Post Number 49 - Summer School Holidays

As I reflect back over the past three weeks I am reminded of just how much time Sebastian and I have had together.  In fact, we have not been apart hardly at all.  Sebastian started the year by attending swimming classes to help him to refresh his water skills and become more confident in pools.  We also had one or two catch-ups with friends, but mostly, it has been just the two of us.  One would imagine, after spending so much time together, that we would want to have a break from one another, but this has not been the case.  In fact, we seem to always run out of time to do all the things we want to do, whether that be playing video games, drawing, colouring, constructing, going to the movies, going out for a meal or going to the beach.  Not once have we become bored or felt the need to do our own thing. 

With the new Star Wars Movie out in the cinemas, I wondered whether Sebastian was ready to watch these epic movies and understand the storyline.  For such a long time Mark and I have wanted to introduce him to this story from a galaxy far far away, but always felt he did not have the maturity to handle the storyline, the endless violence and the scary characters.  I know many people introduce their children to these movies as well as other science fiction programs at a much younger age, but as parents, we felt this was inappropriate.  Sebastian is very sensitive and until recently, didn't comprehend the concept of Hollywood, actors and storylines, even though we had tried many times to explain it.  But it seemed that he had finally understood story/film vs real life, so I decided to try him on the first episode of Star Wars, the story of young Anakin, the character who later becomes Darth Vader.  I explained a lot to him before we started and together we watched "Episode I-The Phantom Menace".  He loved it and was "hooked" straight away.  Then each day, we watched the next episode and the next, until we had watched all six movies in the order of the story rather than the order of the movie release dates.  Finally the story became completely clear to me and I seemed to understand more about these characters than ever before.

Then finally we went to the cinemas to watch the new episode VII.  Originally concerned about its "M" rating, I was soon reassured by those who had seen it, that it was no more violent than any of the other episodes.  We both loved the film and Sebastian has not stopped talking about Star Wars ever since.

So we have been going along well, or so I thought.  Basically, we are both like two rubber bands stretched tight and when everything is going along well, we are both fine, happy and content.  But it does not take much to push either one of us over the edge and we lose all common sense, logic and control of our emotions.

One day in particular, was a very very bad day.  Every-day life had taken a low priority and sometimes I wondered who was the parent in this relationship.  Housework and cleaning up long overdue, I explained to Sebastian that I really needed to spend some time getting things in order, but once this was all done, we would spend the rest of the afternoon playing Skylanders or the new Star Wars Disney Infinity that I couldn't resist but buy days after seeing the movie (like I said, who is the adult here cos I'm not sure). 

The ever faithful Sebastian was always close by, willing to help out and I was willing to give him jobs to speed up the process.  One of the jobs was to empty the blow up pool that we had set up, which was now dirty and full of mosquito lavae.  I asked him to put away all the water toys that he had been using while the pool was in action and to my surprise, he just flat-out refused.  I asked him again and again and he started telling me that it didn't need to be done right now and that it could be left until later.  After several discussions, I lost the plot completely, accusing him of talking back and making me cross and slowing me down in my work.  I threatened to cancel the afternoon of video games, which he happily accepted, which made me even wilder.  I screamed and ranted at him and told him to go away.

Later that morning, we did a grocery shop and as we were leaving, we talked about our cancelled plans and that maybe we could still do them if he promised not to talk back to me again and to explain the real reason why he didn't want to do something that I had asked of him, rather than argue with me, as the real reason for his defiance was due to him not wanting to go inside the house by himself all alone.  He agreed and the cancelled plans were un-cancelled.

However, it was not long until another problem struck and again, I was screaming like a banshee.  My face was red and I could not control my emotions as I walked around the house with my hands on my head screaming "how could you do this to me again?"  Sebastian tailing me, he continually asked me to calm down and maybe have a laydown as I seemed to be stressed.  Eventually I calmed down enough to lay on the bed and Sebastian lay with me while I sobbed uncontrollably.  The ugly crying was the worst I had ever experienced in my life as I felt every part of our loss.  Sebastian handed me tissue after tissue, eventually saying "this is about Dad now isn't it?"  I nodded and sobbed harder, unable to stop.  We cried together and hugged each other, all the while Sebastian telling me that it will be alright and that Dad will always be with us.  He even said that he understood that it is hard to stop crying once you start.

How is it that this young six year old can be so strong and so life savvy in so few years? He seems to be the only human being who understands me and can comfort me and I do the same for him.  We are so inseparable now, it's almost scary.  Today he is having a day in vacation care as they were having a Science Day that he really wanted to attend.  I miss him terribly and the house seems so quiet without him. 

This last week we have started cleaning out cupboards and cubby houses, sheds and storerooms, to rid our home of all the clutter that seems to collect so very quickly.  One day I found a box that seemed to have some of Mark's things in it, the contents completely unknown to me.  Sebastian and I sat down and started to go through it.  There were trophy's for sports and items from school and university, but a small wooden box had us both intrigued.  As we opened it up, we saw a heap of medals and as I read them out, we soon realised that these were all his academic awards from High School.  He had won award after award every year of his time at high school, one year winning five medals for outstanding academic achievement.  I was blown away.  I knew he was smart, I knew he had a higher than average IQ and I know his friend from school had mentioned at his funeral, that Mark was the "smart kid that always won everything", but I guess I thought he was just exaggerating.  But here was the proof, squashed into a small wooden box and tucked away were no one would see it.  I thought I knew everything about Mark, but he never talked much about school or even much about growing up.  He never bragged or thought himself better than anyone else, even though he would have been within his rights to do so. 

