Post Number 54 - Another Date for Remembrance

While just getting over one anniversary, another fast approaches.  Life has been moving along with incredible speed and my first semester at College came to an end before I knew it.  Assignments completed, in-class exams studied for and completed but still no time to breathe.  I still have one almighty exam to go and this subject has tormented me from day one.  I work so hard in trying to understand the content, in particular the infinite detail that we are supposed to understand, learn and remember.  With two assessments completed and only just passing, I need to pass this exam to ensure I am not forced to repeat the entire subject again.  So I keep my head down and focus and with only one week to go before the exam, the content is finally starting to make sense, but I am still a long way from remembering anything.

This week has been particularly difficult to stay on track.  Our old gas heater finally decided to give up and would no longer stay lit.  Then the drains started to block up.  Then a few nights ago, while I lay on the lounge just before heading to bed, I little mouse popped its head out of my bedroom, then ran back in.  I was horrified and I actually screamed like a little girl!  Repeatedly this mouse popped out before finally plucking up the courage to run across the lounge room floor, right in front of me.  By now my heart was thumping out of my chest as I sat up hugging my knees.  Mark and I had lived in this house for nearly 9 years and never had we a rodent in the house.  Sure there were many out in the garden and shed and we have caught and disposed of them in the past, but never in the house.  I was so totally freaked out, I couldn't move.

You might be laughing by now, thinking what is wrong with this strong and courageous woman?  Well it all dates back to a time in my 20’s.  I married young and was heavily involved in a Dog Obedience Club with my German shepherd.  We participated in competition obedience and every year there was a two-day competition at Port Pirie that everyone always looked forward to attending.  It was a time to all come together as a club, camp, sit around the fire, have a few drinks and have a good time as well as competing for two days.  So we excitedly signed up to attend.

As we travelled closer to our destination that weekend, the road seemed stained with something, but we couldn't work out what it was.  The closer we got, the more pronounced these markings on the road were.  Eventually we worked out, they were dead mice that had been run over.  "How strange", we thought. 

We arrived at the caravan park and setup our tent, cooked some dinner and set-up the camp fire.  As the sun started going down, we noticed the odd field mouse, but nothing to be concerned about.  We were in a country town, so that wasn't unexpected.  But the darker it became, the more alive the ground seemed to become.  Settled around the campfire enjoying the company, no one really noticed what was unfolding around us.  A trip to the toilets with torches soon showed a frenzy of mice everywhere you looked.

Everyone retired early due to the early start the next day and we zipped up our tent tightly, dog settled in the car, and zipped up our sleeping bags and went to sleep, foolishly thinking we were safe from the chaos outside.  Around 3am I awoke feeling something brushing up against my leg and my face.  I sat up and under moonlight I saw something running around the tent.  My torchlight confirmed, mice had chewed a hole in the tent and there were several now running around like crazy with no real intent or destination.  I watched my then husband try to get the mice out of the tent to no avail, so we spent the rest of the night in the safety of the car. 

It was such a long time ago and yet I remember every detail of that night, including the feeling against my skin.  It was a horrible experience that has obviously stamped a scare in me, as I had never feared mice before that weekend.

What I have discovered with grief, is how magnified things become.  Things that would ordinarily not cause a blink of an eyelid, now suddenly paralyse you.  A problem that you would ordinarily discuss with your partner is now your soul responsibility to sort out.  Do I try to get the old heater fixed or do I install the new heater I always wanted to?  If I spend this money, will I have enough for future problems or needs?  Do I risk baiting the mouse in case the dog finds the bait or eats the baited mouse?  What about the kitchen renovation that is still not finished? 

One of the many things the Grief Support Group has shown me is unconditional support without judgement and that alone is just one of the reasons I look forward to attending each month.  I hear countless grief stories as well as real life turmoil and never a judgemental word is spoken, only support, understanding and a safety to be as you are and be accepted for that.  Personally, I am as guilty as anyone for quick judgements.  All the time I look at what people put in their mouths or their shopping trolleys and I want to judge them for it.  But what do I know about that person?  What has brought them to this point in life?  Is it just plain ignorance or has there been other factors that influence their choices and their behaviours? 

