you felt was not really there. Over night on Sunday, his breathing had seemed even, though at times a little laboured, but at 7 when I began to get ready for a day’s work, he seemed stable. I truly believed at that time, he would last at least till evening. At around 7.50am, I sensed a change in his breathing (we had rigged a baby monitor into my room) and I ran down. He was taking just the occasional breath. I called mum and she came and sat with him, holding his hand and speaking gently to him as he passed away.

No one wants to lose someone close, much less a parent. As one of my brothers said yesterday afternoon – I never thought this day would come. But come it has and when it did it was a release for him and for all of us.

 

Interlude

Over the past week or so I have juggled the need to be with my parents and family with work, home and with Master. Essentially I have spent more time here, with them than doing any of the other things. Dad continues to slip slowly away. The distress he felt earlier in the week is now hidden inside him as his grip on the outside world fades. On Friday, when my niece was here, he definitely nodded and shook his head to some of the things she was saying. But last evening when I was telling him about how my football team had managed to equalise against his, there was no response. His breathing is laboured, and he seems unable to swallow. I guess it won’t be long.

Luckily, my two brothers have been taking their share of responsibility and late on Friday night I escaped to Master’s. I was probably too tired to be much in the way of company and essentially drank some wine, had a bit of a chat and then slept through what seemed like a really great film that I will have to see again. Yesterday morning though, I was able to relax and respond to His masterful ways.

Have I taken the time on here to tell the world how wonderful a clitoral hood piercing can be for the enjoyment of both parties. He says that He loves the feeling on His cock as it rubs over it and I love that feeling too (obviously in a slightly different way). Plus for being on top of Him, and He playing with the metal while I move on Him, well all I can say is the words ‘girl can cum at will’ are gratefully heard. We have been exploring the depth of my submission and the extent to which He can bring me to orgasm to control what I do and say, while I am on top of Him. Gradually over the weeks, this has led me to some new levels of arousal, submission and yes, ecstasy. Gradually I have become better able to talk through my feelings, to express my submission to Him, at the same time as being in  subspace. That woozy feeling has taken on a new feeling. I have learned to completely relax, and to allow my mind to completely empty. He likes to ask a series of questions about who owns me and who I am. During those moments I often can just say that I am Master’s. He loves that feeling of total control and I love the feeling of total submission.

Yesterday morning, this whole process was the most amazing way to escape from the pressures of my life as it is right now and to give myself completely to Him. To be able to go from Julie the daughter and sister, providing that supporting and caring role to the pleasing bitch for her Master. To be able to sit on top of him, to appear in control and yet to be controlled in every way. To be able to submit, to be His slave.

Afterwards we lay curled up together, completely relaxed. I realised that I felt no need to move any part of my body but instead was happy to just be. This is progress for someone as fidgety and restless as I sometimes am and as stressed as I often feel right now.

Sadly the interlude couldn’t last. I had to go off home and do a few household chores and to see my son before heading back over here to spend the night supporting my parents. Over night, listening to dad’s breathing while lying awake in the spare room I was grateful to have those lovely thoughts to return to and to know that there will be plenty more times like that to look forward to.

The unknown

As a family we are now at the point where we don’t know how long dad has left. He has been in bed for 9 days, firstly upstairs in the bed he shared with mum and since Thursday downstairs. We didn’t expect things to take the turn they did as quickly as they did. The night before he took to bed, he had been for a meal out with my brother. That day he had pottered around his garden. Now his world has shrunk to one room.

At times, he is animated, happy to engage in the world around him. That happened today when my niece visited with his great grandson. But mostly he sleeps. Getting him to drink is difficult, to eat, impossible.

Mostly those present are family. We combine our caring roles and discussing the difficulties we face with normal life activities and discussion. We try to reassure mum that she is doing well. At times between us we complain at the way she struggles to cope. But really this is a defence mechanism for us all. Tonight she confessed she doesn’t know how to use the dishwasher; that was always dad’s job. No wonder she has rushed to wash every plate and cup as it became used.

We don’t know how long dad has left. We know it isn’t long, but how long we just don’t know. We are now living day to day. Trying to explain to outsiders that life is on hold. Meanwhile work continues, life continues. As a nurse, I know that every death is different, that we are dealing with the unknown.