I always felt there was something special about him, something extraordinary and yet he did not feel this, no matter how successful he was, so humble was he.  He never stopped learning, never stopped trying to do better, never felt regret or anger for his situation.  He always lived in hope and in the love of his family and I only hope that I continue to make him proud and continue to honour his memory in every way that I can.  I want Sebastian to grow up understanding the greatness that was his father, yet not feel pressured to fill his almighty shoes and be expected to match his academic achievements, but to follow his own heart and his dreams and occasionally take a risk, if it feels like the right thing to do.

Post Number 48 - The End of 2015!

With Christmas now officially over, I breathe a big sigh of relief.  It was tough for us both as we flipped between the happiness of being together and doing fun things and the deep sadness and loss that we felt at the same time.  Grief is so strange that way, so bitter sweet.  You can feel so happy in that moment and be quickly overcome by huge waves of sadness.  The body and the mind so confused in what to feel.

The first week of the school holidays was busy with many activities and preparations for Christmas.  We took each day generally relaxed and did not push hard to complete any tasks. "Be kind to yourself", were the words last spoken by my grief counsellor, and I did my best to do this.  Our general routines for the lead up to Christmas included buying a present for a "Wishing Tree", sending Christmas cards, baking and constructing a Gingerbread House and baking assorted biscuits as gifts for friends and the residents of Trinity Place, the retirement village that my Mum lives at.  As the days flitted away, and the weather hot and unbearable, it was becoming clear that many of these tasks would not be happening this year.  But I did not stress and simply did what I could on each day.  Other tasks began to pile up too, such as ironing, housework, answering emails and general housekeeping, but again, the voice of being kind to myself stayed strong.

Many days I struggled to even function.  My general motion sluggish and without its normal purposeful movement.  With only days to go before Christmas, I decided we would go to Ikea so I could purchase some smaller shelves for my kitchen, a long on-going renovation project I had begun six months ago, Sebastian could have a play in the "ball-pit" and we could have lunch before heading home.  After finding everything I wanted, we headed for the food section of Ikea to see if we could find a Gingerbread Kit.  I figured this would be better than nothing at all, but they had sold out.  But they did have gingerbread Xmas trees, frozen gingerbread dough and pre-pressed, cooked biscuits that just needed decorating.  We loaded up with goodies and headed home to work on our creations.  The mood good, I put on some festive music and we worked on our creations all afternoon.  That night I bagged them all up, ready for Sebastian to hand out the following day to the residents of the retirement village.

Christmas cards were also completed as was the Wishing Tree gift.  I wrote our usual summary letter, printed all the labels and recruited Sebastian to help to address, stamp and write his name on over 40 cards.  This was a task that was always shared by Mark and myself, but I was determined to complete them, although I did not have the emotional or physical strength, I pushed myself and Sebastian to ensure it was done.

I was also thrilled to hear from one of my friends who was about to leave Adelaide to move to Canberra.  She offered to take Sebastian present shopping.  It was an extremely hot day and we had attended a BBQ at one of Mark's favourite employers, so time was against us, but she insisted on taking him amongst the shopping chaos, putting her own personal needs to one side, to help us out this one last time before leaving.  She was amazed at how quickly Sebastian found the perfect gifts for Mummy.  He was confident and happy and excited about giving his Mum a gift she knew nothing about.  I had also purchased a few gifts for myself, hoping that my Mum would wrap them with Sebastian one evening when I went out.  But wrapping was not her strength, so again, one of my neighbours jumped in to teach Sebastian how to wrap presents like a professional. 

I also worked on creating a memory wall of Mark.  Eight photos of various sizes displaying his ever glowing smile and contentment in life.  I was desperate to hang these and again needed to ask for help to ensure they were lined up and looking the best that they could.  By Christmas Eve, it was all done and I was amazed that I had managed to get it all together without stress and frustration.  It was now time to create new traditions, new ways of celebrating Christmas without Mark, yet still honouring him.

Christmas Eve was usually a German family affair.  We would go to Church, have a German dinner, listen to German music, speak to family in Germany and open one present.  But I could not bear Church or anything religious.  Just listening to prayers and bible readings while at the retirement village, brought on a flood of tears.  Carols having the same effect, this was just not going to be an option for me.  So Mum decided to stay home so she could attend church and Sebastian and I enjoyed a dinner for two which still included a German sausage, a German herring salad and some fresh prawns.  After dinner, we put on our bathers and headed for the beach, armed with six red balloons, filled with helium and with two very special and very personal letters addressed to a special man who we love so dearly and who lives amongst the clouds.

We walked along our beach, the beach we had visited as a family for years, until we found an unpopulated spot.  We sat at the waters' edge and released our airmail letters.  The sky was blue with white fluffy clouds and we held each other close as we watched them rise higher and higher in the sky.  I held my breath in fear that they would not rise up into the sky, but instead burst and plummet to the ground.  But after seemingly sitting in one spot for several minutes, they rose high into the sky, until they were nothing but a spec against the white cloud.  We sobbed as we watched and then, they just disappeared into the cloud.  "Dad's got them", Sebastian said, and I nodded as I hugged him tighter than ever.