We all deserve to be loved and accepted for who we are and I have only ever truly felt that from one person and he is no longer walking this earth.  I now know his spirit is with us and I have confirmation of this, but it is this feeling of unconditional love and contentment that I miss so much and yet feel so deeply when I spend time with others who have walked a similar path to mine.

Yesterday was Mark's Birthday.  He would have turned 39.  A year ago I managed to arrange a Birthday Party for him and it was a most joyous and momentous occasion.  But that was then and this is now.  I had dreams of making pasta with Sebastian and celebrating the event with one of our signature dishes, but the thought of even touching the pasta machine breaks me down.  Mark always lovingly made the pasta as I just didn't have the patience for it.  I would make the sauce and together we would make the most amazing meal filled with love.  But homemade pasta has not been in our kitchen for over a year now and I am still not ready to do that.  So Sebastian and I went to Windy Point Café for dinner instead.  It was a place we had visited many times for special occasions including Valentine’s Day and Father’s Day and I had always wanted to show Sebastian the night time view. 

But it was a cold, windy and rainy night and neither of us wanted to go out.  Sebastian complained and said he just wanted to cuddle up on the couch and watch a movie.  I agreed wholeheartedly, but the booking was made and no other arrangements had been made for dinner, so we were committed.  We had a nice evening but it was so loud we could hardly hear each other speak.  The food was nice, but we ended up eating so much, we both felt uncomfortable.  I felt even more uncomfortable when I got the bill and wondered "was this really worth it?" Once home, we quickly tore off our fancy clothes and jumped into our PJ's.  It was already past Seb's bedtime, but neither of us cared.  We both just wanted to cuddle on the couch and watch something on TV.  And it was at that moment, that I was truly happy.  I could feel Mark with us and all was right with the world.  That 30 minutes of love and joy was the highlight of my day.

The reality is, Seb, Mum and I are alone together most of the time and we try to do things together when we can.  There are days were Mum and I hardly see each other, as I am in my office studying and she is in her room or in the kitchen.  But for now, that is how it will have to be, until this exam is over.  Tonight Seb and I made nachos and watched a movie, curled up together on the couch.  Sebastian cried when he went to bed.  He cried for the loss of his Dad and for the happiness and love that he feels for me.  It's true, when I think of how much I love my son, it brings me to tears too, for he is my life now, my connection to Mark and my true joy.

Post Number 53 - Reunited

So it's been nearly a month since my last post and life has continued to move forward and as the school holidays draw to a close, there is time for a reflection on how far we have all come in the last month.

Mum has settled in well and her shingles are finally starting to heal.  It has been a long road of healing for her, but she is finally starting to feel better.  Her diet is much improved, although still not perfect, but her weight is down and her recent blood test show some improvements.

Having her living with us seems very normal, like it has always been that way, which is very strange indeed.  And yes, she does drive me crazy at times, but I am so very grateful to have her with us.  Somehow having three people in the house makes things just seem like they always have been.

I miss Mark in many ways, mostly in having him to talk to and that sense of warmth, comfort and safety.  But I am more at peace and finally feel like I can allow myself some happiness, especially when I spend time with Sebastian.

At the start of the school holidays, we flew to Mt Gambier to visit family and to be reunited with Mark's car which had been safely stored and lovingly worked on by his brother since we drove it there last year.  But it was time for her to come home and she was ready for a big drive on the open highway and so was I.

It was the weekend of our wedding anniversary; seven years.  Many of my new friends from my grief support group had talked about anniversaries and how they celebrated them.  I have never been big on celebrating anniversaries and now was no exception.  I had no idea what I wanted to do, if anything at all.  But when I received a call from family in Mt Gambier, asking us to come for this weekend, it seemed that the decision had already been made for me.  It was a chance for me to spend one-on-one time with the old girl, while family looked after Sebastian.  But where would I go and what would I do? I had no idea?

