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.
I was given so many books to read during my initial cancer treatment, mostly very uplifting and motivational. It will give you some insight into my feelings at the time that the only one I related to was titled … “It’s not like that, actually“. By Kate Carr. As in, it’s not the best thing that ever happened to me. It was not a blessing as it forced me to re-evaluate things. It was not my aha moment. It’s not something you want to chat to your kids about. And if another person or book told me that I think I would scream. I wasn’t feeling it. And I felt guilty that I wasn’t feeling it. This lady was the only one who seemed to really get it, get me. It’s not like that actually. It’s bloody awful, bloody unfair, bloody lonely, bloody scary, bloody confronting, bloody terrible for children, family and friends…. it just is. Well. It just was for me. And for Kate Carr. But writing why me? a few days ago, I realised that now, 4 ish years later I’m finally getting what they meant. By the blessing. But I’m also getting how much of a strategy for living, avoidance is for me. I thought about this a lot at tennis today. We were talking about mortality and how unexpected tragedies, especially involving loved ones, suddenly makes you face your own. And how most of us would rather never have to. And how being forced to can actually be a blessing. Because you have to acknowledge the impermanence of it all. The reality of what is and what will be. The beauty of what we have right now. And not to take it for granted. To hug a little tighter, to love that much more, to tell everyone how you feel more often, to be kinder, to be more grateful. To stop playing avoidance. And to find the time to discuss that will.
I am grateful for boiled eggs. On rainy days. Perfectly soft boiled eggs with white toast fingers. And the warmth of moments past. And also for beautiful Alessi egg cup holders. I am trying not to be so attached to stuff but nice stuff really does make even a perfectly soft boiled egg taste better. And sometimes makes life seem a little better. Even if just for that little moment.
I’ve been a bit of a grump the past couple of days. I think it’s because our trip home is now only a week away. And whilst I know that should excite me, and it does, and remains one of my gratefuls, it still unnerves me. As it does every year. Because of what it holds. It means I can’t so effectively play avoidance anymore. I can’t pretend I am not fearful of what my doctors might find. I can’t pretend I’m not hopeful that they might tell me all is clear, and no further treatment required. And to be honest, I think that scares me the most of all, no, not the most, but a lot. Because then I will be on my own. Thinking about the possibility of not having someone there checking me all the time feels a little scary. No medication, no implants, no blood tests, no CT scans, no ultrasounds, no three monthly examinations and chats. I know I should be yahoo at the prospect, and I probably will be, eventually. But right now I feel unnerved. And a bit of a fraud too, because I like to believe it’s all up to me, that I am on the right path now. But suddenly, I’m feeling a lot less certain.
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.
Today I am grateful for a smile from a complete stranger. It seems I belong to a club without meaning to. Most days I get at least a nod, or a hand wave. Today I got a lovely smile. Funnily just when I needed one. A smile from a fellow Jeep driver. Its like an acknowledgement of similar taste. Of similar uncommon taste, because there aren’t that many around here. Jeep’s are unique, robust, uncomplicated, fun and quite basic. Yet kind of cool. It’s funny, the only other time that used to happen was with B’s Landy. Not with the Discovery but the dinkum Landy, which was equally unique, robust, uncomplicated, fun and quite basic. It definitely never happened with the Volvo, which was none of the above. Maybe that’s why. Anyway, I digress … today it felt wonderful to belong to this club that’s not a club. I am very very grateful for that uncomplicated smile today.
Mmmmm. I have now been accused of wanting to control. Well, this is nothing new. See control freak. I have been accused of being non Christian. I never professed to be anything but one that believes in good. I have been accused of being self absorbed. Well this is my blog. About me. I think we all are a little bit, and should be if we are on a journey of self discovery. I have indirectly been accused of not liking criticism. And no, I don’t. But then who does. And I do believe that those who criticise should look to themselves rather. But I especially do not like being criticised for sharing my views. For sharing me. I am not for one minute saying they should be anyone else’s views. They are mine, based on my life thus far, my journey thus far. My journey towards understanding why I am so controlling, so insecure, so quick to ignite, why I got cancer, how scared I am, how I try to be a good mother and wife and friend, but fuck up. Because I am not perfect, and if you know me, if you care enough to understand me, you would know that is the one thing I have battled my whole life to reconcile. The fact that I am good enough. So, this is all about being honest. And sharing that. And if that makes you uncomfortable, you have many choices. You could choose to no longer follow this arrogant, self absorbed, controlling, areligious African Queen’s blog. (Oh yes, I have been accused of being an African Queen. I am proud of being African, I am proud of where I’ve come from, I do not believe I am better because I am African, I just am) Or you could choose to ignore the stuff you can’t relate to and think about the stuff you can relate to. Or you can choose to realise we all react differently based on our own realities. This is just mine. Not arrogant, not judgemental, quite self effacing and actually quite honest. I fuck up all the time. I forget my kids. I speak badly to my family. I envy my friends. I like people to look at me when they talk to me. I focus on what I don’t have rather than what I do have. Hence my blog. MY blog. I love to hear everyone’s views, but I am not keen on being bullied for thinking the way I do. How about you sticking your neck out and standing up for what you believe. My dignity is intact. Is yours?
I love living above the best pizza place in town. I am grateful for ‘like homemade’ pizza’s, thin crispy bases overflowing with fresh basil or rocket. But my real grateful today is for the person I shared pizzas with tonight. The first person I met in Noosa. Properly met. The first person who really made me feel welcome. Tamara has been around in my new life for nearly four years. She was the first person I met who I could talk to and laugh with. Yes, Tam is from Zim and that did help when I first arrived, surrounded by difference, but it’s more than that. She is full of shit, she is controversial, she is affectionate, she is naughty, she is heaps of fun, she does not judge, she is different to me in many ways, she is like me in many ways. She just is. She really makes me laugh, and I know she would be there, no matter what and no matter when. And for that I am grateful.
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.
Today I am grateful for a smooth red. Very grateful. And for us having found our local Alto Rouge. I don’t think I need to say much more than that.
grace and dignity 