We sat at that water's edge for another hour, just talking and playing in the sand.  By the time we left, we had constructed a big lake, with European mountains and channels for the water to flow in and drain out.  It was such a special evening, full of purpose, pain, tenderness and love. 

Christmas Day was a busy one as I had invited some of our dearest friends to call in for our traditional morning Eggnog and Nibbles.  The children played and laughed together, while the adults chatted.  The afternoon filled with preparing a roast lunch for us plus Mum and her friend Herbert.  It was a big day but a great day filled with love and laughter and lovely food and drink.  By 5.30pm, the seniors were ready to go home and I was shattered.  With Sebastian in bed, I curled up on the lounge and sobbed and sobbed, overwhelmed with the amount I had achieved and emotion associated with it all.  It felt so strange.  I should be proud of what I had achieved and yet I was so overwhelmed with the sadness that I had to do it all alone.  Mark and I always did everything as a team.  We talked things through, planned, delegated and executed together.  Now I had no one to talk things through with and I realised that this was such a huge hole in my life. 

Weeks prior I had worked tirelessly on cleaning up thousands of photographs and videos, filing digital data away in their correct location.  I had not realised that things had become so out of hand and while I'm sure Mark did know this, I can only assume it overwhelmed him also and he most likely didn't want to bother me about it while I was so absorbed in my study.  I spent three solid days getting all this data into its rightful place, only to find days later, that this data had somehow disappeared.  My data had shrunk from 150gb to a mere 14gb.  This pushed me to a point of pure panic and desperation.  I put out a call for help, but little help came.  I investigated and researched and understood what had occurred, but was helpless in finding an answer to resolve it.  After four days of high stress and unable to remain calm about this situation, I finally spoke to an old friend of mine.  We talked calmly for around 20 minutes and I was reminded just how long we had been friends.  To this day, he remains the only person who understood what I was talking about and although he did not have a solution, we talked things through and he calmed me down and we discussed a possible recovery plan.  THIS is the thing I miss.  Someone who understands IT to the level that I do, and someone who can just talk things through with me.  I didn't need to have all the answers, just wanted to bounce ideas, brainstorm, talk it through.

Being a widow is lonely, more than I can even describe.  And I enjoy my own company, very much.  I don't need constant stimulation or company.  I enjoy the quiet, the time to think, the time to write, read and be creative.  But boy, do I miss just having someone to talk things through.  I don't need answers or "knights in shining armour", just someone who understands.  This hole is so big and I am doing my best to learn how to live with this emptiness as it will never be filled.  Sebastian brings me love and so much joy, but there are things that only Mark could ever bring in to my life.  Friends do what they can, but everyone has their own families and their own set of life problems that they must deal with and I must now face a new year with more self-assured strength than ever before.  The only person I can really rely on is me.  I have been given this life and I must move forward and live it the best way that I can, through the pain, the void and the emptiness.  Push through and keep doing the things that can make a difference in this world while continuing to raise Sebastian with the same passion and purpose.  Teaching him life lessons such as the gift of giving over the gift of receiving, one of this years' proudest moments.  To see how much he enjoyed giving his labour of love of decorated biscuits to the elderly residents, and to see him on Christmas morning, completely ignoring the presents from Santa, so that he could bring me his very special gift that he himself had chosen and bought, some of the proudest moments of my parenting life.

So tomorrow marks the last day of 2015 and I'm sure it will be another bitter-sweet moment as we again visit our family beach and continue our tradition of dinner at the beach, followed by playing in the sand, glow sticks and watching the 9.30pm fireworks.  This doesn't need to change and we are both looking forward to yet another day of being together, having fun and talking about Dad.

Post Number 47 - Christmas is Looming

School is out and the Summer School Holidays are officially ON! I thought I would be excited and in some respects I am looking forward to spending some quality time with Sebastian.  We have plans to go on bike rides, spend time at the beach, have a PJ day, go to the movies, do paper craft and most importantly, play Skylanders.  Yes, much has been talked about and yet a dark cloud hangs over our heads.

With this week being the last week of school, I decided to take Sebastian to see Father Christmas as we have always done in the past. My secret to long queues and avoiding craziness...go before the school holidays begin and go at the end of the day.  So I took Seb out of school a little early, stopped in to my solicitors in the city to sign some paperwork, and headed in to the Myer Santa-land in Rundle Mall.  Just as in previous years, no line-up, no chaos, no stress.

But things just felt off.  The Santa just not up to scratch.  His beard constantly moving around and things not flowing as well as they usually did.  Photos were taken of Sebastian and then I also jumped in for a shot.  In previous years our favourite photos where always the family shot, but this year, the photo of me, Sebastian and Santa just looked ridiculous, unbalanced and incomplete.  I chose the two photos of Sebastian to buy and as he travelled around the train tracks on the free train ride, most likely for the last time, I silently sobbed. 

We headed home in silence and continued our evening as normal.  But as each day passed, I became more and more sensitive, shedding tears easily.  I spent days and days working through thousands of photographs and video memories, collecting the very best of Mark, in a plan to create a movie of his life and who he was as a person. 

The following day my car was in for service, so I took the opportunity to walk over to a nearby shopping centre to do a little Christmas shopping.  As I had already bought most of Sebastian's presents, the plan was more to have a coffee and a little browse.  But things did not go to plan.  I picked up a few little items, then more and more.  I left the shop, had the coffee, checked in with the car repairer who told me there was still more than an hour to wait, so I returned to the shops and continued to purchase more items for friends and for Sebastian.  In the end, there was so much stuff, I was unable to carry it all and needed to beg the store to hold the shopping trolley full of items while I collected the car!