We flew over after school on Friday night, picked up the car and drove to our hotel, or should I say flew to the hotel!  As soon as I drove out of my brother-in-law's driveway, the car was off!  I couldn't believe the difference in her performance as I flew up the highway just before entering the township of Mt Gambier.  I had adrenaline pumping through my veins as the back of the car spun out, the power under my feet almost intoxicating.  At speeds of 80kms, it felt like she was idling!

The following morning we ate breakfast at a cafe in town and still I didn't know where I was going to take the car.  As I sipped my coffee, I looked at the maps on my phone and then it hit me so hard I nearly fell off my chair.  BEACHPORT dummy!  Of course.  The place Mark and I had met up many many years ago, for a New Year's Eve weekend.  Mark had spent Christmas with his family and we had been invited to stay the weekend at a friend's shack.  We had some very special times that weekend and our relationship changed significantly from just friends and work colleagues to something much more special and there were many firsts and many special moments that I will never forget.

I dropped Sebastian off and away I flew, up the highway to Beachport, less than an hour's drive away.  Once there, I decided to drive along the tourist drive until I reached a lighthouse that overlooked the harbour.  It was a beautiful site, the lighthouse on the hill, the rugged ocean, the beautiful boats and the fresh sea air.  Then I spotted a sign, "Lighthouse Walk".  Sounded great to me, so I grabbed my good camera, locked my valuables up in the boot and headed off, armed with just my camera and the car keys.

The walk took me to the top of the hill, but then I continued to follow a track and then another, up a sandhilll and down another, until I reached the most amazing deserted coastline.  I found a place to sit, took some photos and took a deep breath.  I closed my eyes and breathed it in...breathed him in...breathed the Universe in.  Gentle tears flowed as I felt the warmth of the sun on my back and the chill of the breeze on my cheek.  It felt like his warm hugs and his wet kisses and it felt like home. 



I spent an hour sitting on the sand, just being and it was glorious.  I went for a short walk along the beach, picking up some lovely shells and special mementos before heading back in the direction of the car.  I started up the first sandhill..."Now was it this way or that way?  Hmm..sure it was this way.  Man this sandhill is steeper than I remember it!"  I struggled up the hill, protecting my camera and my precious shells.  I had no pocket, no water, and no phone!  Finally at the top, I realised I had indeed walked up the wrong hill, but I could easily get across and was soon reunited with the "old girl" again. 

By then it was past one o'clock, so I headed for the township for some lunch.  I had to have "Salt & Pepper Squid".  No idea why as it is not something I would usually order, but it was one of Mark's favourites.  It wasn't that I didn't like this dish, only that usually the squid would be tough and chewy and generally not pleasant to eat.  But still, for some reason, I had to order it.

I sat staring out the window of the country pub, looking out across the jetty, the old girl in the distance, sipping a glass of white wine.  My meal arrived and it looked like a very typical pub meal...until I took a bite of the squid.  I couldn't believe it.  It just melted in my mouth.  It was heavenly and I enjoyed every mouthful.

After lunch I went for a walk around the small town and visited the few gift shops, walking out empty handed each time, until the last shop.  They had a large array of jewellery, not expensive, but very nice and they made most of it in the shop.  I searched and searched for something that would mark our anniversary.  Finally, after nearly an hour in the shop, the shop owner desperately trying to find something suitable, I found a charm in the shape of a heart with an angel in the middle.  Perfect!  The shop owner found a second and made them into ear-rings for me.  I then found a masculine bracelet for Sebastian and added a charm that said "love". 

