Post Number 60 - Turning 90

It's been a few weeks since the "lost car" incident and I have spent the last weeks studying for exams.  The weekend in Mt Gambier proved to be a welcome relief and I spent time with lovely members of Mark's family who I wouldn't usually see.  It was wonderful for Sebastian to also get to know some auntie's and uncles and again concrete his awareness that his family is bigger than he realises.

The weekend was a great success and driving the "old girl" was also a real treat.  But the drive home seemed long and tiresome, much longer than usual.  Almost like I was alone driving this car and no longer had the assistance from Mark.  Lately I have struggled to feel his presence and I wonder if he is still with us.  Sebastian has also been having troubles sleeping and didn't seem his normal self.  He asked me to arrange a Reiki healing which I promptly did, and the results from this session seem to be that he is going through a stage of "letting go".  This seemed to be consistent with his behaviour patterns and it was good to see him feel better again, the heavy load in his head released.  I also had a session to release some of the stresses of past weeks and allow my body to relax and hormone levels to equalise.

That night both of us slept a deep and restful sleep, again reminding us of the importance of listening to our bodies and attending to our emotions as the needs arise.

Once home again, it was time to seriously organise my Mum's 90th Birthday.  She was not going to have any part in any kind of celebration.  I couldn't invite this person or that person.  This venue was not suitable nor was that one. Everything was too expensive and not worth it as we had bills to pay and Christmas is just around the corner.  It was excuse after excuse, argument after argument and it was truly exhausting but eventually a venue was agreed upon. Then I made an appointment to attend a local hairdresser for a simple cut and blow-wave. Considering she hadn't seen a proper hairdresser in years, I felt it was about time.  Again, day after day, excuse after excuse, until at last, I took her to the appointment and stayed to ensure she had a style that she was happy with.

So yesterday was the big day for her party and it was pleasing to see, that in the final week leading up to the party, she had decided to embrace it and starting inviting people from all over. From a function of barely having ten people, we now had the potential of twenty people turning up.  In a panic, I added extra catering, organised a cake and hoped for the best.


And as it turned out, it was a lovely, heartfelt afternoon with fancy
homemade finger food and some lovely people who were truly happy to see her and spend the afternoon with her.  She fussed around at first, but then settled in to enjoy the afternoon, showing photos and telling stories, playing piano and telling German folk-tales.  Sebastian was also a star attraction.  His youth, good manners and beautiful piano playing, made him the second centre of attention. He also seemed to enjoy performing piano and when the time came, he played Happy Birthday nice and loudly and perfectly and everyone sang along.  It was such an amazing afternoon, I couldn't have asked it to run any better.  Once all packed up and back home again, Mum continued to chat about the day and I haven't seen her so happy in a very long

time.  It warmed my heart and the arguments and frustrations melted away, although I was now totally spent, physically and emotionally and all I wanted to do was play video games with Sebastian.


I was so proud of him, as the entire afternoon from Noon til 5pm had been consumed with this party and he helped in every way that he could.  He never complained about it being boring, just chatted to people, helped with all the loading and unloading and played piano to entertain the guests.  Mum seemed to finally realise just how special her grandson is.  I reminded her that not many seven year olds would handle five hours of time with old people without a single complaint and I think she finally understood.  Eventually I managed to get out to Mark's old man-cave office and Seb and I played and played and enjoyed our time together.  This boy really is one in a million and I give gratitude every day that I have him in my life. 

So now I have four days of study left before my final exam of the year.  Today was particularly difficult to get of our bed and everyone in the house seemed to sleep in.  I tried hard to study today, but the brain needs a little more sleep, so tomorrow I will try again.  All I can think about is all the things I want to do after this exam on Saturday.  Painting, cleaning, cooking, gardening, Christmas shopping and decorating.  Relaxing, swimming, bike riding, reading...the list is endless.  I only hope I can retain enough information to pass the exam and then I can truly relax for twelve wonderful weeks of summer bliss! Ah...I can taste the Pina Colada already!

Post Number 59 - What Grief Can Do

Literally thirty minutes after my last post, after feeling so smug and smart with myself, I received a phone call.  It was the police and they called to advise that they had recovered my car!  In shock, I asked where it was, only to be told, "at Glenelg, a street up further from where you stated you parked it!" WHAT??  That can't be.  I jumped in the hire car and raced down there.  The policeman was very nice and told me not to worry and that it has happened to many people.