Knowing that he suffers. That he is sad that he is experiencing the end of his life, I wonder if it is bad that I hope that he gets what he needs soon. Trouble is, that for us the pain is just beginning.

Looking back, looking forward

This is the first time this girl has written a blog post while Master is in the room. He is sitting at the other end of the sofa, using His tablet, while this girl types. The times we spend together at the weekends are precious and at the moment this girl is having to share that time with her family.

This girl’s dad continues to deteriorate and is now pretty much permanently in bed. Thankfully a hospital bed has been loaned and nurses are visiting twice daily. Mum is beginning to learn how to cope with the situation, but only with a great deal of support from all of the family. What she does though is to phone whenever she has a problem, perceived or real, or if she has something to say. This morning, while Master and girl were in bed together, she phoned twice. Predominantly this was about the vacuum cleaner she needs and which girl has promised to obtain today.

This morning also, we have been talking about those first few times we met and played. The excitement of a new relationship, the thrill of new experiences. Submitting so quickly to His Dominance. Looking back to the posts this girl wrote at that time, she is amazed at the speed at which all of this happened. Even before a discussion about becoming Master’s submissive, girl had given over control of her orgasms, her body and then her  name. At the time, this girl and indeed Master believed it would be possible to have a relationship that was time limited, and which would easily end when they decided that this should happen. It would be safe to say that neither realised quite how things would turn out.

Over the months, this girl’s submission has grown and developed. At the same time, the power and control Master has over His girl has also grown and developed. Together they have explored and embraced the feelings, the emotions that go with the more physical side of that relationship. This morning we discussed limits. This girl admitted that she no longer feels that she owns her own limits, instead they belong to Him, to Master. He has not demanded that this be so. Indeed in our contract, He just asks that He be allowed to push them. For this girl though, the desire to submit is so great, the need to feel his power is such that she no longer wishes to have that kind of control over herself. Instead she trusts. She knows that He knows what is best for her and that in pushing her, He will also keep her safe from harm.

This girl has some difficult days ahead. But she has a Master with whom she can discuss those difficulties and who she knows will provide the care and support she needs. He will also take what He needs. The sex and the pain are vital parts of our relationship. There are intense moments of lust and passion, times when pain gives intense arousal and even for the first time an orgasm driven by that pain. But what drives us forward and what makes us know this has future is the way in which the slave / Master dynamic continues to develop, Each week we feel this to a greater extent. This girl wouldn’t have believed this could be the case, but it definitely is.

The past is important and special to us, we have formed memories which we can talk about and through this blog it is possible to remember thoughts and feelings. We don’t know what the future will bring, but this girl embraces what ever Master has in mind for her.

photo from Ervodou

Sad

As a nurse I have watched the dying process and I have been with people when they have died. I have cared for people afterwards, washed them, prepared them for their loved ones. I have spent time with those loved ones at all parts of the process. As a nurse, I have cared for people for many weeks, from the time they knew they would die, until the end. What I am realising is, that I was less prepared for the long process of dying than I knew. Especially when that person is your own parent.

I have always been closer to my dad than my mum. She and I have a love hate relationship. I guess we are too similar to really like each other, much as we really do love and care. With dad though, I am the only daughter, and we have spent more time than I can say in discussion. Chatting, analysing and generally putting the world to rights. He has always been there to advise, to support. He has been a tower of strength through some hard times. Suddenly those roles seem to be reversed. Much as I have managed this transition, the complete role reversal is almost too much to bear.
Since last Christmas, we have pretty much known that this is the year that will be his last. The deterioration has been gradual, though at times there have been major problems which made me wonder if things would be more sudden. Instead this process is painful and it is slow. Day by day, week by week, I have watched him waste away. The big, strong man can now barely lift a light bag of shopping. His disease is bit by bit removing his strength, his mobility, his ability to get through each day.
I know he hates the person he has become. I know that he sees what I do, that he looks much older now than he is.
He can still hold a good conversation, but gradually he is losing interest in the things that were special to him. He looks around him and knows that time is short, therefore why bother with football and cricket (previous passions), especially when the teams he follows don’t appear to even try to win. In the past we discussed current affairs, politics; all of that seems less important now. He lives day to day, week to week. He knows the end is near, but not how near it is.

The only thing we can do now is to visit to help out. To encourage the grandchildren to visit. They have a baby great grandson who is a source of joy. Visits tire him, but at the same time make the struggle worthwhile.