Happy with my new purchases, I bought an ice-cream and sat on a bench near the car and looked over the jetty.  By now the skies had turned grey, the wind grown stronger and the chill in the air started to bite my cheeks.  But I didn't care, as that is what we would have done together, no matter the weather.  By now it was nearly four o'clock and I couldn't believe I had been away so long.  I jumped back into the car and started her up.  She vibrated and gurgled as she idled in the carpark, ready to go. But I was not yet ready, as I felt I had one last thing to do before I could head back.  I grabbed my pack of music CD's and pulled out Barbara Streisand's Duet CDs and put on the track that was our song..."I finally found someone".  I had not listened to this music for a very long time, but it broke me down instantly.  The music blaring, I screamed and sobbed from the pit of my stomach and I let it all out.  I sobbed from the start to the finish of the song, then pulled myself together, reversed out of the carpark and hit the accelerator.  Once out of the town I floored it while I continued to listen to the other songs on the CD.  I sang, I cried, I got angry, I got sad, but by the time I was back in Mt Gambier, it was all out.  I headed back to the hotel and laydown for a short while before meeting up with the family for dinner and while I was still red in the face and in the eyes, I was ready to see everyone and enjoy their company over a meal.

Two days later and we were on our way home.  The drive seemed effortless, almost as if I wasn't even driving.  I can't explain it, but I truly felt like Mark had slipped into my body and driven us home.  We stopped at Kingston and had a lovely relaxed lunch and a game of draughts and Sebastian then settled down for a much needed sleep after many late nights.


We had spent the night before with family at my brother-in-law's house, as he lit up his summer garden rubbish heap.  Sebastian was delighted at the thought of a bomb fire and as a family we stood around this huge blaze, being singed by the flames from the front and frost bitten by the cold in the back, while we shared stories about Mark.  It was simply wonderful, heart-warming and such fun.  Sebastian excitedly ran around the fire, poking at it, setting sticks on fire and whizzing them around, just as kids love to do.  He had the time of his life.

With a full belly, sleep came easy to him and I settled in for the drive home along the coast road with plans to stop at the next major town.  But as I approached the town, I looked back and Sebastian was still asleep, so I continued on and stopped around an hour from our final destination.  We stretched our legs, played in the playground and made some phone calls before hitting the road for the final easy leg.  Two lanes of highway, down through the Adelaide Hills and home.  I still can't get over how easy the drive was as I had travelled it many times before and always found it tiring.  Maybe it was the adrenaline, maybe it was something else, I don't know, but I do know it was a special weekend in so many ways and the best weekend we have had in a very long time and for that, I am very grateful and very humbled.

Post Number 52 - Keep on Moving

So my last post wasn't one of my finer moments, but hey, it is what it is, right?  Emotions run high and low all the time-that's life-that's grief, always ready to grab you when you least expect it or least need it.  I'm pleased to say that I am not at rock bottom at the moment and have a few successes to focus my mind on.

I have finally moved forward with financial decisions and I now know that I cannot sell this house no matter how much upkeep it takes.  When Mark was here, I was always wanting to go out, go away on holidays or short trips, but now, I just want to be home.  I feel at peace here, even when I study, I look out the window into the garden and I see the butterflies fluttering around the lavender bush and I feel some sort of comfort from that.

I studied hard for a very difficult Nutritional Biochemistry exam, a subject so difficult, the entire class seems dumbfounded by its contents.  When I questioned the lecturer on various conflicts and easily misinterpreted information, she remarked "you don't need to get an 'A' to pass this subject!" And while I still don't know if I passed, I do know that I did everything in my power to learn for this exam, and there was nothing more that I could have done to get a better result.

