You can’t kill the Spirit

You can’t kill the Spirit
She is like a mountain
Old and strong
She goes on and on and on…

You can’t kill the Spirit
She is like a river
Deep and long
She goes on and on and on…

It’s no doubt showing my age to admit to camping at the Greenham Common Peace Camp, when I was in my teens. I’m not a great singer (lucky our DE baby would inherit from KF, rather than me, on that front!) but often when I’m snuggling DS down to sleep I sing to him, and I find Irish songs or the Greenham songs are the easiest to remember and (almost) get in tune.

Under the pale moonlight we dance
Spirits dance we dance
Joining hands we dance
Joining souls rejoice

Down at Greenham on a spree
Financed by the KGB
Dirty women squatting in the mud
Tra la la la la

It makes me smile remembering it. I’ve always been very stubborn and determined. Not sure if it’s such a good thing, when it comes to fertility and loss. I don’t have a way of accepting things with grace. All I know is how to hang in there and hope for the best.

Even when it was clear my mother was going to die and would not be coming out of hospital, I had a kernel of optimism. It was twenty years ago, I was only 21. It’s always in my mind. I remember very well the last mother’s day I spent with my mother. She was so weak and ill. My younger sister had a newborn baby. My brother was still at school. I cooked dinner for us all. I already felt that I was the one who would be doing the mothering from then on.

I do think it was the experience I had, of having to give and give, and take care of them all, that made me delay having children for so long. Already, by the time I was 25, I felt that I’d been caring for my brother and sister and my niece for so long.  So tired.

And the last few years have been so hard.

 I certainly feel at times very much like that mountain, standing doggedly through everything.

~ by drownedgirl on March 21, 2007.

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