Once all the items where safely stowed in the boot of the car, I sobbed again.  I was so upset that I had purchased so many items, mainly for Sebastian.  Voices in my head arguing about how much I had spent, my Mum's voice saying, "How could you?" and my own voice saying "But he just lost his Dad, he deserves to be spoilt."  Never have I felt so conflicted, as Mark and I always made a point to not overspend and ensure Sebastian understood the value of money and that he would not get everything he asked for, because life just isn't like that.  But he has just lost his Dad! Am I buying him off?  Am I buying out of guilt?  I don't think so.  I'm just so bloody proud of him and how amazing he is, I can't help but want to buy him the world.  So let my mother disapprove, for this year, I don't care.  He has shown amazing courage and strength and he deserves every gift.  I'm even sure that Mark won't mind, so long as I don't make a habit of it.  This year has been the toughest yet and we all deserve a little spoiling for the sacrifices we made and the loss we continue to experience.  It's ok and we will be ok.

These past few weeks I have been very busy preparing the garden for the heat of summer that is likely to be another record breaker.  I surprised even myself at my abilities to get the garden cleaned up, trimmed and even installed several new watering systems to make watering as simple as turning on a tap.  As I completed some of the larger tasks, I took a step back to admire my work, and for a few seconds I patted myself on the back and said "Well done old girl.  You have done a marvellous job and this is going to work a treat." That was quickly followed by a wave of sadness and more sobbing tears as my gardening partner was not there to share in this glory or to share in the celebratory cup of tea or glass of wine for a job well done.  Yes, it's true, I am a very capable woman, but this doesn't lighten the grief load at all, and the closer we get to Christmas, the harder I feel it will become.

I have joined a young widow's support group and Sebastian and I have attended separate grief counselling sessions.  These things help in their own special ways.  A chance to be listened to and heard, a change to meet others who feel the same pain, a chance to just be as you are without judgement; a small step in the very long road that is the journey of grief.  One day at a time, one meditation at a time, one event at a time.

Last week I had the privilege to "spend an evening with Oprah".  She was truly amazing as she spoke non-stop for two hours and told the story of her life, her successes and her failures, her difficult times and those to celebrate.  Her words confirmed that I was living my best life and I felt proud in myself and how far I have come as a person in my journey of self-discovery.  It wasn't until the very end when she said, "the things in life that bring us down, the times of sadness, of deep loss, of health challenges and pain. It is these things that make us stronger and stronger and stronger and stronger..."  By the fourth "stronger" I was sobbing like a baby.  I understood completely and I sobbed for her, for me, for Sebastian and for everyone who understands true pain and true loss and yes, it does make us stronger and perhaps more determined to go on and make our lives mean something.

Post Number 46 - Ashes to Ashes

Weeks are flying by and Sebastian and I are "getting on with things" and to our surprise, we are coping reasonably well.  Of course we butt heads on occasion and have our moments when we "just need a hug for no reason", but we are there for each other and that is all that seems to matter.

I studied hard and completed my final exam for the year and can now breathe a sigh of relief, relax and enjoy myself until classes start again next March.  As it turned out, many people in Mark's home town of Mt Gambier had not heard of his passing or where not able to attend the funeral and this pained the family who had to continually explain that Mark had left us.

Although we had never discussed it, I always knew that Mark would want to be buried in Mt Gambier near his beloved Mum, so arrangements were made to make this happen, along with a "wake" for the family and friends in Mt Gambier to allow them to rally around and share their grief and their support for the Thompson family.  With my exams over, my first port of call was to register the "old girl" and get her ready for a road-trip.  I drove her around town for a few days to get the feel of her and make sure she was ready for the drive to the South East.  From the minute I started driving her around, I started to feel Mark's presence again.  I felt oddly calm when driving her, something I never usually felt as she can be quite awkward to handle and get in and out of.

Wednesday morning Sebastian and I loaded up the car, finished watering the garden and headed south.  Poor Sebastian, squashed into the back, the new racing seats looking smart, but totally impractical for anyone in the backseat.  But he assured me that he would be fine and off we went.

We stopped several times to allow our legs to unfold and uncramp, with our final destination being Naracoorte.  I wanted this experience to be a little mini holiday, a chance for us to have a bit of fun together and not have it just about burying his father's ashes.  Mark and I had talked about showing Sebastian the caves many times, but never actually got around to it, so now seemed the perfect time.  I felt Mark's presence the entire time, especially when driving his car.  The feeling was so strong, that at times my emotion became uncontrollable.  I was neither sad nor happy, but feeling his warmth was just a strong reminder of what I was missing.

We checked in to the caravan park and explored all there was to see and do including the large swimming lake, bouncing pillow, table tennis and video games.  The following day we explored caves, including those inhabited by an endangered species of bats.  Our day full of fun and adventure, our evening full of hugs and a restful sleep.




On Friday we drove on to Mt Gambier and after a much needed coffee, we met the family to bury Mark's ashes, right next to his Mum.  Nothing much was said and we all placed a spadeful of dirt into the hole and paid our last respects.  Hours later we all met again at the wake, where people poured in to show their support and love for the Thompson family and also for me.  I found this experience most unexpected and I spoke with many aunties, uncles and cousins.  Some shared their own stories of grief and current difficult times and my heart went out to those doing it tough and in carer roles.  I wanted to stay and chat to everyone in the room, but there were just too many people to cover in three hours.  Sebastian also seemed to have a good time, checking in with me every now and again, but most of his time was spent meeting relatives and playing with another same aged child who arrived after school.

