A family realignment

A month ago Chef told me he didn’t think he loved me anymore. Subsequent events show he lied, he actually doesn’t love me anymore.

Within a month he has completely extricated himself from our lives. In a whole month he’s seen – or been in their presence would be a better description – the boys for about 2.5hrs.

He packed up his life in 10 green garbage bags.

He took the PlayStation and the xBox1.

We have been together for 23 years. He packed up all his belongings four days before our 17 year wedding anniversary.

And me? I’m fine. No really, I am fine. I’m shocked at how fine I am.

The boys’ world has been obliterated and we are navigating the new terrain together. It’s rocky and unknown but we shall be fine.

 

Onward.

 


Everything’s the same, everything’s different

The world is a place where everything can feel so nebulous and yet our feet are so firmly on the ground, somedays so heavy they feel gripped by roots, dragging us deep into the earth. How can two extremes play out at exactly the same time? How can it feel like everything can disappear in an instant and yet onward we tread, as if there is no choice.

Discovering that there is comes from a dark loneliness deep in the woods of our minds, where there are voices and terrifying sounds and not a glimpse of sunlight to guide the way out. I’ve been there, too many times as if once was not enough. The pain of that place is excruciating, like there is a vice around your head and nowhere to run. The news about Robin Williams has rocked so many of us. If someone so talented, so successful, so revered can’t find his way out of that forest what hope is there for the rest of us battling those demons every day? One of the oldest friends of a friend of mine took her own life two weeks ago. A month ago a plane of innocent people was shot out of the sky. At the moment there are innocent people of a religious minority trapped by religious extremists on a mountainside in Iraq.

It goes on and on. What on earth are we to do? Somehow we get up and live another day. We love our kids, we speak with loud voice when things are not just and fair, we make dinner, we eat all the feelings and despite the most of unlikely of odds we keep going. Sometimes doing that is so very hard. But we make that choice.

Onward.


New Favourite

It seems gauche to call this a favourite but Katie Noonan’s haunting version of I am Australian for the MH17 memorial service is just beautiful.

 

 


Darkness

A dreadful thing happened today. Dreadful? Unimaginable? What word comes even close to encompassing what happened.

298 innocent people were killed by men fighting over borders. Oh sure they’ll argue it’s about so much more than that but I can’t shake my immediate reaction of “fucking men and their fucking weapons”.

They say it was a Russian separatist surface-to-air missile that brought down flight MH17 because Ukraine doesn’t have that military capability. I wonder how Russia talk its way out of this one.

They say there could be up to 100 people on that flight who were coming to Australia for the world’s largest AIDS conference. Scientists, doctors, activists working on life-changing, world-changing projects.

They say flights were banned over the region to 32,000 feet. MH17 was flying at 33,000. Who do you think makes that call when they’re aiming their missiles?

They say in the 28 Australians was a Grandpa bringing his three grand children home so they could go back to school while their mum and dad had a few extra days holiday.

I can’t stop thinking about that mother and that all she must want is to get to her babies.

Then I see pictures of people just walking over the crash site.

Sacred ground.

298 people dead but thousands of lives changed forever.


Little

Do you remember being little?

I remember a yellow terry-towelling shorts jumpsuit.

Joy, my next door neighbour who I’d go and visit almost daily.

My walking Wendy doll I tied a ruler to so she’d stand up straight.

Mum gardening.

Tang.

The trailer of sand permanently parked on our front lawn that me and my brother would play in with matchbox cars.

I remember my Berenstain Bears treehouse.

The wooden two story dolls house.

I remember family gatherings being loud and always with the same food (roast lamb, veggies, fruit cake).

Lime cordial.

Tennis lessons where I was one of the select few taken into a separate room to practice our right and left.

Salads only ever consisting of iceberg lettuce, cucumber and tomato. Cubed cheese made it fancy. Those weird dressings where fake herbs were suspended in the bottle.

A hidey-hole in the garden behind the camellias.

My very own play area under our house where I’d play schools with Wendy Walker (standing up straight).

The wallpaper in my room of teeny tiny purple flowers.

My womble night-light.

 

Isn’t it funny we have these memories with vast blackness between them. Why can’t I remember losing teeth and my permanent teeth coming in. I mean, that’s a pretty big deal. But nup. Not a memory to jog.

I remember a lot of stuff through the prism of adulthood, layering meaning where perhaps it doesn’t belong so I like these snippets, just remembering them for what they were.

What do you recall?

Onward.

 

Related Posts Plugin for WordPress, Blogger...