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

Just Keep Swimming....... x

Yesterday, my sister’s daughter Charlotte drove to my house.  Yes drove!  She’s old enough now and has her learner permit.  I’m so proud of her.  I couldn’t wait to watch her drive out of my driveway…and of course not back into my garage door!  And as Charlotte slowly edged back and forth with the car, giggling, my brother in law Tone rolling his eyes from the passenger seat, she finally got it. 

She straightened up the car and drove slowly out of my driveway.  And in one of those strange reflective moments, with her bright yellow L plate stuck to the back window, I couldn’t help but notice the other bright yellow sticker on the car bumper under her L plate.  

 It said “Touched Be The Road Toll.”

I stood on our front steps madly waving and blowing kisses to Charlotte who gave me a big thumbs up.  I know she couldn’t see the tears in my eyes.  But it was a poignant reminder of life.   

One, how it goes on, that people do survive tragedy and thrive and two, that these little moments after grief aren’t little moments.  They have the ability to trigger such instant responses.  At a subconscious level!  The sun was shining, I was filled with a sense of such pride and happiness but in a second of seeing that sticker and Charlotte’s L plate I was reminded just how fragile and unfair life can be sometimes.  Unfair that it wasn’t my sister standing with me, so proud.   

So how do we ready ourselves for those triggers after grief?  

How do we ignore them, shut them out, block them, avoid them?   

Well I’ve learned you can’t!  It’s all part of the process.  A process they call healing…or moving forward.  But sometimes it’s like one step forward, two steps back! 

But with every shot of pain and recognition comes more resilience.  More strength….to cope when these sparks of grief strike.  I’m not scared of them now….well not as much as I was.

And I wonder how other people cope with these little set backs or obstacles?  Whether they’re part and parcel of grief or whether I’m stuck, or I have too much time to contemplate?  Or all this means is that the love I had for those gone will always prompt sadness sometimes?  Is it odd or normal to still feel this way? 

I’m glad its August as it’s the later part of the year where it seems I get a breather from all the reminders of those I’ve lost.  May was Mother’s Day.  June was Savannah’s birthday and July my baby has her birthday.  Which seems always overshadowed by her sisters.  And I hate that!

And all these special days prompt tears and wondering and questioning why?  Year after year.  Its like you have to deal with the difficult stuff for three days.  The day before, the day of and the flatness of the day after….the recovery.   But we do recover.  We regroup.  We mend.  And thats the true miracle of the human condition.    Just keep swimming as Dory said!

You’d think I’d be better at this by now.  But it seems grief is like an eclipse.  When it’s around, everything else seems to be shadowed.  Even the good stuff!  The triggers are just that, like someone has a gun pointed.  The best way to deal with them is to let the pain sit with you, or pour out of you.  Whatever works!  But I do know that burying the pain can create addiction.  And with addiction, unless you deal with whatever is causing the pain, you will never fix the addiction if you have one.

And the other night I watched a TV show called ‘Offspring.’  A scene in it showed one of the main characters celebrating her birthday.  The table was full of family, laughing.  She got up to make a speech, how it was the first birthday without her dad.  And in the scene she melts into a mess of tears.  And out of the blue, lying on my couch under a fluffy throw rug, I started sobbing.  And I couldn’t stop.  It was like someone turned a tap on.

I miss my dad.

I m i s s  m y  d a d!

That one little scene in a silly show triggered grief tears and set me off! 

But I wiped my wet face with the fluffy throw rug, took a deep breath and let the pain sit with me.  And you know what….after a few minutes, the sadness passed. 

However I still got up, grabbed a crystal glass off the shelf, and poured myself a red.  i know I’m a work in progress….and that’s ok too! X

The death of my father........

 

 

I’m sitting typing this on our outdoor deck as Summer rain pelts down on our tin roof.  Across our lake I’m looking at a magnificent double rainbow in all its glory….a sign I hope.

 

 

 

On November 16^th, five weeks ago, my adored Dad took his last breath.  It’s weird to write that…and I still feel disconnected from his death.  Like he’s still here, still just a five minute drive away…I think the closeness we shared has left that imprint in my psyche.

 

And I hadn’t really processed that I’ve now lost both mum and dad until a friend used that horrible word ‘orphan.’  I don’t feel like an orphan, but I guess that’s the term for a person who has no parents.  I already hate that word!

We are never ready for those shocking phone calls are we?  Although you’d think I’d be ready for them now!

 

I was enjoying a work conference in picturesque Tasmania, a reward for my hard work, when I got a call from my husband to say Dad had suffered a stroke.  I was shocked of course, wasn’t ready again for such news!  I’d only spoken to him from the airport, again, naively thinking he’d be there when I returned. 