Exhausted after a big three days, we headed back to the hotel for a swim in the "indoor heated pool" which turned out to be not-so-heated.  But we made the most of it and enjoyed it just the same.  Too tired to go out for dinner, we decided to eat any last bits of snack food we had brought along, as well as a few items from the mini-bar, while sitting in bed together watching a movie.  Everything had gone so perfectly and I couldn't be more content at that moment.  Sebastian and I just love each other's company so very much and we have a mutual respect for each other, similar to the respect Mark and I had for each other.  He is my "Mini-Mark" and my whole world and I know Mark would be approving of everything I am doing.  Sebastian often comes home from school telling me about all the gifts Daddy gave him that day.  One day recently, Daddy gave him three butterflies, four feathers and two rainbow lorikeets! So convinced is he, that every butterfly has come from Dad, he has me believing it too! 

Before we left to head to the South East, I was having problems with our aquaponics system.  It's a simple filtration system of water from our fish pond pumping up into a tray full of plants which then returns the cleaned water back into the fishpond.  I was having all manner of difficulties getting the water to drain back into the pond, nearly losing the fish several times through lack of water in the pond.  During my process of trying to sort this problem out, a white butterfly continually fluttered around, almost watching what I was doing.  I became so frustrated, I looked at this butterfly and said "well don't just flutter around, give me some idea what to do here".  A moment later, I looked up and it was gone - "maybe my tone a little too harsh", I thought.

I don't think it matters what we believe, if it helps us get through the day and it's not hurting anyone, then why not.  We continue to be grateful every day and in general, keep a happy and contented lifestyle, but Christmas is just around the corner, and this is not a time that I am looking forward to.  It's a time of year I have always struggled with.  The constant message of "family" pains me to the core.  With my own family on the other side of the world, I have always felt emotional and alone.  It's not a feeling I have ever been able to shake and this year is deemed to be harder than ever.  But I plan to fill my house with as many friends, family and neighbours as I can possibly muster and hopefully this will get me through another difficult time.

Post Number 45 - Life is full of Blessings

There is no doubt that grief is an "ugly beast" and can easily consume you and make you believe life is not worth living.  Not a day goes past where I don't shed a tear, but the feeling deep inside myself is different these days.

I returned to my studies, sat for a microbiology exam and completed my pharmacology lectures.  I never missed a lecture or missed handing in an assignment.  Luckily, with the load of only two subjects, it was manageable.  Routine and study keep me going, along with Sebastian's happy and loving arms.  Then something profound happened.  I started thinking about all the gifts that Mark had brought into my life.  Not material gifts, but those life-changing things that cannot be purchased from a store.

I did everything I could to save his life and I have no regrets about anything I did, as I honoured his wishes completely.  I owed him at least that, as he saved my life many years ago.

In 2005 I resigned as director of the small IT business we had both co-established.  I had been living a high stress lifestyle for many years, I was very overweight and I had abused my body continuously with alcohol, stress, lack of sleep and cigarettes.  I had very little self-worth and very little self-control.  Mark and I had worked together since 1998, first at Bridgestone and later in the small business, Computer Image.  We had become very close friends, especially through the years of building the small business and we loved working together and we experienced a mutual respect for each other.  I respected him for his "genius-ness" and he respected me for my abilities as a manager and mentor.  We were polar opposites in many ways.  He was shy and quiet, book smart and a geek, yet witty and kind.  I was firm but fair, street smart, convincing and persuasive, misunderstood but generally "got my way"!  Together, in the world of computers, we were a force to be reckoned with and we made the "impossible" happen all the time.  We did "miracles" too, but they just took a little longer!

Soon after I left the business, Mark and I decided to buy a house together.  I wanted an art studio and he wanted to purchase his first bit of real estate.  By combining our resources, we were able to purchase a beautiful home, large enough for the two of us to live independently.  Our large windows displayed beautiful views and the huge gumtrees filled with all kinds of bird life, gave the feel of the country.  We were both so happy we could burst. 

Together we cooked, laughed and started an exercise routine.  When I would say, "I'm too tired to cook", he would answer with, "I'll give you a hand".  Past relationships would have answered with, "Let's get takeaway" which was one of the main reasons for my excessive weight gain.  Whenever I didn't feel like exercising or doing yoga, he would gently encourage me to get off the couch.  Together, we lost weight and we started enjoying life to the fullest with weekend hiking and a friendly hit of tennis.  The house needed much TLC and together we fixed and painted, replaced and upgraded our little piece of paradise, always admiring our work and the skills we acquired through the DIY process. 

It wasn't long before we became "friends with benefits" and Mark decided to resign from his stable income job, to seek a career in his love of computer programming.  He studied hard and passed the Microsoft exams to gain his certification.  It was a true "leap of faith" and I felt so proud of his drive to do this, especially now that he had a mortgage to pay.

I dabbled in various jobs and lines of work, but my real desire was to have a child.  All my adult life I had never wanted a child of my own and I was never the one drooling over cute little babies.  I was now in my 40s and I couldn't believe this obsessive maternal need.  Mark supported me in every way and eventually we used IVF to conceive.  It took only two attempts, a long nine months wait and then our bundle of joy arrived.  I knew he would be special and he has proven that over and over. 

