I am grateful for big girls who are still my precious little girls. The sight of Kate coming in to the lounge to tell me something clutching her iphone in one hand and Tem, her first ever teddy in the other, is just too precious. The teddy was a gift from B’s parents, shortly before his dad,Tem passed away. Tem is who both Kate and Jem choose to cuddle when either are feeling sick or sad. I am grateful for the love my children have for the grandfather they never really knew. But clearly do.
Today I am grateful for fun family moments. And double-takes. B went out early, leaving me in bed on my laptop. He got back a short while later, walked in and started chatting to me still in bed on my laptop. I overheard him telling me to stop using my face cream because it had taken thirty years off my life. I walked back into the room, to see Kate in bed on my laptop. In exactly the same pose I had been in when he left. Needless to say B and I were in hysterics, while Kate just looked on, as if to say, lame. It was funny, I promise.
I can’t talk to you if you don’t look at me. To me it is as if you don’t hear me. I know we all think we are good at doing lots of things at once ( I hate the word multitasking, because its crap) but I absolutely believe then we don’t really do anything well at all. And sometimes good enough is good enough and that’s just life. But I think whatever you are doing deserves all your attention. Or none at all. Just for that moment. And it is possible. Just stop doing everything, the world won’t stop. B loves my most favourite quote of all time and throws it back at me often. As he should. ‘Be still. Cease your relentless participation’. That’s why its all become a bit shitty and fucked up. We are all so busy doing everything we don’t focus on anything. Or anyone. Surely we should respect each another enough to just focus on each other. Just for that moment. If you are a parent, I bet you have all had that moment when your young child put their little hands on both sides of your face and made you look at them and listen to them. I can just picture my face getting all squished as Kate or Jem physically forced me to look at them. To focus on them. How exquisite. Really. Well, that’s what I feel like doing to everyone. I need you to respect me enough to look at me when I talk to you. And don’t let me get on to those who look over your shoulder to see if they’re missing out on anything. Cease. Just for a moment. I am here. Right now. Look at me. And see me. Or move on. My family know this. Just this morning B covered Jem’s eyes while I was trying to get her to listen to me. I need to see her eyes. I need her to look at me so I know she has heard me. They thought it was hilarious. I didn’t. Well, not really.
I have a friend who skydives. And so does her son, who is 11. And in Jem’s grade. For some reason this came up over breakfast, and Jem wondered how he was not scared to do it. I replied probably because he’s grown up with it. For him it just is what you do. To him it isn’t different, it just is. His family does it and so does he. It’s a fairly adventurous family thing I went on to admit, but for him it would be the same as the family who play tennis together, who cycle together, who hike together or like us, who …. shit, I couldn’t think of something to say. By way of an example. We play tennis, some of us but not as a regular family thing. We kayak, some of us but not as a regular weekend family thing. We walk, some of us, but not as a regular weekend family thing. We beach, but no longer all together so it’s not a regular weekend family thing. Shit, what is our family thing. I finally lamely settled on, just like us, we do breakfast out together as a regular family thing. Jem sort of looked at me. Clearly not a good enough example. Oh, well, stuff it, it is what it is, and thats our thing. We share ourselves with each other. Over breakfast out. That’s our family thing and I think that’s damn fine.
I am grateful for the perfect end to the perfect day. Beach for all, stand up paddling for some, surfing for others, naps for some, shopping on Hastings street for others, evening sundowners on the river for all. I am very grateful to be able to call this paradise home. For now. And especially grateful for being able to share it with my family.
I am so grateful today that I have access to skype, which for a moment brought my brother into my lounge. I feel so guilty that he is carrying the load of being the only sibling in town whilst my dad is needing our support. Seeing and sharing his frustration and hearing his chuckles made it so much easier to bear.
grace and dignity 