Archive for the ‘Just stuff’ Category

Born Together, Friends Forever

Wednesday, November 2nd, 2011

Puzzle pieceJigsaws can be frustrating and confusing but as more and more pieces slot into place you feel a mounting sense of excitement. Adapting a Forrest Gump quote, he might have said “Life is like a jigsaw, except you don’t have a picture on the box to know how it’s going to turn out.”

My life has been very much like that jigsaw which has become difficult to complete because a key piece was removed at the time of my birth. I had a twin brother or sister who was undiagnosed before delivery and in the distant days of post-war obstetrics, my birth was very problematic, with the result that both my mother and I almost died. After I was delivered the midwife realised there was a second baby and that is all I know, other than he or she did not make it.

Interestingly I only learned of this situation when I was in my early 40s and my wife commented during a programme on twins on the TV, “Well, as a twin you would understand that feeling.”  I was extremely puzzled and asked her what she meant. My late mother had told her of the circumstances of my birth but had never told me! I queried this with my brother and sister who both commented that they were surprised that I had never spoken of it. Strangely, I had always felt a huge sense of something missing and when I qualified a counsellor, I specialised in counselling twins, followed anything about twins on TV or literature and always knew it was really important to get the names of twins correct.

Some years later I discovered a UK organisation, The Lone Twin Network (LTN) which exists to support surviving twins who have lost their sibling. I always felt that as my twin had died at birth, I would probably be less affected than other people but I have never been able to shake off the sense of loss that I felt. Because my father died when I was seven years old, I always put my sense of loss down to his death and my attempts form close friendships to combat loss and loneliness was due to his death. During my childhood and adolescence I was not at all close to my younger brother and sister or to my mother so we drifted apart when I was 19 and I hardly saw them for some years.

TwinsAfter over 60 years I decided to address the issue finally. I had been a member of the LTN for several years and even set up a website for them but had never attended a meeting. On Saturday I went to a LTN regional meeting and met with some 25 or so other surviving twins in central Manchester. Although about half those present had attended previous meetings, there was a slight tension in the room but gradually as members started to share their stories, led by the organiser of the event and the chair of the LTN — both are named Jill coincidentally — everyone relaxed. Although the stories were deeply moving the meeting never became mawkish or depressing. I was shaken by the number of stories from the surviving twins who, like me, had lost their twin at birth. Most significantly I began to recognise traits in myself that the others spoke of. For instance, several had experienced real relationship problems with siblings which sadly had continued throughout their lives. Fortunately I’m now quite close to my brother and sister.

The biggest light bulb for me was a realisation that the real closeness I have never been able to find in friendships is probably unattainable. The simple reason is I was trying to replicate the intimacy of a relationship with my twin. Many of you may feel that because I never knew my twin after birth and indeed had never even been told about my twin until the second half of my life, my expectations are unrealistic. I can only say that nine months in the womb is a long time in a very small place. All of the other birth-lost twins expressed a similar view.

The recurring theme that was expressed time and time again in the group was how helpful it was to be an environment where everyone understood the unique loss that is only experienced by a twin losing their sibling. Several spoke of other family bereavements but none came close to the total devastation felt at the death of a twin.

BBC TV carried a programme recently in a couple of English regions about the LTN which resulted in 400 immediate hits on our website and a large increase in membership enquiries. With one birth in 50 being twins, it is no wonder that the work of the Lone Twin Network is so needed.

For more information email: info@lonetwinnetwork.org.uk or web: www.lonetwinnetwork.org.uk

It gets better – a message of hope

Sunday, October 23rd, 2011

Jamey Rodemeyer

It’s not easy writing a blog with leaking eyes that make the keyboard wet and the screen out of focus.  Yet again, I’ve read about a teenager who found the relentless bullying of his peers so unbearable, on 18 September 2011, he took his own life. Jamey Rodemeyer was 14 years old. He had written extensively of his pain and hurt on internet sites and students at his school added to his-face-to-face bullying by continuing the process online.

Jamey wrote on his Tumblr site on 9 September, ‘I always say how bullied I am, but no one listens. What do I have to do so people will listen to me?’  The day before died, he wrote: ‘No one in my school cares about preventing suicide, while you’re the ones calling me fag and tearing me down.’ The same day he posted online it was National Suicide Prevention Week. But still no one listened.

His mother Tracy Rodemeyer said that her son had been questioning his sexuality over the last year and that his fellow students picked up on it and used it to taunt and bully him.

Stories of people, so desperately distraught and isolated that they see no way forward but to take their own life, always distress me profoundly. I’ve never experienced severe depression so I find it difficult to understand the unbearable agony they’ve experienced. Yesterday, this was brought into sharp focus when my daughter-in-law arrived with our three grandchildren to collect my wife to go to a kid’s club. My 3 year-old grandson Logan’s face lit up with delight when he saw me, “Hello, Taid. Are you coming with us?” I felt so privileged and loved at that moment but when I went back into the house I thought about this blog that I was forming in my mind. How could I be sure that Logan would always feel the security and safety with his parents, grandparents and friends as he gets older and experiences the questions of youth and adolescence?