Yes, Mark gave me many gifts.  He showed me what true love really feels like, he respected and loved me with every inch of himself.  He helped me to believe in myself and live with a cause.  Through him I realised that I am "worth it" and I have purpose and how I treat my body matters. Together we learnt meditation and grew spiritually through reading books and sharing our inner most thoughts and feelings.  Because of him, I am the strong and sometime wise person I am today.  I respect and care for myself and I no longer judge myself by the words of others.  I meditate when I need to, give gratitude every day for blessings of the day and teach Sebastian to do the same.  I have so much to be thankful for and I have chosen to live in this state of gratitude rather than a state of self-pity.  Some days are more challenging than others, but when I really take a good hard look at my life, I realise just how very blessed I am.

Today I listened to a song that I love so very much and it reminds me of Mark.  If I may be so bold to borrow the words from the stage musical production of "Wicked", "Because I knew You (Mark), I have been changed for good".  It couldn't explain better how I feel about this wonderful man and how he has changed me for the better.

I've heard it said
That people come into our lives, for a reason
Bringing something we must learn
And we are led
To those who help us most to grow
If we let them
And we help them in return
Well.. I don't know if I believe that's true
But I know I'm who I am today
Because I knew you...

Like a comet pulled from orbit
As it passes a sun
Like a stream that meets a boulder
Halfway through the wood
Who can say if I've been changed for the better?
But, because I knew you
I have been changed for good...

It well may be
That we will never meet again
In this lifetime
So let me say before we part
So much of me
Is made of what I learned from you
You'll be with me
Like a handprint on my heart
And now whatever way our stories end
I know you have re-written mine
By being my friend

Like a ship blown from its mooring
By a wind off the sea
Like a seed dropped by a skybird
In a distant wood
Who can say if I've been changed for the better?

I do believe I have been changed for the better
Because I knew you
I have been changed....for good.

Post Number 44 - Two Weeks On

It's only been two weeks, yet the funeral seems like it was months ago.  With still the second week of the school holidays to go, Sebastian and I made up for much lost time and much needed time together.  The last six weeks had taken a toll on us both and we were both so relieved we could just be together without any other commitments. 

 
We spent as much time as we could together, cooking, pitching a tent on the back lawn and camping out, playing Sky Landers, playing mini-golf, going to the beach and lots and lots of hugging.  Sebastian also slept in my bed, as did Else and we all felt safe and content together.  It was such a novelty, but soon I noticed that I just didn't feel any joy or passion in anything we did.  I didn't care if I got a hole in one or if my food tasted ok.  Nothing really mattered anymore- I was just keeping busy and trying to make life as fun and enjoyable as I could for Sebastian.  Life was never going to be the same for us again, no matter how much I filled it with activities.

Soon it was Monday again and time for Sebastian to go back to school.  I was a little sad he would be leaving me, yet I desperately needed to get back on top of my studies, so I was happy to get that opportunity, especially with assignments due and exams just around the corner. Sebastian also had mixed emotions.  He wanted desperately to see his school friends, in particular his best friend, a girl two years older than him who had been his friend since the beginning of the year.  He had so very much to tell her, he explained to me, but he was also concerned about crying in front of the other children.

Once at school I spoke to his teacher and to my surprise, I was unable to hold back emotion.  This felt rather uncomfortable because Sebastian and I had not really shed huge amounts of tears since Mark had passed, even though we had talked about him a lot and felt the sadness, we never really broke down.  I pulled myself together, hugged Sebastian and headed for the school office to advise them of what had happened.  I spoke with administration staff without a problem, but when the school principal took me into his office I lost the plot again.  We talked about possible assistance for Sebastian and ways to help him to get through the rest of the year.

That afternoon I picked Sebastian up from school and he seemed fine, that was until he got into the car.  He sobbed and sobbed, hardly able to breathe.  This was breaking my heart as I tried to work out what had gone wrong.  I quickly drove him home and on the way he managed to tell me that his best friend had gone off to play with other girls at both recess and lunch and he never had an opportunity to talk with her and it seemed she didn't want to talk with him.  His world had just collapsed.  If losing his father wasn't enough, now he lost the one friend he felt he could really confide in.

The next day I spoke with a few support people at the school and they immediately jumped into action.  By the time the final school bell rang, Sebastian had his best friend's ear again and a new "circle of friends" group had been established to provide support and friendship for Sebastian.  He glowed when I picked him up and I was relieved to know that things had turned around for him when he was in such a fragile state.

Meanwhile I have been getting on with my studies, attending class and working on assignments and making important phone calls to figure out my next move in sorting out all of Mark's affairs and how we were going to move forward financially.  Keeping busy certainly helps, and when things are going well and falling in to place, I feel ok.  But as soon as things don't go well, I very easily lose control of my emotions and feel the aching loss.  I hate feeling it so very much because the pain is unbearable. I don't feel Mark's presence anymore and it still seems too unreal to be true.  Nothing makes sense anymore.  Even though I was present for his last breath, I saw him lying in his coffin and I delivered his eulogy, it still feels like a bad dream.  Even making myself write this blog has been extremely difficult.  Getting out of bed these days is harder than ever.  I thought it was hard before, but now it seems impossible.  If it were not for my Sebastian, I would stay there, without a doubt.

