Change.....

What if life stayed the same?

If it got stuck like a scratched vinyl record and kept playing over and over--the same theme--the same moments--the same day? It would drive us insane.

We’d be bored.

We’d question our existence.

We wouldn’t value life lessons--our mistakes, our experiences or our successes, or what they teach us. How they build character—and resilience—and empathy.

Sometimes I’d love to be stuck in a day in the past. To relive some moments--like watching Savannah take her first wonky steps into my arms—or witnessing Dempsey’s first breath, screaming and red and beautiful.

But life’s not like that. There’s no way we can stop change, or life, or what a day will bring. And there’s beauty and hope in that.

As I watch Dempsey turn from a tween into a teen there’s so many gifts I didn’t get to experience with her sister who died. Like watching her at her concerts play her trumpet with so much pride as she taps her foot to the music—which makes me smile. Or seeing her rush into a café here in our small town and tie her apron up to help volunteer. I always sit in my car, watching her through the window and selfishy indulge in the warm feeling it gives me. Or even simply watching her giggle at a message on her phone, which she never shares.

After my sister died, and my mum, and my daughter so many changes happened with each death, I felt my life was out of control. The pain was relentless and the changes unstoppable.

 My nephews and nieces had no mother to kiss them goodnight. I had no mother to call and lean on and to help me get through my own daughter dying. And Savannah, oh Savannah, there were so many changes in my life that I lost my identity. I misplaced my life. But I also gained so much through these painful changes.

Grief builds character.

It makes us more resilient, stronger to face change.

And even though grief manipulates my life sometimes, I’m possibly a better version of myself because of it. And I’m sure if you’re reading and you’ve been through a life changing challenge then you are too.

You notice the deep pink in the sunset, and smile at seeing someone you love laugh, really laugh, or achieve, or try to achieve. Yes, grief is life changing, but sometimes it’s the yin to the yang, without grief in my life, I wonder if my joy would be as intense, or my determination as passionate or my mindfulness as present?

On Monday I took my sisters twins out for lunch. You see they’ve finally finished their schooling after thirteen years and they’re busy studying hard and sitting exams which will change and mould their direction in life.

As we sat in a booth at our local pub, with one of their brothers, I listened to them, talking over one another, laughing, happy, yet anxious about what the future and change will bring. Like moving to the big smoke and attending a University they know nothing about.

But their enthusiasm and happiness about change was contagious.

I smiled as I sat there listening to them grill their big brother about city life.

Change is a coming again.

I’ll miss my twins, it’s like they’re mine. Even though they’re not.  My sister would be over the moon proud!

In a few short months there’ll be big changes, for them, for me, for Dempsey and their dad. But I feel sure they’ll be okay. Knowing that grief has taught them too—to embrace change, to jump aboard the train of life and allow it to take them where it will and trust that all they’ve been through will help buffer them against any challenge they face, an invisible amour that will kick in when the chips are down.

And I know I’ll survive, and they will too—Emerald grabbed my arm and told me, “We’re so doing Sex in the City brunches with you in the city next year.” I smiled at that.

Life does alter and transform us, especially through grief.

But we adjust and we embrace—every day brings new light, new hope—and change x

**This post is for Matty's Mom who inspired me tonight x

Life and Grief can be like a kaleidoscope......

This past week I’ve been spring cleaning.

Getting rid of ‘stuff,’ especially in Dempsey’s closet which is packed to the rafters with all sorts of things, baby blocks, stuffed animals and dress ups that’s she’s grown out of.

I always stumble upon some of Savannah’s toys…and they always pull at my heartstrings, thinking of her playing peacefully with them. Sometimes the memories hurt, and other times I smile…..

However, one of them reminded me of life, and turning points that can come in time as you travel down the long twisted path of grief.

I found her kaleidoscope. I remembered her holding it up to the light, twisting and turning the end of it…fascinated with the shapes and patterns that the glass fragments magically made.

It also reminded me of the journey of grief…how after the fragments of our lives have been shattered and our world becomes black, that over time, we start to evolve and change, and after a while, maybe a long while for some….our complex grief and hurt morphs into an appreciation of life’s gifts.  For me, how lucky I was to have had my loved one’s in my life.  That inside the heartache and turmoil lays beauty…if you look for it.

