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.
21 December. There is something about being with my mom and dad that stills me. I am grateful for homecomings and especially that we made it in time to celebrate a shared twelfth birthday.
19 December. I am grateful we made it to Sydney, for my own words whispered in my ear by my sweetest Jem, mom, this too will pass, and for the best sister imaginable.
18 December. I am grateful for the mundane, the chores of life. Just getting on with things like please mommy you promised I could get a haircut, has kept me focussed, strong and able. You know, a girls gotta do what a girls gotta do.
17 December. I am grateful for sleep. It seems to be a little out of my grasp at the moment, so each little moment is precious. Just precious. A true escape. I’m assuming this was taken by B out of love and not just relief.
This is the closest I came to Hastings street today. I am grateful for a world where if you can’t get to it, it can get to you. And for partner who looks after me. No matter what that means. Like running a bath for me at 3am. Or bringing me my favourite coffee. You’re right angel, I am only little. And you are the best. Thank you.
12 December. As much as I dreaded my op I have to admit I was quite looking forward to the enforced bed rest. A bit messed up, I know. And it was a perfect overnight stay, drifting in and out of sleep due to the anaesthetic and a wonderful concoction of painkillers, reading a trashy romance novel, thanks Mel, and being waited on hand and foot. But despite this sad indictment on my life, I am beyond grateful to be home. And for the smile. You just gotta love teenagers.
11 December. I am grateful today is nearly over. And for the most beautiful flowers thoughtfully chosen especially for me from those I love. Both near and far. They and the sight of my gorgeous daughters, their cousins, my sister and B made the day more than bearable. You guys, all of you, really do complete me.
9 December. PJ’s, The Black Keys, mad morning dancing and gay abandon. I am grateful the girls feel free here. Free to be mad. Free to be loud. I am loving our home.
grace and dignity 