Sebastian continues to be the bundle of joy he has always been with night time still being the hardest time of the day.  But never does he give me any trouble when I tell him it's time for bed or that I need help with breakfast because we are running late.  He rarely talks back or gives me attitude, but rather clings to me for comfort in his times of need.  Last week as he lay sobbing in his bed while hugging his special Teddy, he asked me why I don't cry anymore.  I looked at him and smiled.  "Honey, when I am with you, I have no need to cry.  You make me so very happy and I see your Dad in you every day.  When I am with you, I am with him, so I can't cry.  But when you go to school or to bed at night, I am all alone and then I cry, because then I feel sad, lonely and afraid.  But when I am with you sweetheart, my heart is full."   He understands now that crying is necessary and a good thing and he feels he can do this now without me.  His independence and organisation skills is staggering and I ooze the proudness of two parents.

Last week he attended the long awaited "Star Bear Camp", run by Anglicare for children aged 5-12 who have lost a close family member, most of which are a parent.  I did little to raise his expectations for this camp as I knew there would be much discussion over the loss of his father and I worried how he would handle this delicate subject without me.  We attended a pre-camp meeting where the parents could meet and the children could hang out and play games.  Unbelievably, out of around 12 families, three of us had experienced Brain Cancer!  Then late Friday afternoon, after a long day at school and half a tennis lesson, I took him to the drop-off location where he would meet up with his mentor, meet Star Bear himself, board the bus and head for the hills, or at least, the first hill up the freeway (Crafers). 

Leaving him in the care of strangers was the hardest thing I have ever had to do, but I knew that it was necessary for his own self development and grief journey.  He boarded that bus with such maturity, I was blown away.  I kept waiting for him to run out the bus and say "no I can't do this" as many others did, but the doors of the bus closed quickly, as many children cried and screamed for their one existing parent, but my young man sat and in the back of that bus, smiling and waving as they drove off.  I put on a brave face and smiled and waved back and once I knew the bus was gone, I ran to my car and sobbed. 

Although I had had a wonderful evening in the city with a close friend that night, sleep did not come easily, no matter how tired and shattered I was.  All my normal routines failed and I awoke the next morning feeling like that bus had run over my heart.  There is no contact from the camp, no calls to say "all is well" or a text to say "he is fine and asleep".  I did my best not to worry, but you can't take the mother out of a mother. 

As Sunday morning came, I was feeling a little better as I had taken one of my Mum's sleeping tablets, ensuring a much better night's sleep, albeit still not completely enough.  We decided on a much shorter beach walk at Glenelg, so that I could get home earlier as I was due to be at the camp at Noon to have lunch with "the campers" and attend the balloon release ceremony at 1pm.  When I arrived, I found him sitting at one of the outdoor tables with his mentor, filling out an evaluation form.  He looked up and smiled, red faced and full of stories to tell.  He didn't jump off the seat and come running, just looked up, smiled and continued with his current task.  Once complete, he told story after story about making his memory box, challenge hill, the night walk and the three other young boys who shared his room, who had also lost their Dads.

I spoke with his mentor for a while as he ran around bouncing a basketball and blowing bubbles.  He was so happy, so comfortable, so relaxed, it was truly beautiful to see.  Lunch, balloon release, piñata and certificate ceremony complete, we were finally able to head home.  There were many really tired young bodies and I told Sebastian to close his eyes and have a little rest for the drive home.  While he did do that, he didn't fall asleep and was ready to play Skylanders as soon as we arrived home.  And play we did once the bags were unpacked and we had had a half hour laydown as I felt more tired than he did!

The weekend was a success and although he isn't really any different (not that I was expecting him to be), I know, these experiences he has had have been priceless, and future opportunities to meet with these children at bi-monthly get togethers, will continue to strengthen his spirit and his feelings of not being the "only one" feeling sad about losing his Dad and feeling ok about being happy.

Post Number 51 - Feeling the Lows

I don’t even know how to start this entry.  Heck, it took every ounce of strength to even get myself to my computer and start writing.  I can’t remember a time in my life ever feeling so low, so checked out, so over life itself.  This week has been the worst by far. 

Back at College again and in to some quite heavy study, I thought I would start to feel that passion and sense of purpose again. Things were going so well and I felt like I was getting my groove back.  Mum settled in well and I had been planning meals and cooking great healthy food, ensuring servings for Mum were also in the planning, as she enjoys her main meal in the middle of the day, while we enjoy ours in the evening. 