Savannah's kaleidoscope I found...

And for a long time after my loved ones died, my world became black. 

There was no color.

I couldn’t sit alone with my thoughts, I needed constant distractions. I was afraid of my grief.....

The flashbacks were vivid and painful.  However now, most days, I can let my mind wander back down memory lane.

I’ll always have my memories….but as days turn into months and years, new memories replace the difficult old ones, and one day you do have a turning point…like a kaleidoscope, your grief slowly transforms into an appreciation for what you do have.

This week, these are some moments that made me thankful...….

While cleaning out my kitchen cupboard, I found this treasure tucked away.  Dempsey had decorated it when she was only five.

It took me back instantly, to when she was little, her shaky writing and the smiley sun made me smile.

I also revisited my guilt that I wasn’t as present for Dempsey as I should’ve been during those days, but it couldn’t be helped…some memories are hazy…a byproduct of grieving I think?

However, focusing on the here and now and building new memories help fan the embers of healing. Like last Thursday…we had Mum’s and Muffins at Dempsey’s school.

After a long line up with other mum’s, waiting patiently for a stale muffin, I got to sit with my baby on the grass, in a sunny serene spot at the school and share some time with her….precious time.  She loved it!

And then of course there’s happy hour at our house! :)

Last Friday, one of our friends made the best margaritas I’ve ever indulged in…ensuring there were plenty of laughs around our back ‘T’….and a slightly fragmented head on Saturday! :)

On Monday, we purchased some Girl Scout Cookies from my gorgeous friend Sandra.

Every year the Girl Scouts bring out a ‘special edition cookie’ this year, to my delight, and Dempsey’s, are “Savannah Smiles” and they did just that for Dempsey and me….like a message imprinted on the box from Savannah, not to forget to smile!

I also appreciated that my lovely friend acknowledged how ‘special’ they are because of our Angel.

 Dempsey has been playing around with my iPhone camera and took this photo of me.

I think some photos taken after loss are like a window to the soul....

My sister Tarnia used to say with a smile, “Photos don’t lie Diana!” (always when they captured a crappy image of me…I think because she was so photogenic! :))

And when I looked at this photo, I remembered her words.

I can see a difference in my eyes, how they’ve changed.

Sometimes I see my happy innocent sparkle from ‘before’ has altered, replaced with a vulnerability and sadness that others don’t see….but Dempsey has captured here.

However, it’s like a badge of honor I wear physically.  One that show’s my soul’s ability to change and to have survived. But only I see it.  And I’m ok with that now….

Inside Savannah's kaleidoscope....


These days, I have color back in my life.

I’m mindful of the beauty all around me.....

And last night, with all that in mind, as I held Savannah’s kaleidoscope up to our kitchen light….slowly turning it, watching the pretty glass prisms take on different shapes, Dempsey appeared next to me.

“Mummy, if you shake it up, the pattern always changes. Did you know it’s never the same?”

And I had to smile at her words…a reminder to me to notice the many colors and transformations grief and life often bring.

That there are turning points, where the days become colorful again amongst the black and white…that challenges and grief evolve, like the complex patterns trapped inside Savannah’s toy, with twists and turns we are altered and transformed, now aware of the preciousness and beauty and fragility of life through our journey’s…just like the optical illusion a kaleidoscope creates......

MY experience with marriage after the death of a child....

Marriage is an amazing union if you are lucky enough to find your soul mate.

Two people, who adore one another enough to celebrate their love in front of a crowd of family and close friends….sometimes, in a big flowing dress and a pretty veil, with a multi layered cake and sentimental toasts and bouquets of fresh flowers….and fun. 

It’s commitment!

And it’s rewarding when it’s good. And stressful when it’s bad…but in my books, because of how I’ve been raised, it’s forever….

And I write about this today because Peter and I have had our differences this past week, over something trivial…and when this happens I have to remind myself of our journey together and that in the grand scheme of life, it’s only a minor thing and we will grow from it….hopefully. :)

Marriage after the death of a child is different.   It changes….well ours has.