So I guess this is what they call "grief" and I can tell you, it sucks.  There is such an emptiness, a void, the uncertainty of the future.  Will I have to sell and move?  Can I maintain such a big property? Will I need to get a job and would anyone hire me anyway?  Do I even care about my studies anymore? Will I get an opportunity to take Seb on a road-trip and is that even the right thing to do so close to Christmas? How will I get around the bank freezing all our accounts when they find out he has passed? I just don't know and quite frankly, not even sure I care. 

My body feels weak and my spirit matches that weakness.  I have been told countless times that I am a strong woman and maybe that is what gets me through the day.  But when I realise that I will never be able to discuss my thoughts, my feelings, my passions with Mark ever again, my world crumbles and I am a mess. I wish I could still feel him, feel his guidance, feel his love and admiration, but I don't and that is the worst feeling.  So I continue to take one day at a time and try to fill my diary with catch-ups with friends and busy up my life as much as I can.  I have arranged for grief counselling for us both in the hope that we both find some peace and a way to release the pain we both feel, but I don't think anything will ever fill the void or ease the pain.  I can only hope that one day, I feel my passion return and give me and our life purpose again.

Post Number 43 - A Perfect Tribute to a Beautiful Man

Today I officially said goodbye to the love of my life.  After only two days of preparation, I'm still smiling at how everything just fell in to place. The thought of waiting until next Tuesday due to a public holiday was agonising for me and as I know that I work at my best when under pressure, I felt compelled to have his special day sooner rather than later.  Strangely though, I never felt stressed or overwhelmed or unsure if I could pull it off.

On Wednesday morning I asked Sebastian to give me a cuddle in bed.  He moaned and complained as he was on a mission to review his latest Skylander poster and I had stopped him from doing this.  But I had important news that I had to tell him and I couldn't think of a better place than to cuddle up in bed with a box of tissues to tell him his father had passed away.  To my surprise, or maybe I wasn't that surprised, he just fell silent. A few tears fell, but not the outpouring that I was expecting.  We cuddled for a while and I explained that I would be really busy for the next few days getting everything ready for the funeral, but that we would be able to have some quality time very soon.

After breakfast I decided we could both really use a walk in the fresh air and warming sunshine.  We delivered the previous night's blog post to the neighbours and friends who don't have computers, walked past Seb's old Kindy and on to our favourite café for a coffee and to meet my Mum.  The walk was just what we both needed-a chance to slow down and talk.  Sebastian asked many intelligent questions like "will Daddy go in a hole in the ground" and "will I be able to see him one last time" and "will we still be able to send him rainbows with our love".  It was truly a beautiful morning and Sebastian displayed an incredible maturity and I could see that I had prepared him well for this moment.

Once home, Sebastian went to the neighbours to play with his adopted "Big Brothers" while I started making phone calls.  Before long I had many things on the go and while I was a little nervous about what I still had to put together, I felt ok.  Sebastian came home and played his new Skylanders Trap Team game which I had been struggling to get running properly.  But with the help of his big brothers, he was off and racing, trapping villains and having new adventures, while I talked with the funeral director and worked through what still needed to be done.  That evening as Sebastian slept soundly in my bed, I was also visited by another friend who helped me write the main eulogy.  Ironic when I usually have no difficulty writing, but I just sat gazing at a white screen, not knowing where to start.  I needed this eulogy to be about Mark and who he was as a person and not about me and how I was feeling.

The following day flowed just as well.  My friend took Sebastian to the Blackwood Library to see a magic show and register Mark's car for a day, while I continued work on eulogies, photos and organising to have Mark's car cleaned, polished, and most importantly, reconnected and started again after sitting idle since February.  But I had another goal that I felt I needed to do.  It seemed a little selfish, but the thought of standing in front of a hundred people, looking the way I did, brought me to tears.  I had not seen a hairdresser since February and my hair was long, had no style, lifeless and very very grey.  I just couldn't face anyone looking like I did and so another friend organised an appointment for me to help me to look my best-not just to give me the confidence, but so I could look good for Mark.

All morning I felt calm and warm.  Driving to an unfamiliar place to have the hair appointment, I still felt unusually calm and even though I left home late, I arrived ten minutes early.  The hairdresser cut off enough hair to make a wig and then applied the colour.  While waiting for the colour to set, I sat wondering who I could ask to stand with me to read my eulogy.  While I had many friends who have been wonderful angels, I wasn't sure any of them would be able to stand up there with me and not fall apart.  I only needed to see one person cry and the floodgates would open for me too.  As I looked at my phone, the contact tiles flipped over and the face of an old friend appeared.  "Of course" I said aloud and I walked outside into a sterile outdoor courtyard, smaller than my kitchen.  It was paved around the outside with the smallest patch of grass I had ever seen and a big high fence.  There were no trees in sight anywhere, not even at the neighbours, only a few screening plants to high the ugly fence. 

I rang my friend and asked if she felt she could be my rock, hold my hand and give me strength.  "Of course I can do that", she replied and I took a deep breath of relief to know that she would once again help me, just as she had done weeks before at the rehab meeting at the hospital.  After our discussion about the funeral, she began telling me a story, but I had to cut her off quite abruptly, as I couldn't believe what was happening in front of me.  I white feather floated down, right in front of me and seemingly from nowhere.  I asked the hairdresser if she regularly found feathers in her yard and she replied, "no? never, what do you mean?"  Tears flooded my eyes and my chest grew warm again.  I cried happy tears in the knowledge that my wonderful man had his angel wings and he was letting me know he was there, and he clearly approved of my plans.

