My new Facebook profile picture received lots of lovely comments – young, pretty, relaxed, peaceful, happy, content, gentle being just a few of them. I like it, it shows me how I like to imagine myself.
It’s cut from a larger picture. One that shows me as I hate to imagine myself, with the far too huge breasts that make me feel permanently self-conscious, frumpy, too old, too lumpy, not sexy, not attractive. Amazing what zooming in to the detail can do.
But with some tints and shades, a bit of a cover up and a slight change of reality, you can hide a multitude of things and a multitude of feelings. Just before that photo, Amelie took another one, which shows me much more how I really am – arms across my breasts, rather rumpled, rather haggard.
They remind me of this photo though (same top), when I definitely was looking happy and young and in as good a place as I could be. I like being reminded of this. And compared to my belly, one with Freddie as alive as he was ever to be, my boobs look small!
Poor Josie.
What does this picture show? Well, in the middle there is the bear my dad bought me when my mum was giving birth to me, when he was sent out of the room and told both of us might die. For my whole life, I’ve held that bear tight when things have gone wrong and I’ve needed a little slice of comfort. Around it are the 4 Merrythought bears my dad bought for each of the girls, above is Max and I on our wedding day and below are a picture of Freddie, one of the 7 of us together (the only one) and one of the first time I held Freddie, when he opened his eyes and peeped at me.
Unfortunately, a doll given to Freddie by a lovely friend has to stand in place of Freddie’s bear because my dad never bought him one. My dad left the country – and with it my mum – on the day of Freddie’s funeral and isn’t coming back. And that washes backwards; it means I can no longer pick up my bear and that the girls’ bears are tainted with betrayal. It means no bear for Freddie would ever be accepted now. It means everything about what I thought he held dear in my childhood family in terms of trust and love and honesty and togetherness is broken and rusted away and can’t be replaced. It means nothing about my childhood will ever look okay, because he has tipped the dirty paint water over it and the colours have run.
I wonder if I can make that look better in sepia?
Nope. Too much lost. Too much to hold on to.
Gill says
*gasp* You’ve had that to deal with as well?? My parents divorced a few years ago – totally devastating.
(((Merry))) Doing well to be still standing IMO xx (Great pics of you)
Wish I could think of more and helpful things to say, but I can’t.
Lynn says
This struck a chord. My mother entered into a relationship with a close family friend, almost immediately after my father died. It was obvious the reationship was not entirely new. Nothing about my childhood, my childhood home or my dad has been left untarnished by that. I’m no longer in contact with my mother.
So sorry you have to go through that on top of everything else. And I think your photos look great – ALL of them.
Lins says
Oh my. I can’t believe you’ve been dealing with that too. I’m so very sorry to hear that.
I was really interested in your photos and your commentary on them. Us women are so harsh on ourselves aren’t we? Even after all these years I am always surprised by my photos. I don’t look how I expect! (or want of course). You look great to me btw!
merry says
Mmmm. It’s been difficult. It’s been a lot for the girls to cope with. We didn’t tell them to start with but they’ve known for a while and it has shaken their core. Brothers are not supposed to die, grandparents are not supposed to separate. And certainly not in the same couple of weeks.
Sue says
Oh Merry (((hug))) – so much all at once 🙁
My dad did the same thing six years ago; it shocked us to the core, tipped my world upside down, made me question my very existence. And I wasn’t having to deal with anything else at the time.
Time does, gradually, heal that one – or so I’ve found. I re-built my world slowly, I saw the wounds in their marriage over many years as they were, rather than through my rose-coloured glasses. I remembered the love we all knew from my dad in childhood and that it was real. My sons recovered a lot faster than I did.
He remarried a year later to someone we weren’t keen on, who I’m sure was a major catalyst in his leaving … but now, six years later, I can see that both parents have moved on, they’re more contented, and my dad is well looked after. The relationships will never be the same, but I no longer feel I’ve lost my dad entirely.
Maybe one day you’ll be able to reclaim some of your love for him, and a new relationship, although I imagine it will be much harder since it will forever be tied in your mind with Freddie’s short life, and that’s a grief that will be with you, one way or another, forever.
((((more hugs)))))
kellyi says
I had to read the paragraph about your Dad several times over, because it was madness and it didn’t make sense to me, and probably not to you either. 🙁
I like your profile picture and the other two as well but sympathise with the whole photo thing. I would say that 90% of the photos of me are baaaaaad and being one who is somewhat lacking in the breast area, I have boob envy! xo
merry says
Most of all, I’m afraid for him. But that doesn’t alter much. Not yet. I doubt ever really. I’m not a forgiving sort of person any more. If people let me down, then I don’t think I feel particularly inclined to waste energy fixing it. Marriages ending, fresh starts, those i can handle. That I actually expected. But jumping ship because the glitzy yacht passing looks like the thing you always wanted. Pah.
I’m being careful because I never know if the girls read this now.
merry says
And as with so many other things in life where it feels like I’m the only one to have experienced it, I’m touched by the stories you have to tell that reassure me I’m not alone. Thanks 🙂
Jeanette (Lazy Seamstress) says
Merry, I have a bear almost identical to yours, she’s called Susan, and lives on a shelf at the bottom of my bed. My grandma Florence bought it for me.
You do look lovely in those photos btw. X
merry says
Oh we should get Orange Ted and Susan together and they can get married. I’ve never known another bear like him!
Claire says
I do like Nicki sitting on Orange Ted’s lap!! And you do look heaps younger in those photos!! xx
mamacrow says
OH MY GOD!!!! Well he sure sucks at timing, if you don’t mind me saying so.
You look fabulous in all your photos – not haggered in that 4th one I don’t think, it’s just the way you’re leaning into the light – the shadows play up your face, rather interestingly really xxx
Allie says
Oh my God, Merry. Life has really been ferociously hard on you of late.
I think you look beautiful – real – in all those pictures. x
Ailbhe says
Oh, my goodness. Good grief.
Catherine W says
I think you look beautiful.
My jaw just absolutely dropped reading about your dad. I’m so sorry. I can’t imagine how painful that must be, without even starting on his timing. The bears are lovely but I can see why they don’t bring you happiness any more.