In my experience, and I say that because every relationship is not the same….there are two things that can happen after losing the one perfect thing you created together…and that you love more than anything else in this world.   Either you can grow closer through a bond that nobody else can possibly relate to…

Or you can begin to drift apart through the different way in which each person grieves and changes.  And I know after losing Savannah, I almost lost my marriage too.  Through my own obsessions with the way Peter was dealing with the death of Savannah and his grief.

Besides giving birth to my two babies, marrying Peter was the happiest day of my life. It was the only time I’ve ever felt like a real life Princess. With Sydney Harbor as our backdrop, on an unusually warm October day, we committed to each other. It was whimsical and romantic….

And it’s every little girls dream is to find her Prince Charming, to marry them and ride off into the sunset…and live happily ever after….

The only wedding pic I have on file..the rest are in oz

But what if happy ever after gets stolen?

And one day you wake up and happy is replaced with your worst nightmare?

And you have to live through emotions you never dreamed were in the realm of a human’s spirit…or a marriage?

I’ve found men grieve differently to women.   Well Peter and my dad and my brother do.   Some men like Peter tend to be private.   Bottling up their emotions and withdrawing into themselves.   Whereas woman need to express or purge their emotions, to vocalize them and cry and scream.   Some men on the other hand sometimes grieve in private….like they are taught to do from a young age…that it’s not ‘manly’ to show their tears or express how they really feel.

After Savannah died, day after day after day, I cried.

And because Peter never showed his emotions, suppressing his grief and never opening up, I felt deserted, alone and angry. Angry that he wouldn’t share how he felt in losing our four year old daughter.

It took me a long time to realize his way of dealing with our overwhelming loss was ‘his way!’ And it didn’t mean that he loved Savannah any less, or missed her sweet smile any lesser than I did….. And I accept that now.

Losing a child can destroy a marriage….or make the bond stronger.  Nobody else can grasp the suffering you go through when you have to bury your child….except your partner.   And sometimes I had expectations of Peter being different, or wanting him to be different to what he was.   Some days I felt abandoned….tears became my best friend.

But with pain comes strength, and over time I began to realize I had to let go of my destructive thinking about Peter not sharing his grief and let that too come between us or my anguish would unravel not only our marriage but my life…and Dempsey’s life.

Our marriage has changed.  We aren’t the same fun loving innocent people we were on that warm October day in 1997 that said “I do” to each other.  That promised to be there for one another…”In sickness and in health.”  And I don’t know if the loss of our daughter has a lot to do with that…or whether it’s that you can become complacent in a relationship and take each other for granted as time ticks by.

I do know that marriage after loss or challenges that change a family takes work and commitment and forgiveness and tolerance or respect. It’s a two way street.

As a couple, we’ve survived something so profound, bound together like a tightly woven rope in our grief over losing our daughter.  Together we made Savannah…something so beautiful….and together we watched her die. And that part has created a bond that we’ll always have. And it is a paradox, but those days were the most precious of times, mixed with the most painful of days.

One of my fav pics of Savannah at 6 months old with Nannie's chemo hat on during a visit with mum


I’ve read different statistics on divorce after the death of a child, and I hope we never become a number….

Our responsibilities have changed from when Savannah was with us…our roles as carers of a terminally ill child no longer remain….but as parents of our other daughter Dempsey, combined with the bond and love over surviving the worst life has to offer will always be there.  And hopefully, that will always be enough. :) x

Comparing the Roses and the Thorns in Grief... x

When you experience the loss of a loved one, or you go through an enormous challenge in life, there will always be ‘the before’ and ‘the after’ – ‘the rose’ and ‘the thorn.’

Sometimes, you compare how your life was before the event…in contrast to how it is now….

And I think grief or hardship, manages to rearrange your thoughts and change how you look at life.

Over time, it redirects your emotions and priorities from the unimportant stuff to what really matters in the big picture.   Like leaving those dirty dishes in the sink for just a few more hours…. :)

It also changes shape from a massive inconceivable event, that overtakes your life…to one where, eventually, you evaluate, you adjust, you absorb, you analyze….and you learn to cope with things…that would’ve upset you some time before.

And I don’t’ know if it’s just me, or if this is part of a grief phenomenon….to compare all the time….to draw comparisons from the before and the after?

For example….