 

After hearing the news, I was hopeful it would be one of those strokes where maybe Dad just had a minor deficit in his voice or his limbs.   But after a frantic call to the hospital, the same one where my mother was and my sister….I learned that dad had suffered a fatal stroke….the nurse informing me that he would NOT recover….that he’d been moved to the palliative care room and I needed to get back as quick as I could if I wanted to say goodbye.

My voice was rushed, desperate, as I asked the nurse to put the phone to his ear, so I could tell him I loved him, in case I didn’t get another chance….and for my own selfish reasons, I got to tell him….and that I was on my way home.  Dad could only mumble, “cant’ talk, cant’ talk.  

All I could think about when I hung up was the date…it was my mother’s anniversary….however I felt some sort of peace that maybe his time would be the same day as mums........... 

And like after my sister died, I wished for a magic carpet to transport me home as fast as possible…but as I already know, that’s impossible too!  I had to wait out a sleepless night, and then through my tears, crazily jump on a plane and pray that he’d be there when I got the five hours back. 

On the plane home I sat biting my nails, willing the plane home as fast as it could go, crying and trying to hold it together and hide my pain from other passengers…. until I could rush to his bedside.

 

I got on the wrong bus at the airport, got stuck in traffic and drove most of the way with the road blurred through my tears.  But I made it.

 

I made it back for a whole day before he died.

 

He was unconscious most of that time, a morphine pump ensuring his passing to the other side with some sort of dignity….pain free.

 

The bleed in his brain covered almost his entire frontal lobe….the CT Scan confirmed my greatest fear.

‘My person,’...the only one who will ever truly love me unconditionally.... my rock , my daddy….the first man I ever loved wasn’t coming back.

 

 

 

In his hospital room was his wife and some of her relatives, the mood was somber however they wouldn’t stop talking…about insignificant shit…this is MY dad, my time!  

 

I wanted to yell, “Fucking shut up!”   I wanted time with him alone….just he and I…like when I was a little girl and I’d sit on the side of his bed every night and listen to what we’d be doing on the farm in the morning!!!

 

I got an hour and a half with my amazing dad…..alone, holding his hand and telling him how much he meant to me, and how much I’ll miss him, my tears dripping down my face, falling onto his arm.

 

The pain was burning and I knew it was only a matter of time until I’d never be in his presence again.

“Dad if you know I’m here squeeze my hand.”

 

I felt a flutter of his fingers….I know he knew I was there….and that gives me some comfort….

 

But I wasn’t there when he went at 3.20am.  I was sound asleep, exhausted but figuring there would be more time tomorrow……you’d think I’d learn by now…….

 

 

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

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

My sister Tarnia's anniversary...grief and time and how it feels...to me

Today is the anniversary of my only sister Tarnia’s death. A day when my family’s lives changed forever. In a split second, we were irrevocably altered.

Today, I can’t help think of all Tarnia has missed out on. How much of her love her children have missed out on. And how many nights her husband Tone has wished she was here.

My sister Tarnia and Mum


Grief over time changes, it has to.

Time does change the emotional feelings grief creates, from one of intensity when you first lose someone, to an ache, a sadness and a longing.

However, on anniversaries like today, you are catapulted back in time to all the horrors of that day, when you thought you’d never survive the emotions….but you do.

And if I had to describe my grief back then, in a way someone could understand, through the senses, I would say….

You SEE grief as black

You SMELL grief as acrid

You FEEL grief like cutting

You HEAR grief as silence

You TASTE grief as salty

On the weekend while browsing the stores, I came across this magnificent hourglass. I decided to buy it. It reminds me that life is but a bunch of fleeting moments, like the fine grains of sand that trickle from one bulb to the other….representing the fact that we are all in between our past and our future. And that we can grow from our experience, even if it IS grief….as to be the case with me.

The hour glass also symbolizes to be mindful of time…it awakens my consciousness to the fact that life goes on.

As it has since Tarnia has died. I’ve had the privilege of watching Tone pick up the broken pieces of his life since this day eleven years ago….and step up and raise their children….who are all happy and healthy!

The kids with Savannah....four months after the accident


I’ve thought today how her kids were just babe’s when they lost their mother. And how time has marched forward.......

Tone and the kids, Dempsey and me last Christmas.....

Alexander, who was only 8 at the time, is now in his first year at University…with a scholarship I might add! :) 

Fraser, her 5 year old who was such a mummy’s boy has a few years left of high school…and three jobs…and a pretty girlfriend.