In fact, things had been going so well, we all decided to spend the day at the beach last Sunday.  We carried armfuls of stuff to ensure we had adequate shade, seating, food & drink, clothing, towels and toilet facilities.  It was a hard slog for us all and even my 89yo mother had to carry her bags.  But we made it, setup camp and enjoyed the fresh air, cool clean waters and a healthy chicken and salad lunch.

Sebastian has been enjoying being back at school and thriving in his new class.  He has gone up two reading levels in less than four weeks, gone up a level at swimming and has consistently received high scores on his weekly spelling tests.  He is always happy and always ready to give me tons of hugs and kisses, his only demons coming up when he goes to bed at night.  His bedroom has constant reminders of his father.  His teddy bear made completely of Mark’s clothing, the car posters, the angels and the photos are all reminders of what he has lost.  Seeing him cry and pine for his Dad breaks my heart and is so painfully unbearable.  But he manages to find a way through it, sends his Dad a rainbow and is thankful for the butterflies and feathers that he receives each day.

I don’t quite understand why my world has come crashing down around me this week when everything has been going so well.  Maybe it is the lack of problems or distractions that has allowed me to finally really feel the magnitude of the loss.  Maybe it’s the stress of some really heavy content in one of my lectures, a 50% assignment due next week, a mid-year exam in three weeks’ time and a class presentation to prepare and deliver very soon.  I really don’t know why my body will not drop weight when I am eating such a healthy diet.  I also don’t understand why I feel so tired when I sleep solid for seven hours or why I keep waking up at 5am.  I don’t understand why my brain doesn’t function properly, why I seem to stumble so much on the keyboard and say “good-night” to Sebastian when I leave him at school in the morning!  For weeks I keep telling myself that it will get better and I just have to stick with it, but it seems to be getting worse.  I feel so helpless and paralysed, so incapable of making any big decisions and moving forward.  I feel stuck in quick-sand, but rather than calling for help, I just want the ground to swallow me up.

I have no tolerance for incompetence.  When links don’t work on my study notes, or when Centrelink can’t organise the simplest of things like a change of address, when within one organisation, one person tells me one thing and someone else says “oh no, that’s not the case at all”, I just want to scream!  Spelling and grammar mistakes are everywhere and it seems no one cares about anything.  It’s a “that’s good enough” society we live in and it drives me to screaming point.  Just today I watched an interview with two American M.D.’s that I admire greatly.  Dr David Perlmutter (author of Grain Brain & Brain Maker) and Dr Christine Northrup (countless books about women’s health).  They spoke of the things that I am passionate about when it comes to good health.  The gut microbiome, eating high fat foods over low fat, eating a lower carb diet and the scientific evidence that backs up all these things.  Christine mentioned that over 40% of people who have heart attacks do NOT have high cholesterol and yet we are constantly told by the media, by doctors and by literature that is put out by government health departments, that we should eat low fat, take statin drugs and lower our cholesterol and stop eating so many calories.  I sobbed and sobbed as I listened to them talk as I knew and understood their words to be true in Australia as it is in the U.S.  I look around me and everyone seems to be eating unhealthy, processed, packaged high carbohydrate, high sugar foods and I think to myself, I don’t know if I can really compete with all this.  It’s just too overwhelming, just too big a problem.  It seems the more I learn and the more my eyes are opened, the more I just want to close them and crawl back under the covers. Learning about vitamin supplements and how one vitamin stops the absorption of another, but they are sold together in a multi or combination supplement, seems absolutely ludicrous to me.  Surely these companies know this and yet they are allowed to sell them, even when they know they will have little to no effect.  How on earth is the average consumer supposed to know that Zinc is an antagonist to Vit C, when they are sold together in a tablet form or powdered form, labelled as “high dose” and charge you extra for this higher dose?  Who knew that slow cooking meat over several hours, depletes most if not all of the Vit B12 that the meat originally had before it hit the slow cooker?