Last Thursday, I dropped Dempsey off at the school gate, headed to the gym for a workout and then returned home for a shower.  When I got upstairs I noticed my bed had been made…I scratched my head, stared at the neatly made duvet, and the pillows sitting perfectly in place…I honestly thought I was going crazy! I couldn’t remember doing it.

“Maybe Peter did it?” I thought to myself. (which would be a bloody miracle as this has never happened in over 20 years.) :)

That night after school, Dempsey asked; “Did you notice your bed this morning Mummy?”

And it clicked, the penny dropped…”Did you make Mummy’s bed Precious?” I inquired, surprised.

And with a huge dimpled grin, my gorgeous little girl said, “Yes, its Random Act of Kindness Week at school Mummy!”

I grabbed Demps in a big bear hug, made a fuss and told her how sweet it was of her to do that!

It made my heart surge with love and pride.  Something so simple, yet it meant so much!  So I told her I’d return the ‘random act’ and let her choose where she wanted to go for dinner because Peter was travelling with work that night.

Dempsey chose Lucille’s, a rib restaurant which has become her new favorite.

Sitting across from her at the diner an overwhelming sense of adoration washed over me….I suddenly noticed she’s growing up so quickly, and seems to be changing…or blossoming, right before my eyes.

I felt this amazing rush of emotion, I wanted to capture the moment, so I grabbed my iPhone and took her photo…of course with Demps whining..."Muuuummy do you have to!”

                       my rose... :)


And in my mind, like I always do, now…..I started to reminisce and compare…to the thorn, and the rose……….

I thought about how she’s just a bit older than my nephew Alexander was when my sister was killed…and whether she’d be able to cope if it happened to me?

I compared her to Savannah, wondering what Savannah would look like now if she was sitting next to Dempsey?

I compared her to my nieces…how they are almost 12…and I wondered how more beautiful she’ll get when she reaches their age?

I compared the noisy family of six behind us with our family of three…and wondered what it would be like if Savannah was alive and there were four of us?

Maybe it’s a survival tool I use, a technique to deflect my grief, or categorize and sort it into some kind of functional practical device so I can absorb and survive it?   I’m not sure, but I do it all the time……

And yesterday, the Gardener’s have been in our yard, sculpting…or butchering Savannah’s sacred rose bush.  They’ve stripped it of every leaf, every rose and every thorn!

And I was mortified about it…but….I didn’t cry like I would’ve a few years ago!

Again, I compared, how I can cope with things like this….now, as opposed to ‘before,’ where I would’ve been devastated…..

I was still pissed off, and I’ll be leaving them some detailed ‘instructions’ next week. :) 

But the comparison made me realize grief does change and become manageable as the days move forward.  It has to.

Like Savannah’s rose bush...after you’ve been decimated by an event….you do regenerate, you grow and you compare.  You discover you too can be revived…and your thorns, or your grief, can change and bloom into roses someday….just as Savannah’s special rose bush will again……….

                     How Savannah's rose bush normally looks...most of the year round.



I’d love to hear if anyone else does this…the comparing, or some obsessionisms as I call them…that grief creates??

Or maybe, it’s a Libra thing….and it’s just me and I’ve learnt to compare the roses and adjust with the thorns in order to blossom….

Ps; Today on this Valentine’s Day my thoughts are with anyone who’s missing a loved one.  I hope you have a happy memory you can call up to fill your blue cup with sunshine…or chocolate you can indulge in…..even if it’s only for a little while..... x

The week leading up to 'her' day.....

Last week I joined the gym. And I’m feeling pretty good about that! :)

The rush I get when I push myself…when beads of sweat trickle down my face feels good…like I’m being cleansed.  It’s like I’m exorcising (instead of exercising) some of my demons out. And this time of year the despised D’s are granted access into my mind….

You see this week is Savannah’s week. The week she left us…the week she slowly deteriorated before our eyes and there was nothing we could do…the week she took her last breathe.

Savannah 2 weeks before she died in the jacuzzi with Peter and Dempsey


And no matter how hard I try, I’m pre-occupied with haunting memories of that week.   And anyone who’s lost someone know’s, sometimes the week leading up to the day can be harder than the actual anniversary.

So sweating away on the stair mill today, with my iPod on shuffle, the song “In the arms of an angel” came on. 