As I drove, I recollected that evening.  I wasn't rushing and was feeling quite relaxed after a Reiki session that I had had that morning.  I racked my brain about everything I did, what streets I drove down, how quiet Glenelg was on that Monday night and how smug I felt about parking in a "free" car park so close to the Hotel.  But my car was parked quite a ways from the hotel.  No broken glass, no damage at all to the car.  Parking tickets on the window only 5 days old, yet it had supposedly been there for 23 days! Did I really park it here and just forget?  It doesn't sit right with me.  I remember parking in a two car park and yet it was now standing in a three car park, sandwiched between two other cars.  I remember looking for car parking signs to ensure I didn't have to buy a ticket, none seen on the night, yet now there was a 2 hour parking sign right next to the car.  I remember looking up and seeing the hotel and noticing how close I was, yet from this car park, the hotel view was blocked by other buildings.  Absolutely nothing made sense to me.  I thought seeing the car would jolt my memory and I would embarrassingly say "oh no, yes I remember now, I did park here not over there", but no such memory emerged.  Instead, I burst in to tears and blurted out to the police officer, " I didn't park it here, I didn't park it here".  "It's ok", the police officer kept saying.  "The car is in perfect order, no damage has been done and I have already contacted the council and you don't have to pay the parking tickets."

I inspected the car, looked inside the windows as my keys had been posted to the insurance company, so I was unable to open it up.  Everything inside looked as it should be.  The blanket folded neatly on the back seat, my sunglasses in the centre console, Sebastian's booster seat in the back.  "How could this of happened?", I kept asking myself.  "Have I truly lost my mind?" How could I face the world and tell them that the car had not been taken at all? Could I have lost part of my memory of that night?

I know the brain can do funny things.  People will often say that they forget where they put their keys or often forget which floor of the carpark they left their car.  I understand that feeling, of course, we have all done it.  But this is very different, as I truly feel that I can remember, yet, supposedly, I can't. Is it possible that I remember some things but have lost a part of my memory,  the part where I walked three times the distance than I thought I did?  That I remember walking up the street and noticing the houses and thinking this is where I parked rather than where I walked? It's giving me a headache, trying to figure it all out.

The three people who already know about this situation (excluding those I live with) have told me to not be hard on myself and that I should be happy that the car is back and not damaged, and that I hadn't yet signed up on another car, although I was literally days away of doing that.  The whole insurance payout was halted, hours before a money transfer. 

I'm not angry with myself.  I'm not saying to myself, "you stupid woman, what's wrong with you", but rather, "what happened? are you really sure? could you have? if so, what is happening to you?" I'm scarred.  Really scarred.  If I really parked there, and the evidence says I did, then what is happening to my brain?  Can I ever truly trust myself again? No wonder I have trouble studying for exams. It's not that I don't know the information, it's just that I can't remember it all.  My brain just doesn't seem to have the capacity. 

I know what you're thinking.  "Oh poor thing, she has been through so much and is under so much stress, it could happen to anyone".  I agree. But I still don't buy it.  I know grief effects the body physiology, that is a fact.  I also know that prolonged stress has major implications to the physiology on the body, also a fact.  Which is exactly why I had attended to these things with diet, Reiki and Chinese Acupressure, to counteract the effects of prolonged stress, and yet, here I am, writing this ridiculous story, in an attempt to give you some understanding of how grief changes you as a person.  It's not about feeling sad for your loss, it's not about depression, it's not about trying to forget what you have lost, and it's not about time will heal, even though those things can and do play a part. 

As you know, I am quite a capable person.  Sometimes I boast about it a little too much and I have been wondering why I do that.  Am I seeking approval, a pat on the back perhaps? Maybe. But maybe I was also trying to tell myself, by telling the world, that I am okay, when actually, the truth is, I'm not. I'm not okay.  I'm surviving, but that's not life.  I'm trying to be strong and a good role model for Sebastian, when really, I just want to crawl in a hole and die.  I want to create a lovely afternoon tea for my Mother's 90th birthday, but all she does is fight me on everything.  No matter what I do, it's no good, too much, too far, too expensive.  I have done nothing but scream at her for days.  And by scream, I mean scream so hard I strain my vocal cords.  Today I resorted to stamping my feet and jumping up and down, to try to get her to understand something.  She doesn't listen, won't listen, can't hear and won't bend.   Yesterday, I had a feeling that I burst a blood vessel in my brain.  I know we joke about it sometimes, but I actually had a physical feeling of something go pop! I think my whole body will go "pop" or "boom", just like in one of Sebastian's Treehouse Story books, where people's head blow off, but they just pick them up and pop them back on again and all is well!

I should be studying for an exam that I have this afternoon.  A practical exam where I show my skills at questioning a patient and recording their information.  I have practiced this many times and I was feeling confident.  But now I can't seem to get it together.  Maybe after getting all this off my chest and crying yet another river, I may be able to pull myself together and fake it for this afternoon.  Maybe going to Mt Gambier for the weekend will give me some much needed relief or maybe it will exacerbate it? I really don't know.  I really truly don't know.