Today I had a conversation with his hospice nurse. Suddenly, during that conversation, I realised. I was not discussing a patient. I was discussing my dad. On Monday I am meeting her at their house, to begin to discuss how we make his death the best it can be. The next few weeks will be hard.
I am really sad right now.

Difficult conversations

Right now, my life if full of them.

Last week I had to deal with hubby’s inability to move forward with what needs to happen to end our relationship. As I feel stronger and more secure in myself (and right now, I do),  I see it is the perfect time to get certain things out in the open. Plus as summer draws on, there is a realisation, that if I don’t deal with things now, we will be in a new year before something happens.

Today, I took my parents out for lunch. Dad told me that every few days he feels just a little weaker, a little less able to do things. Today I noticed his difficulty in getting out of a chair after sitting a little too long. He told me about throwing an apple down the garden to frighten a cat (I know this isn’t kind, but it is dad) and watching the fruit plop down just a short distance away. This from a formerly strong man who bowled for a local cricket team. He told me he just stood and laughed, so amazed by his own lack of strength. Discussions also touched on what to do with his car after he dies (mum doesn’t drive), his life insurance and probate for his will. These conversations are difficult for us all, but we recognise that they need to happen. Dad observed that not everyone in the family is as willing as me to discuss these matters and the fact that we are able to is helping them both.

I have been a nurse for over 30 years and during that time I was a district nurse who cared for many patients at the ends of their lives. It is easy, as a member of the medical or nursing profession to think you know all about the process and the feelings that go with it. I find however that that is not the case. On some days I can use my experiences to help advise and support (especially when it comes to dealing with medical matters), but on others and increasingly it is difficult.

Of course these conversations are not unique to our family or indeed to me. Right now, though I am grateful to be able to have them. Not everyone does.

End of a difficult week – what this girl has learnt

This girl’s emotions have been all over the place this week. It is still hard to imagine how it is that this girl can feel almost euphoric one moment and then anxious, afraid and tearful the next. What this girl has learnt this week though is that rather than always covering up her feelings and just trying to cope, there is usually someone in life who will help you through. Or of course share the good things in life.

The contact with Master has helped, even when we have discussed difficult issues. He is an amazing source of sensible strength to this girl. Plus His wry and often a little left of centre, sense of humour makes this girl laugh even when she is feeling down.

As this girl has mentioned before, she doesn’t always find it easy to make friends. But suddenly this girl is making new friends in new ways. Ones who she doesn’t have to hide certain areas of her life from. This girl is discovering a network of people who can support each other and share times, both good and bad.

Being there for family is easier when you are being supported by others, whether they are friends, family or Master. This girl’s dad has deteriorated a little more, and yesterday was spent in a hospital trying to get his pain management sorted out (thankfully with success). While this girl was tired when she got home, she felt that something good will come of the day. In the past, given that hubby and son were home, she would have passed up the chance of an hour with Master. But having realised what is important to this girl’s well being and to His, she didn’t do that. As the relationship with hubby moves to yet a different phase – one where he has to recognise this girl has other important people in her life who are not part of his – that was an important step.

So the weekend approaches. This time this girl will mix getting things done with having some fun with friends and also with family. Tonight a chance to see a nephew and niece that this girl doesn’t see often enough.

Then after the weekend, Master will be on His way home. For the first time she can be His slave in person.

This girl kind of can’t wait for that, but knows she must be patient.

Feelings of guilt

I have been so self absorbed recently, seeking to find happiness and fulfilment. Then knowing how Sir’s departure would make me feel I went off to France and while I did fun things and house maintenance that needed doing I was just thinking of myself.

But now I am feeling guilty. My dad is really unwell and my departure left them alone – one brother on a trip to Mexico and the other working – and they had to manage some really terrible difficulties with his health.

What kind of daughter am I? How can I call myself a nurse? How can I treat my own family in this way.

This has got to stop. I must get a grip and if that means leaving Sir and my submission behind for a while that is what will have to happen.

It might be my lack of a night’s sleep speaking – don’t you just hate the feeling that you have had a lovely deep sleep to find the clock has moved about 20 minutes since the last time you looked.

But I know I must concentrate on some very important things right now. This illness is going to take my dad from us and I really do need to sort out my priorities.