It made me undertake a personal commitment to my family, my friends and even people who are really just acquaintances that I would be there to listen and give non-judgemental support. I’d seek to keep my ‘antennae’ sensitive and finely tuned in coming days.

Vigil at Jamey's school

Vigil at Jamey's school

I spent a harrowing couple of hours researching teenage suicide on the internet but I’m not going to reproduce any of the statistics. Just one suicide by a teenager who feels their life has no value and nobody listens to them is one precious life too many that is lost.

Before I go on to bring some hope, I need to say how alarmed I was to find easily, sites that discussed suicide and even chat rooms. According to Papyrus, a UK group founded in 1997 to prevent young suicide, internet sites have ‘played a part’ in 39 known cases of suicide among young people.

One of the best movements of hope that has emerged in recent years is the “It Gets Better” movement which has a huge number of videos on YouTube made by people who had experienced bullying and were able to say eventually, it gets better. The movement emerged after a moving speech was given by Joel Burns, a Fort Worth, Texas Council member. Do take a few minutes to watch it on http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ax96cghOnY4 The YouTube “It Gets Better” videos include contributions by ordinary people, the great and the good, and videos by groups of employees from corporations like Apple, Google, Microsoft, Adobe and Sony – all moving, all important.

I’m going to take some risks in the days ahead because I’ve lost two adult friends to suicide. If I feel I’m seeing the danger signs of deep depression in someone, then I’ll do all I can to make that person feel safe and supported even if they accuse me of interfering. I’m going to support organisations like the Papyrus project in the UK and the Trevor Project in the USA. In the UK there is a helpline: HOPELineUK on 0800 068 4141 and in the USA 1-866-488 7386.

If you know someone who needs help; be an ally, be a friend, don’t stay quiet – help them.

O Captain! My Captain!

Wednesday, October 12th, 2011

Dead Poets Society logoYesterday, I watched Dead Poets Society, a 1989 film I last saw on its initial release. It’s surprising to me, as time has passed and I am 22 years older, how differently the film affected me. First time round, I was traumatised by how a bullying father could crush his shy son so much that the boy committed suicide. For that reason, I avoided watching the film on TV reruns. This time was very different. Prepared and forewarned, I saw very different dimensions.

Film scene - boys on desk

The boys rebel - scene from the film

John Keating (the charismatic teacher played by Robin Williams) encouraged the boys in his English Literature class to think for themselves and be self-reliant, not following the crowd. Today, as in the 50′s when the film was set, we live in a society where social pressures to conform result in youngsters making poor choices out of fear of standing out and we are fed attitudes about sections of society by fascist newspapers like the Daily Mail which perpetuate stereotypes and reinforce prejudice. Keating quoted lines from several American poets including Robert Frost, Walt Whitman and Henry David Thoreau which I realised I had absorbed over the years.

Here are some examples:

“I went down to the woods because I wished to live deliberately, to front only the essential facts of life, and see if I could not learn what it had to teach, and not, when I came to die, discover that I had not lived. I wanted to live deep and suck out all the marrow of life” (Thoreau)

“Two roads diverged in a wood, and I—
I took the one less travelled by,
And that has made all the difference. ” (Frost)

I found my ‘woods’ when I discovered hiraeth¹ and came home to Wales. Ever since, I’ve been shaking off, trimming, refining, pruning, exploring, immersing, enquiring, developing, destroying, building and undertaking new things I would never have dreamed of before. Biggest change has been putting 46 years of an active Christian faith under the spotlight. Out of that reappraisal, review, refining and reassessment has emerged a new core set of beliefs and values. They boil down to two things; God loves me and relationships are the most important thing in life. Maybe more of that in a future blog.

My taith² has changed direction and I’m planning to make sure I suck the marrow out of life for the years that remain for me. Probably, the most memorable line from the film to me was, “Carpe diem. Seize the day, boys. Make your lives extraordinary…”  That’s what I’m planning.

Oh, and why the title to this piece?  Back to the film. Keating introduces himself to the class saying, “O Captain, my Captain. Who knows where that comes from? Anybody? Not a clue? It’s from a poem by Walt Whitman about Mr. Abraham Lincoln. Now in this class you can either call me Mr. Keating, or if you’re slightly more daring, O Captain my Captain.”

So from now on, I’m happy to be called Paul but will answer happily to O Captain my Captain!

–oOo—

¹ Hiraeth – Another Welsh word with a complex meaning. It is about a profound longing, a homesickness and most importantly, a deep connection to the land of Wales.¹

² Taith – Welsh word meaning journey. But not just A to B, it means trek, adventure, quest, voyage and all that happens along the way.