It’s true, I feel in a state of hopelessness, a state of despair.  Maybe if I didn’t care so much, life would be easier. But I guess I just have to keep putting one foot in front of the other, in the hope that something will present itself to make it all worthwhile and meaningful.  Grief is something that doesn’t ever go away, it’s just something you learn to live with.  I still have a lot of learning to do in this area….a lot of learning.  There is no exam for this, no facts or figures, no set way that it will happen, it just manifests however it wants to for each individual that is going through it.  I’m not ashamed to say “I hate it”.  For a great part of my life I had been unhappy, felt unwanted, unloved and for eight amazing years I felt what it was like to be truly happy to the core, and now I have to learn how to live without this deep feeling of unhappiness yet again. 

Post Number 50 - The Holidays Are Over

Sebastian and I continued to enjoy every last minute of the school holidays.  Much work was completed in our “guest rooms” to prepare the space for Mum, who would be moving-in early February.  A new bathroom vanity was fitted, Mark’s old TV cabinet was modified to suit modern day TV’s, bookshelves installed, the air-conditioning was fixed and a new Ikea cocktail cabinet and lighting was installed to make for a mini kitchenette, complete with bar fridge.



Many trips to Ikea where made, which brought with it a load of stresses and extra costs, but the end result was finally worth it, once I stood back and looked at what I had designed and created.  The living space was beautiful, cleaned and ready.  Mum started to bring small boxes of things and she began settling-in, while also giving me some opportunities to go out in the evenings.  Everything was feeling right and I was looking forward to her being moved in completely.

Sebastian and I continued to keep ourselves busy in the last week of the school holidays.  We caught up with friends at the new Glenelg Playground, Bounced at Bounce, went to the movies, and played Skylanders after finding a heap of second hand items from a gaming shop.  I also enjoyed driving my new car, which I had purchased just after Christmas.  I was so excited to finally have a smaller car that was automatic, easy and light to drive and be able to listen to my favourite music playlists through my mobile phone.  I find that I drive much calmer and the travel is so much smoother and quieter and I no longer feel stressed when behind the wheel.

With only days left before school was due to start, we had an opportunity to visit friends in the Barossa.  The idea being we would camp in their back yard, have fun in their in-ground swimming pool and ride our bikes on the newly constructed bike paths.  Excited and looking forward to seeing our friends, camping and having the opportunity to ride our bikes, we eagerly packed our bags and gathered our camping gear.  But soon our excitement was crushed by severely bad weather.  It rained and rained and rained and the forecast described gale-forced winds!  So ironic when we haven’t seen rain for months!  Their backyard was flooded out and all hopes of camping diminished.  Disappointed, but still determined to go, we threw ourselves into Skylanders and hoped tomorrow would be a better day.

As the sun came up the next day, we decided to pack up and go.  At the very worst, we would still visit our friends and maybe get in a bike ride.  To our delight, the weather was lovely and we soon arrived and headed to Maggie Beer’s for lunch, followed by a dip in the pool.  We ended up sleeping in their motorhome which was a luxury compared to camping.  We had our own living quarters including a toilet, fridge and dining area.  The following morning we set out for our bike ride and I was so proud of Sebastian, who is still quite wobbly on his bike.  In total we rode nearly 10kms and he never complained once.  He was also quite proud of his achievements and the weekend was deemed a huge success. 

That evening, I organised everything for school the next day.  Lunches prepared and breakfast made and ready to eat (Jamie Oliver’s black rice pudding with mango and yoghurt), it was just as well, as we both slept in longer than we should have.  We enjoyed our delicious healthy breakfast, packed and headed for school.  Seb was so excited to see his friends and to start the school year not being the youngest.  We learnt where everything had to go, met the new teacher and after many hugs, I finally left him.  He never looked back and I had to walk quickly back to the car to hide the tears that were streaming uncontrollably down my cheeks.  Last year I was so excited for him and I remember Mark and I went shopping for a new mattress on his very first day at school.  I was so happy to spend the day with Mark, that I never felt sad about taking Sebastian to school.  But this year was so very different.  It was like losing my best friend all over again. 

