Is it just me? Is it just me who lashes out when they mean to do the opposite. Who pushes away when they want to be held? Who gets angry when they are really just sad? B has stayed behind in South Africa for a month. I said I was okay with it, because I am. But I’m also not. I hate him not being here. I joke that I never signed up to be a single mom, and it is a joke. Sort of. I am better at everything when he is here. I am okay with it because I now know I can cope with most things I may have to encounter. I am okay with it, because we need me to be. And I will make the most of it, as will he. And I will find the moments to remind me of how blessed I am, how blessed we are, and it will be okay. But just for tonight I’ll blame extended jet lag, late nights, sunday night blues, not speaking to B for a while for my sadness, and for me being tired of having to be okay.

big picture

I’ve been accused of not focusing on the big picture. A few times now. And that’s the point actually. Of my musings. Of my grateful posts. That often because we are so concerned about the big picture we don’t see what’s right in front of us. The little picture. Right now. The beauty. And the reality. Yes, in the galah, in the trees, in my kids doing their homework, in me laughing at myself over my reaction to Ikg, in my relationship with B. It is all about the little picture. The big picture is made up of little things. Little picture things that we can deal with. In that way we cope with the big picture. Because often the big picture is just too much to deal with. I felt a little affronted at being judged in that way. Just for a moment. And that’s okay, because then I let it go. Because I know the issue was not mine. And I do feel empathy. And I know this is my story, my musings, my experience. When I was faced with the reality of my own mortality, I realise I did start to focus on the little picture. Equally when I knew we had to come to Australia. Because the big picture was just too confronting. It’s the little things that helped me cope. The little things that really mattered. The stroke of my bald head. Doing homework with my girls. The reassuring smile of a stranger. My doctor’s voice. My children’s smiles. A song. A walk in the park. A cup of coffee with B and yes the 1kg that I could do something about.  So, I will continue every single day to find the little picture things that I am so grateful for. I will continue to look at and share the little picture, because I believe, little picture by little picture, that is the big picture.

bad day

It’s a funny thing. And Susie, you’ll laugh at this. It’s a funny thing but the checkout girls and guys at Woolies don’t ask me how my day is anymore. Or what I’ve been doing. Or what I’ll be doing for the rest of the day. I only realised that today. Just to backtrack a bit, I had a little not big picture stuff rant a while ago, and not at the employees, but the management, who make these often very young checkout kids ask me about my day, what I did and what I’m going to do. I know it’s their job, but they don’t really care. And why should they. It’s just a job with an auto prompt.  I do believe just a smile and a how are you would do it on both parties side, unless we choose to engage further. It’s not really necessary otherwise to initiate this false banter. I feel for them and I really feel for me. We could all do without the potentially awkward moment. Today I realised they hadn’t asked me for a while. I thought yay, management have realised what a crock of shit it is. But then I noticed the lady at the checkout counter behind me was being asked. So it was just me. It’s just been me a few times then. I do engage, and smile sweetly and kindly because I do know it’s not their fault but clearly they can see it in my eyes. Don’t ask me how my day has been because I just might tell you.