And then there’s the twins, Emerald and Charlotte, who were only 6 months and never knew their mum. They are blossoming! Two beautiful girls who have each other…which makes me wonder if this is why Tarnia was blessed with twins…they will always have each other!


How proud, how absolutely beaming she would be with her family that she left behind. I can almost hear her nudging me, and talking through a half laugh as she did..bragging about her babies.  But she’s not here…so I do that now.

In her children, I feel a small part of what I lost losing Savannah has been patched back into my heart. I love them like my own.

So today, on her anniversary, grief has wrapped itself around my day.....it’s slowed it down and sharpened my senses.  And if I had to describe what my grief feels like today, what it’s taught me…through watching her children grow the past 11 years..through my senses I’d say;

I SEE grief as a flame

I SMELL grief as apple pie

I FEEL grief as a hug

I HEAR grief as the kids laughter

I TASTE grief as chocolate


Tarnia’s death has left a huge void in our lives. But it’s also taught us courage, growth and gratitude for so many things.  Today I noticed her children’s facebook pages, they haven’t forgotten either…and its clear they miss her too.

Alexander her oldest, who is the most like her in personality…private…has simply written "11". Fraser, who is a bit like me wrote “Eleven years has gone by and this has been the worst year yet.” My heart will always ache for them.

We will always be trapped by our memories, like the sand in my hourglass and our memories from that day eleven years ago…however, like the hour glass….you can choose to turn it upside down and start again….start tomorrow with my happy memories of her...and a promise I made, when I saw her last…to live life to the fullest and love her kids….because she can’t.

Today, I know two things...I will always miss my big sister...and tomorrow, will always be a new day…….

Sometimes to be happy, you gotta know sad....

“You cry a little then you wait for the sun to come out. It always does….” - Maria, from the Sound of Music

The scars of grief can run deep….sometimes, things trigger them, like the movie '7 Pounds' that Peter and I watched Saturday night…. or having old memories bubble back up to the surface with an old friend....it's wishing for something that you know will never come true...or too many late nights, burning the candle at both ends that makes you tired and susceptible to sadness…. 

However, it’s knowing that the sadness doesn’t last….that the sun will shine again that keeps you putting one foot in front of the other when you feel vulnerable and sad.   Its finding coping mechanisms and letting yourself cry that heals the heart.

For the past week or more, I’ve been in a mid summer slump….I have a long list of things that have to be done but can’t seem to get the energy to do any of them. Like the beds in our home that need stripping, and my two university assignments that are due next week, and this blog..…it’s dealing with an over tired 9 year old and her sadness that our Australian friends are gone.   Dempsey loved having the kids around the house again, especially one her sister's age.

My friend Vicki and her family arrived back from their 10 day vacation in Cancun.  We spent four fun filled days together with them.  And when they left Dempsey was heartbroken. She sat outside in almost 100o heat, amongst the chalk drawings Bonnie and Alex and her had created, crying her eyes out…waiting for them to come back.

I finally coaxed her inside and wrapped her up in my arms on my lap.  I tried to tell her that she has to be happy she had the time that she did with them, that we’ll see them again… But it pulled at my heart strings, to see her pain.  I cried too at my friend leaving, but I know I’ll see her again, and that makes the hurt that little bit less.  You have to find positives in every negative I’ve found.

You have to find things that will transform the melancholy moods into an upbeat frame of mind.  This week, my weapon against the blues was running.  Pounding the pavement in our surrounding streets.

I find exercising, exorcises the demons…it can give you a rush of feel good energy, even when you don’t think you have the energy to do anything.  It helps when you do have to battle a case of the doldrums or find peace when having a hard day.  Its self preservation, and it works…for me anyway.

My gorgeous friend Vicki gave me this beautiful chunky silver bracelet. I love it!   It’s from New Zealand and each emblem represents something special.   One of the charms is called a Koru, its spiral shape symbolizes life, growth and peace….it reminded me of the changing journey of grief……

And I find when things get me down and overwhelm me, I find processing my thoughts, and tears….helps me to move forward…knowing that “this too will pass.”   I know taking responsibility for things I can control, like my attitude help to overcome the Debbie downer moments when I feel exposed because of grief.

Saturday night, watching the movie 7 Pounds, made me confront some of my sorrow that lies just under the surface.  I wished it was my little girl who could’ve been given some miracle cure like the people in the movie.  But wishes don’t wash dishes….or strip beds…..or teach my daughter that you have to love your life….hard days and all.  That they make the happy days all that more sweeter.