I kept myself busy with housework, washing and grocery shopping, but eventually I just crashed.  I fell into the lounge and sobbed and sobbed.  Not really sure who I was grieving for, but I just felt so sad, so alone and so empty.  It was time to grow up again and start life.  Back to school, back to my studies, back to routine and back to being a responsible grown-up.  I had so enjoyed living in Seb’s world.  It had been so much fun, constantly talking about Skylanders or Star Wars and seeing the world through his eyes.  Sure we had some sad moments, but as a whole, our time together had been so special and I was so glad that I didn’t interrupt it with summer school studies.  But now that was over.

I started cleaning up my office which had become a dumping ground for “stuff” as I felt I couldn’t begin studying in such a mess.  I desperately needed filing space for all my college paperwork and the countless health articles I had gathered over the past two years, when it dawned on me that the entire second drawer of my filing cabinet had been dedicated to Mark’s paperwork, so began to go through it in order to archive, shred, sort and throw away.  Again I found a treasure, tucked away at the back of the cabinet.  A yellow envelope labelled Mt Gambier High School, inside, four SACE writing-based literacy assessments.  His subjects were English, Economics, Maths and Physics.  He had written about Einstein’s Theory of Relativity, The Parabola, Planned and Market Economics, but the one that jumped out at me the most, was the English assignment titled, “Mark Thompson’s Life Journal”!  Typed pages describing his lifestyle on the farm, his adventures in the Pine Forest (all alone at only two years of age), playing in the car dump, his first pee-wee motorbike at age five, moving from the farm to the township of Mt Gambier, going to the Drag Races with his older brother, the nerves and stresses of starting High School and his beloved new Amiga 500 computer.  He wrote in detail how his Mum didn’t believe he needed a new computer and how he had saved for months to accumulate $350 towards the $800 computer system and how eventually his Mum gave in and paid the rest of the money towards his dream computer.  In his last paragraph he wrote; “I enjoy spending as much time in front of my computer as possible, and I particularly like writing my own games when I have time.  In the future, I would really like to become a computer programmer, because programming is the one thing I really enjoy doing.”

While I am so happy that Mark fulfilled his dream of becoming a computer programmer, and I know he loved his work, one can’t help but wonder whether years of sitting in front of this marvellous invention caused him any harm.  I know there are theories out there about radiation from computer screens and television screens, however, I know of other brain tumour patients who worked in the building industry or on the land, so it is not responsible to say this was the cause.  I have my own set of theories as to how Mark might of become unwell and I believe there is no “one” thing that causes cancer or other serious illnesses.  I believe there are a list of different circumstances that together, can manifest into anything including brain cancer.  I believe our lifestyles, eating habits, work habits, thought processes and pollutants in our food, water and air, all play a part in our general health and well-being.  I wish I had all the answers to finding perfect health.  I myself am astounded by how sluggish my body is, when I eat a diet low in carbohydrates and high in nutrient dense food.  I sleep well now, and yet don’t feel refreshed in the morning.  My body aches and I have put on more weight that I care to admit, yet my eating habits haven’t changed. 

I’m told that grief can manifest in many ways, including weight gain, yet I don’t emotionally eat.  I only hope in time, my body will get back in to balance and with Mum living with us, I will have the opportunity to go out and run again in the mornings and practice yoga or some other such activity in the evenings.  The journey of grief is a long one however and will most likely continue for many years, if not forever.  The state of mind is so powerful over the body and it can change how the body behaves very dramatically.  So for now, I will put the bathroom scales away and keep moving in the direction of best health and keep taking life one step at a time.

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.