My need to look decent took a massive chunk out of the day and once on my way home, I realised I was fast running out of time to get the photos and music together in time.  I also needed to get Sebastian a new T-Shirt to match his shirt so I raced in to Target.  Before getting out of the car however, I said to Mark, "well, I don't know what abilities you have as an Angel, but I really need a nice t-shirt for Seb, but I really don't have the time to get it, hope you can help me out."  I ran through the shopping centre and straight to the boys wear section and found a nice plain dark blue t-shirt straight away and while this was exactly what I was looking for, I thought I would just have a quick look to see if there was anything else that would be appropriate.  I didn't need to look far and there it was.  A dark grey t-shirt that said in big bold letters "My Dad Rocks"!

Back home and I was really under the pump.  I contacted the RAA while driving back from the hairdressers and the car groomer was also due to arrive any minute as well as Mark's family.  It all happened at once as well as receiving a phone call from the funeral director to ask if I was happy with what he had written.  I did have some concerns with some of the wording he used and while I was trying to explain why I needed him to change them, he was explaining why he needed to leave them in and at the same time I am directing the RAA to the shed to grab the battery and point the car groomer to the nearest tap and power point.  Talk about multitasking on steroids!!

By now I had about an hour to finish selecting just 40 photographs and choosing the right music to make the presentation complete.  I still don't really know how we did it, but I know it was a team effort and somehow it all got done and I delivered the USB stick just in time.

That evening, the house fell silent and I made the finishing touches to the eulogy, but I still couldn't read it without tears, but there was nothing more I could do now, time to rest and get as much sleep as I could, knowing that tomorrow was an important day and that I needed sleep if I was going to do well.

So today was the big day and while Sebastian tossed and turned throughout the night, we seemed to get a reasonable sleep.  We showered, had breakfast and made preparations to leave the house to get coffee and a few essential groceries.  Sebastian had a cooking class to attend and as he was so keen to go, I drove him there and organised for yet another friend to pick him up and bring him to the funeral.  Once home again, I packed away my groceries and paced up and down, not knowing what to do with myself.  Texting my neighbour, she suggested I do a meditation, something I had avoided for many many months.  It was the perfect suggestion and I headed out to Mark's man cave, put on a nature sound CD, sat down and closed my eyes.  The tears came almost immediately, but they were gentle tears as I felt his presence yet again.  "Stay with me a while" I asked him.  "Give me strength today".  It was truly a wonderful meditation and I then picked up the eulogy and read it out loud, without a stumble or a tear.  I took a deep breath and smiled in the knowledge that I could it.  I dressed, gathered all my things and started up the "red rocket" or the "old girl" as I affectionately call her.  I was early, but I didn't care.  I stopped for some fresh petrol and drove her to the funeral. She coughed and spluttered when I put my foot down, but otherwise, she travelled well. 

Before long, people started filling the auditorium and I took Sebastian in so he could see his Dad one last time.  My Mum was horrified at the thought, but it was his decision and it was what he wanted to do.  We took in special things and placed them in the coffin, took a moment to hug and shed a tear and then we were ready to start.  The room filled, the music played and the service began.  The first eulogy presented by a friend of Marks of 25 years.  He shared memories of younger years which warmed my heart.  Then it was my turn and with my friend by my side, I delivered my speech almost perfectly, never looking at the sea of people, in case I caught the sight of someone crying.  Then others stood up and when I heard the neighbours' children speak their own words of how many wonderful memories they had of Mark when they were younger and how much they would miss him, my heart just overflowed.  Then another fun story of day at the racetrack and some fun was had with the car and some dirt, a story I had never been told, a little secret Mark may have kept perhaps.  But it made me smile so much my face hurt as I pictured him turning the wheel, pulling up the handbrake and planting his foot on the accelerator.  I never felt he did that enough, but maybe he did, and I just didn't know about it!

More stories and laughs and beautiful tributes to a man truly loved by all.  It was perfect in every way and I felt so proud and so happy that I could do this one final thing for him.  I know he was happy.  I glowed as I hugged and talked to as many people as I could, even people I did not know and even people I had previously taken a dislike to.  But when stories were shared about the early days in Uni, stories I had never heard and stories of such respect and awe of Mark's abilities, I soon understood more about these friendships and I know Mark was happy that I had made a menze.

While I know there was much sadness and tears today, my memory is of all the great stories shared today and the love and respect that everyone has for Mark.  I can't stop smiling because I was the one he chose to marry.  I was the one he waited for.  I was the one who had the privilege of creating a beautiful child with him.  I am such a better person for having him in my life and while I will miss him every single day, he hasn't left me yet.  He is still here with me, and for that reason, I don't feel the loss.  Every day I look at Sebastian and I see him and I feel him.  Sebastian and I have cried a river and I'm sure we will cry some more, but at last we can breathe.  The up and down rollercoaster of emotions is over.  The rushing backwards and forwards to the hospital and home and school is over.  The cutting myself into two people and trying to be there for them both is over.  It's just me and Sebastian now, with Mark's spirit guiding us every step of the way.  I can't be sad, I have everything to be happy and grateful for.  With the support and love of so many people, how can we be anything but ok?