It’s one of my favorites and usually makes me emotional, but today while exercising…listening to the words - “You are pulled from the wreckage of your silent reverie. You’re in the arms of an Angel, may you find some comfort here.”  I lost it. I had to hit pause, step off the stepper and surrender to my tears in the safety of a toilet stall.



Push play.....

I know this week will be filled with moments like that….and I know the tears help to heal.  I know I can’t just shut these feeling out.  My grief is a life long process…and especially on anniversary weeks, it intensifies.

However, I’m ready for it.  I know what’s coming.  The remembering.  The longing....and the “why’s?” I also know that by next week the sadness and pain will simmer back down.

Friday night we had our first get together around our back T.

These days, not much surprises me…..but Friday night, I was overwhelmed and staggered at a friend of ours, her generosity and insight.

This friend, Nicola, hasn’t seen us since the mid 1990’s.  She’s been a career girl in Bahrain, living a fascinating life, however, last year, through good old Facebook, we reconnected.  

And as you do when you touch base with someone from your past you ask questions.  Nicola told me all about her exciting life and finished off the email with..”I had a quick look on your FB – you guys have got 2 little girls, gorgeous….your turn!”

I thought, “Oh no!...she doesn’t know all that’s happened.” And I wasn’t sure how she’d react to our tale of happiness, love, tragedy and heartache.  But I was pleasantly surprised.  She was more compassionate than many of my friends are...and it was comforting!

So Friday night, she brought me a gift.  In a little black velvet pouch…with a letter, for she somehow remembered it’s Savannah’s anniversary on Saturday.

These days, I don’t do letter’s in front of the giver’s as I get emotional.  So I saved her note but pulled open the pouch.

Out dropped the most beautiful black stones. Two of them. One for Peter and one for me. (I know Peter won’t utilize his stone..he won't talk about Savannah's death)

They are Apache Tear’s also known as Black Apache Tear Crystals. And if you’re like me and have never heard of them, they are healing crystals.

Legend states after the Pinal Apaches were attacked by the military. Almost 50 of the 75 Apaches were shot during the surprise assault. The remainder of the tribe withdrew to a cliff edge and chose to die by leaping off the rock face.

For years following, the Apache women wept and mourned their loved ones where the bleached bones of the dead were wedged in the crevices of the cliff.  Their sadness was so enormous, and their burden of sadness so genuine that the Great Father imbedded the tears of the Apache women into the black stones.

‘Legend’ also states, “He who owns an Apache Tear Drop will never have to cry again because the Apache women have shed their tears in place of yours.”

Beautiful right? These stones are meant to help with deep healing…and God knows I could use some of that this week!

So I was flabbergasted, teary, grateful and oh so moved by Nicola’s gift.  She’d even spent two hours performing Reiki on them….in hope they’ll help us.

Nicola's lovely note...

We spent the early hours of Saturday morning talking about grief and death and afterlife…and “Why Savannah?”  And I know I’ll never know why….it will haunt me forever. 

However, my wise, beautiful friend also had a different view on “Why it was her time..”

Nicola’s suggestion was that maybe she was taken by her guardian Angels early so something even more horrific didn’t happen down the track.

                           Beautiful at almost 3....Savannah just before her disease progressed...

And while I appreciated her point of view, to me, there is nothing more hellish than Metachromatic Leukodystrophy.  It stole everything from her, period!

Friday night I slept with my Apache Tear’s under my pillow hoping their legend will work some magic on my coming week….

And if they don’t, that’s okay too…I know I’ll be in the arms of some Angels, in friends like Nicola and those that knew Savannah.

There’s nothing anyone can do to alter my pain. It’s mine alone.  However, those that reach out do make a difference on those difficult days…and I will find comfort in that....

They know this week is challenging….it always will be….however, their love, support and remembering, will carry me through….like my memories of a beautiful little 4 year old girl who's time was cut short.

“In this sweet madness, oh this glorious sadness
 That brings me to my knees
 In the arms of an Angel far away from here
 From this dark, cold hotel room, and the endlessness that you fear
 You are pulled from the wreckage of your silent reverie
 In the arms of an Angel; may you find some comfort here….."

What will you choose in the New Year?

Past

Present

Future

Which one do you give most attention too…which is most important to you?

