26 December. I unwittingly tried to minimise change in my children’s worlds. Tried to protect them from the one thing they actually needed to learn to deal with. The one constant in the world we know. Change. I blame my control freak tendencies and forgive myself because my intentions were good, my motive was love. So I am grateful, so very grateful that I have learnt that whilst change can be painful, it can also be beautiful. If you embrace it. It is liberating, you grow from it, you learn a lot, not only about yourself but about others. And I most especially learnt what I was capable of. And not to be fearful. I know my girls have grown immeasurably too. I knew it for a fact today when I stumbled across this passage Kate had found meaningful enough in her book to capture. Things do change. And life doesn’t stop for anybody. I am grateful my girls know this. Really know it. And more importantly embrace it. Embrace the adventure of life, the ups and downs. And are learning not to take what they have right now for granted. And I’m grateful I no longer feel guilty they had to face fears I would rather they hadn’t, I now see it as a gift. To us all.
22 December. I am grateful to be at Serapa. It is in our blood. We are blessed to be able to share in the beauty that is here. Enhanced beyond measure by the red wine selected for the evening. Mostly I am simply grateful to my uncle, for sharing his world with us all.
My mom and dad just celebrated 50 years of marriage, my father just turned 75, I am 46, my elder brother 48 and my baby sister 42. We are all blessed with wonderful partners and daughters, we have forged our own way in this sometimes challenging but always wonderful world. Being together for Christmas is always a highlight, especially as we are all spread far and wide. So, why is it that within less than a day, we revert to our familial role? I become the cheeky opinionated outspoken controlling quite emotional and actually quite insecure middle child, my big brother lovingly puts me in my place with a slightly superior smirk, which just pisses me off, my mother puffs out of frustration and my dad gently keeps the peace. My baby sister chuckles quietly from the safety of Oz. Don’t get me wrong, I love it. Feeling safe enough to just be less than perfect. I love being loved no matter what. I love that no matter how old I am, it seems I am always someones daughter, someones sister and secure in the knowledge that no matter how hard I make it to love me, they do. It is a rare gift. I hope one day I get to spend christmas with my daughters and their partners and their families, seeing how much they’ve grown but knowing at heart they are still our little girls. But also not.