After the movie, before bed, I sat outside, immersed in the magic of the full moon, crying.  The movie was sad and made me think about Savannah....however, after my tears dried I felt like I'd been cleansed…..I knew that the next day, I would notice how blue the sky is….and like Maria out of The Sound of Music, I know, you cry a little then you wait for the sun to come out…it always does!

Growing through grief and a sleep over!

Anxiety  -1. Distress or uneasiness of mind caused by fear of danger or misfortune

            - 2. Earnest but tense desire; eagerness

Both the above definitions of anxiety describe my feelings this week about upcoming events.  I'm eager and excited however also uneasy of the unknown the next few days will bring.

After experiencing my grief, or complicated grief, the feeling is legitimate.   I’m not a robot that I can program by punching a few buttons to stop the adrenaline from pumping through my veins.....even though I wish I had a metal heart some days....

There are two reasons why this anxiety has reared its ugly head this week;

1.    Dempsey has been invited to her first sleepover at her BFF’s house this Sunday – and of course I have this neurotic feeling of something happening to her…or that she’ll miss me and want to come home at some ungodly hour.(which I doubt) :)

 My rampant imagination of ‘worst case scenarios’ has been churning over and over.  The sense that I won't be in control of her fate to a certain degree.  But I’m sure she’ll be safe and enjoy sitting up late, giggling with her pajama clad BFF until all hours…it’s her mother that won’t be get any sleep I’m sure! :)

2. We have visitors arriving from Australia tomorrow, which I’m soooo excited about.   My BFF from high school, her husband and two children should be here by mid afternoon.  I haven't seen her in over thirteen years..... 

But you see her daughter is the same age as Savannah, 12!   And even though I’m thrilled and eager to meet her daughter, I’m terrified of how I’ll react…whether I’ll burst into tears and embarrass us all, or get to know her to a point of wanting to keep her….or finding out just how unfair it really is that I don’t have my 12 year old with me. I also know I’ll enjoy imagining…..just for a little while…….

One thing I do know is when these feelings hit I go into survival mode. I find coping mechanisms. I do whatever I need to do…and one of those things is D I S T R A C T I O N!!

So Sunday morning, feeling suffocated, I suggested to Peter we journey out for the day to the luxurious South Coast Plaza.

The stores are all high end, extremely up market…like ones that you’d see on Rodeo Drive…and nothing resembling anything in our neighborhood. So it was quite a diversion for the day.

Dempsey and I stood with our noses squashed up to the glass of the famous French jeweler Cartier…and fantasized which diamond sparkled the most….while Peter sat on a nearby bench like a pimp, not showing the slightest bit of interest in purchasing me a diamond! :)

love love love this crystal chandelier...at a mere $8,000 PD said, um "No Dee!" :)

We perused the many home ware stores, with Dempsey whining the whole time with a poker face….”When are we going to the kids stores Mummy? This is soooo boring looking at these lights!”

On level two Dempsey spied this huge bunch of colorful balloons for sale. They provoked a loud “Wow! Look!” from both Dempsey and me…..talk about coloring your world with a smile!

We stopped for lunch at the famous Rainforest Café, where the life like jungle animals spring to life every five minutes. The elephants raise their trunks and trumpet at the diner’s. And the gorillas pound their chests and scream “Ooo ooo ooo, aaa aaa aaa”….managing to distract my thoughts and ferry me away to a jungle somewhere in South America…all while devouring a delicious juicy hamburger!

After a couple of hours of suspending my stresses, we’d had enough of looking at stores we can only dream about…it was time to head home. We made one last stop at the toy store…which Dempsey sprinted into.

And there inside a glass cabinet I found some old fashioned toys…this robot in particular! I had one just like him when I was a little girl. And it was like there in front of me was a subtle reminder of what I’d been trying to escape…he made me smile!

As I stood looking at this happy piece of metal it hit me that I can’t run away anywhere to avoid these anxious feelings...I have to tackle them head on.  They'll still be there when I’m alone.

But the little robot reminded me that like him, I can function on my own and will.  That by challenging myself to face my fears, growth and strength is generated.   And that growth will empower me to face and work through any future  anxieties my grief creates.

Friday is Dempsey’s birthday which will fill my anxious cup with sunshine….and tomorrow, I’ll hug Vicki’s daughter Bonnie, pop the cork on a bottle of bubbly and let loose my anxieties.  I’ll reminisce and laugh over some old memories with Vicki. 

And on Sunday, Dempsey will create some new memories through the exciting new experience of a sleep over.  But I’ll still miss my good-night kiss!  I wonder if her BFF’s mum will mind if I call around bedtime……:)

The drips of grief like a leaking tap!