Me, well I mull over the past a lot. It simmers away in my memory bank, like a slow cooker stew….and I try not to dwell on the ingredients, as it’s just that…the past. Has been, gone, changed, irreversible….

However, the person I am now has a lot to do with my past. And with grief or loss, the past plays a huge part in how you face your future.

The new year is almost here, and I find around this time I begin to reflect on what I want to change about myself in the days ahead to make me a better person, a better mum and friend to others. It’s like Mother Nature gives us a clean slate to start again on January 1…or try to anyway….it’s all about choice.

When Savannah was diagnosed with her terminal illness and we were told there was no cure…anywhere in the world for our baby, there was nothing we could do.....I felt powerless.  All choices had been stolen. 

But over a period of time and with the help of my amazing mum, I started to see I did have a choice.  A choice in how her last few months would be spent.   Outside in the sunshine, or inside in a hospital bed. Having books read to her or leaving her with a carer…there were choices.  And that was empowering.

And her death taught me it’s the present that’s the most important.  The here and now and learning to tap into my senses to enjoy what’s happening around me….to notice everything with grace.  And after a while you learn you can do this.  You can’t buy a smile, or bottle a laugh, or replace the touch of a hand…..they are beyond price!

Christmas day was all about family for me.

I made a conscious effort to spend a few minutes looking around our decorated table. Not at the silver reindeer candelabra that had his six antlers a blaze on our table. Or the fine red wine I had topped up in my crystal goblet.

It was the faces parked up at our table I noticed. They were glowing brighter than any candle ever could.

There was laughter from a few different generations of conversations going on…the grand folks, mixed with the Z Generation made for interesting listening…. :)

Demps teaching Brenda how to play Angry Birds...and my gorgeous Dad!


And watching Dempsey trying to teach Dad’s 75 year old wife Brenda how to play ‘Angry Birds’ on her new iPod that Santa brought was priceless.  

Yes, it’s all about engaging in life and surrendering your senses.  Smelling the plump turkey and listening, really listening to the banter…it’s seeing those smiles and feeling them in your heart….and squirreling them away….being thankful.

I see death, or grief like a bully...it pushes it's way into your life.

Sometimes it’s in control and you do feel helpless.   But boy does it feel good when you stand up to it….to make the choice not to let it destroy what’s left of your life......

Not having Savannah with us will always be painful....I accept that now. 

Every Christmas and every birthday or anniversary, or even a trip down memory lane will be hard.....what I'll never know about her is hard!  And that’s part of the package.   But choice is also part of the deal.....and choice or making a commitment in trying to achieve something, whether it's happiness or succeeding at a challenge does ingrain strength inside.  It gives you that push…or shove, to do better…or be better.

Christmas night was special to me.  I had my sister’s 16 year old son Fraser all to myself because Tone had taken the rest of the family to the big smoke.

For 4 hours we talked non stop about Tarnia...and life and love and loss….and making the right choices….and there’s a lot when you’re only 16! :)

Charlotte and Emerald the night of their Graduation....

While we were in Australia I had many special moments.

Like seeing my sister’s twin girls graduate from Elementary School. I got to buy their dresses, and do their hair…and witness their butterflies and excitement.  I got to spend time with my Dad and Tone and my sister’s oldest Alexander…precious times!

But yesterday, I had to say goodbye to all of that…to family and friends, and board the big bird and fly over the oceans back to the USA…without any of them. And it was hard.

Seeing the kids and Tone in my rear view mirror as we drove away on Wednesday night made me cry. And hugging my Dad and not knowing if I’ll see him again was painful.

However, again, choosing to be appreciative that we can even afford to fly home and see family slowly ebbed its way into my mind….and that helps.

A beautiful friend of mine reminded me that life changes, that’s part of the deal too. They also said “The weight in your heart gets a bit lighter as time goes on.” And it’s true, it does.  It’s all about change and choice and committing to keep that thought always in the forefront of my mind.

So my new year’s resolution will be to ‘choose’ to be happy…no matter what.  To try to entrust I’m exactly where I’m meant to be on this journey and to embrace whatever 2012 (OMG) brings.

Thanks to you for supporting my humble blog…It’s a privilege to read your comments.