The last two weeks our home has been like one of those revolving doors at a posh hotel, that seem to go round and round and round!


We’ve had visitors from Japan and Australia staying with us. And it seems as one zips up their case and lugs it to our door, there is another friend arriving with a fresh case of clothes and hello hugs. It’s been fun……exhausting, but fun to have our house filled with friends. And it’s taken my mind off the fact that it’s only 16 more days until Savannah’s twelfth birthday.

One of our visitors from Oz...Trishie with Savannah...she was like her second Mum.

Demps at 5 with Trishie...
  

                                        Demps 4 years on in the same spot..Dempsey calls her "Mummy Trishie!"


                                                                                     
I’ve had the usual longing for Savannah since our visitors departed, however while they were here it’s been like a respite not to have my thoughts consumed with her upcoming special day.


Dempsey as usual, has lightened my mood and made me thankful. She had her last day of third grade on Thursday. And as I stopped the car at her school, all I seemed to see was 6th graders laughing, dressed in pretty dresses, walking through the school gate under a bunch of billowing green and gold foil balloons. And I thought of our angel Savannah, how it’d be her last day of Elementary school. How she’d be graduating…..

I wondered what sort of dress she would’ve chosen, and how proud I’d be to watch her mark such a massive milestone. And just like that, the drops of grief started dripping like a leaking tap. But not for long as Dempsey’s infectious enthusiasm at finishing her last day…along with straight A’s snapped me back to the present.  

After school I took Dempsey and her BFF Marlee to our local outdoor mall and watched them giggle and run through the fountains that shoot out water like magic, in tune with loud music. Sitting on the mall bench, waiting for the other mums, I found myself grinning. Grateful for Demps and her happy spirit!  Alive... dancing silly moves, dodging the water, oblivious to any self consciousness....

Yesterday, Peter and I sat anxiously on uncomfortable wooden chairs, amongst rows of other Mums and Dads as we listened to Dempsey perform at her first ever piano recital! She hit every note perfectly……and of course I applauded louder than any other parent in the room! :)

I think after surviving grief your joy is so much more intense…the small moments so much sweeter than before. And at the end of the concert, Dempsey proudly accepted her first certificate from her Russian teacher to say she’s passed level one of piano…..beaming at Peter and I and finishing the day with an eager beaver bow!

Dempsey with her Piano Certificate...and me, proud Mamma! :)

However, yesterday afternoon, high on life after the concert, we headed to a friends birthday party. Sitting at the kitchen table, with a few other mums, the conversation turned to a few deaths that have hit our community. One was the death of a jogger, who left behind two children, the other, a teen suicide. I was heartbroken to hear of these families and what they must be dealing with because of their loss…their pain fresh and intense……

But, as I listened to one of the mums keep saying over and over “How sad!” and “Gee, that’s so tragic” I began to feel weird, the comments hit a nerve. I felt like a freak, and I wondered why they didn’t mention my losses. It was like there was a huge elephant in the room, namely me, the mother of a dead child, who DID have an idea what it felt like for both the mother of the girl and also how the husband and children of the jogger have just had their lives ripped apart!

And the more the girls chatted, the more my destructive self pity seemed to grab hold. I sat there jiggling my leg under the table, wanting to escape. And I kept telling myself to “Stop it Dee!” But I couldn’t, I felt hurt that no-one acknowledged Savannah! And just as I was about to make a run for it, out to the naive men outside around the BBQ, my gorgeous friend Mary must’ve sensed my awkwardness. She smiled at me and said, “It’s Savannah’s birthday in a few weeks isn’t it Dee? June 30 right? I imagine the next few weeks will be hard on you guys.” My eyes started to blink quicker and quicker, to hold my tears… “Yes, it is Mary, thanks for thinking of Savannah.” I said. And there it was – acknowledgement that someone understood that all the chit chat about children and death is still difficult. It always will be. But I appreciated the invisible rope Mary threw me, her compassion…….


And unlike a dripping tap that can fixed, I can’t call a plumber to stop the constant drip of tears or grief that I know are just simmering under the surface in the next few weeks. But I’ll try and stay busy…..and try not to have a pity party, however I know if I do slip, it’s ok. It’s normal. And that’s something I didn’t understand before.

I also know this afternoon we have a fresh family of Aussies about to invade our four walls. I’ll be at the door to welcome them tonight with a smile, knowing that the noise their two boys and Dempsey will deafen us with will sidetrack the drips and the pangs of pain. They’ll be a welcome distraction...they'll help put sunshine in my blue cup…and plug up the drips....for now anyway! :)