Hopefully, I’ll look forward to seeing you next year..and whatever next year brings! Cheers! x

A G'day and a cuppa of comfort! :) x

G’day from Australia….finally!!!! :)

Our plane trip back to Oz was long, however I was reminded of the beauty of being up in the heavens....watching the sunrise over the wing of the airplane...an indication of what was to come when our big bird touched down.

What can I say…..it’s kinda hard to find a word in the dictionary that measures up or encapsulates this feeling of being home with my family! I guess the closest one that springs to mind is ‘comfort’.


Everyone needs comfort…… whether you’re like me and sometimes need it on a special day, to soothe your sadness or just to up lift your mood if you having a Debbie downer day.

For me, coming home means facing some old memories, faded photos of past happy times and living reminders in my nephews and nieces of my sister who’s missing….who will always be missing….

However, the comfort in a hug or a smile, the slamming of car doors as I hear visitors arrive….or a “You look great!”….and the excitement of the kids to see, us balances out the sad stuff.

This trip, like last year, I’ve been challenged, as I always am, with the reality of how our lives are now….without mum, my sister or Savannah here.  It’s different when we’re in the USA, different in the way that I’m not constantly reminded with old memories and places…it seems easier some days.

I came across this anniversary card from mum...her writing reminded me so much of her....


Whereas here, especially this year, we’ve been moving into our new home….packing up mum’s old china and crystal and wrapping old photo frames in newspaper, and I wouldn’t be human if these things didn’t tug at my heart…but they also bring me comfort....now….well most of them anyway!  I’m not so sure about the photos with the 80’s hairdo I found. :)

Last year, we purchased a 2 acre plot of dirt…on a lake.

A 2 acre green canvas just waiting for lodgers.  But we have to share on this land on the lake…however I don’t mind, because you see it’s with a plump pelican we’ve named Percy, a graceful family of black swans that actually do swan around, with 6 fluffy signets in tow.

There are a couple of baby bunnies that hop by each morning and nibble our grass.  And brown ducks that nose dive, shaking their booty at us, gorging on whatever inhabits our lake.

 Oh and I can’t forget the frogs…at night that’s all I can hear, no freeways, just endless croaking, a symphony of amphibians that serenade one another as the sun disappears. 

And all of this is framed with the lake, so calm, it looks like a giant mirror, reflecting a carpeted sky of endless stars.  Its organic magic from Mother Nature….medicinal and tranquil….and…comforting! :)

On my beautiful Mum’s anniversary, I thought a lot about her and wished she was here to see our new home…..

Mum with Savannah the day we arrived home from hospital

I imagined her with her elbow resting on our table, holding a glass of champagne filled with bubbles saying “Here’s cheers Darlin,” in a toast to health and happiness as she always did…..and I do now. :)

I stayed busy, with Peter having morphed into a Sergeant Major, piling box upon box at our front door for me to unpack, however Demps kindly interrupted, yelling from the lounge room to “Come look Mummy….quick!” 

As I rushed into the room, not sure of what I’d see…..there, outside our front window, stretched from one side of the horizon to the other, was the most magnificent rainbow…

It was like mum was sending me a not so subtle message that she knows I miss her so much, but more importantly, that she’s be thrilled we’re in our new home and ‘happy.’

And just like that, I felt reassured.  And while a rainbow will never be consolation that my mother isn’t here, I felt like she was watching down from heaven….sending me a sign.

I carry the best of my mum inside my heart…she wouldn’t want me to be walking around sad, and I always keep that in mind.

We’ve managed to recreate happy hour in the Southern hemisphere, with Friday night drinks in our new serenity.

My sister’s twins had a sleep over all weekend…to Dempsey’s delight…and mine! 

Mine that I get to tell them stories about their mum and me growing up.  Like how we’d squeeze into bed together and she’d tell me the Turnip story….or that she’d once had dinner with us around our table, while they were in safely tucked inside her belly waiting to be born. 

They both mutter a small hummph and smile.  I hope it gives them comfort, to learn things about their mum that isn’t here.  I know I get a lot of comfort out of their bony butts sitting on my lap, and the similarities to my sister in their pretty faces and mannerisms……

Watching Dempsey, Emerald and Charlotte is food for my soul, however I can’t help but feel there is always one little one missing in Savannah. I often imagine the 4 of them together, when they stand side by side.

And it’s funny, I’ve been baking bread with our old Panasonic bread maker, dusted it off and fired her up….on Saturday, the house was filled with that doughy smell of freshly baked bread!  As I pulled the loaf out of the tin, Charlotte commented,  “Do you know Diana, the smell of freshly baked bread is 8^th on the list of comforting things to humans!”  Her comment made me smile…..comfort is everywhere it seems, if you are aware of it….

I’m looking forward to the next few weeks, with lots of Aussie laughter echoing through our new house.

I’ll be intentionally building new memories, that I’ll store…like cookies in a cookie jar…a jar I can dip into anytime, that’ll offer up some crumbs of comfort when I need them…I’ll store the new one right beside my old jar of memories…that sometimes, I like to indulge in…but sometimes…the lid stays on tight….and that’s ok too…..

As we say in Oz….catch ya later on matie! :)

 

Life is like a bubble! x

Before we head home to Australia, we always head out to Ontario Mills, a massive outlet shopping centre where the bargains are abundant. We pick out presents to take back and hand out. It puts a smile on my face to see the delight on the faces of our family and friends when they peek in their surprise goody bags….that’s if I don’t mix them up! :)

Peter already has our cases out with the present bags packed....


So on Sunday, we made the trek out to the Mall. And after carefully choosing gifts, the moths having fluttered out of Peter’s wallet, we stopped for lunch at the monstrous food hall.  We rested our weary  feet at a table next to a new attraction which caught Dempsey’s eye….and mine!  I guess I’m still a big kid at heart!

It was a mid size swimming pool with giant plastic bubbles floating around on top of the water…inside the bubbles….children!!!  :)   Bizarre right?   Eight bucks buys you five minutes of fun!

Peter and I watched Dempsey climb inside the deflated plastic cocoon as a huge noisy air hose inflated and stretched it out.

Peter and I scrambled for our iPhones.....filming Dempsey who was like a hamster trapped inside a wheel, trying to stand up then flailing about, giggling….it was cheap entertainment!

As I watched her scramble inside the big plastic ball, I thought about how bubbles sometimes mirror life….and grief or adversity that’s put in our path.

Life can be like a bubble!

It can be delicate, fragile even, and sometimes our perfect ‘bubble’ or world pop’s! And when this happens we’re left with just splinters of our past world…. and we think our bubble will never be whole again.

Life loses its sparkle, it stops glistening like it once did....

I know after my losses, after Tarnia was killed, and Mum was diagnosed with cancer....and especially after we were told our daughter would die before her 5th birthday...I never thought life would be worth living ever again....I wondered how we'd go on?

But in time, through love from family and friends....reading about others bubble’s that have burst....support, and faith and joy and hopefulness….you learn you can blow that bubble back up…sometimes, even bigger than it was before!

You manage to puff yourself back up….slowly…..you breathe life back into your little bubble, and sometimes, it even becomes stronger than it was before…...more resilient to the bumps along the way….and then your bubble turns into one that can survive the harshest of knocks and whirl winds that once threatened it.

And like bubbles, kids can sometimes be our teachers. Demonstrating that in life, you can find joy and laugh again in silly fun things.

Dempsey has certainly helped me see the lighter side of life and made me appreciate that money can’t buy the ‘good stuff.’

But of course in a 9 year olds eye’s it can!   And of course the ‘good stuff’ for her on Sunday was this hot pink puppy balloon….also full of air! :)

And he’s somehow started to stalk us in our house…floating from room to room. He sorta stares at me with his ‘puppy eyes’ and his smile, like he’s just about to say "WOOF!" :)

And on your journey you may not yet be where I’m at inside my little bubble….but you will be…someday…baby steps, or baby breathes I say!

Sometimes, our challenges are overwhelming…and I know I can’t control when my bubble will pop, or explode next, but if it does, with strength and some deep breathes, I’ll continue to keep breathing and love wherever my bubble drifts to in this world.

In the meantime, I’ll let my joy and excitement over the right here, right now……and the thought of heading back to Australia to my loved ones in a few weeks bubble up to the surface and feed my soul........with whatever floats my way in the future, even if it is more challenges…..

Wishing you sunshine if your cup is blue and you are facing some hard days ahead….. x