Honoring those awkward moments!

Today's post is for Crystal and her beautiful butterfly Taylor....I was thinking of you Crystal while listening yesterday x


Are you ever offered a box of chocolates and asked to choose one without knowing what you'll get? You pick one and you think you know what to expect, but when you taste it, it's not what you thought it would be.  Yesterday, I had one of those days......where I went out anticipating something, however got something entirely different.  But then that's my life these days. 

I had one of those days where my grief appeared suddenly, like an intruder, stealing my emotions away and there was nothing I could do about it except to let it happen.

Dempsey was invited to a friends house for a musical play date. I was looking forward to the lunch that was going to be provided as I knew there'd be cake and cookies and a catch up with some other moms.

                                                 The Girly Girls live in Concert - August 5 @11:30
                                                                Come for a musical play date
                                                              Bring your best rock star moves


We wandered into her friends house which had been turned into a stage, with a big black curtain backdrop, five microphones set up on stands, flashing disco lights, drums, guitars, tambourines and a video on a tripod to capture all the fun stuff. The whole room was beamed live onto a huge flat screen TV in the middle of the room. Wow, I couldn't wait to get lost in the magic five little girls would create with all this 'stuff.'


What I didn't know is that feelings of longing for Savannah would hit me! You see one of the mother's had her older daughter with her....amazingly enough, one who played with Savannah at a mommy and me group way back when Savannah was two and healthy......and it just so happened it was this girls eleventh birthday the day before.

Now I know it wasn't this mom's fault, or the girls, it's my demons that invade me, not their problem.  But it's a problem of mine that won't go away. I wonder if it ever will?  And I try not to allow my mind to go 'there.' To that place where I wish it was my daughter standing beside me, beautiful and alive!

The other mom's made of fuss of this eleven year old, and rightly so, it was her birthday!  But I couldn't get past how cutting it was to me and how I felt picked on by life that Savannah wasn't there. It was all too close to the bone for me and I felt trapped. I could feel the unwanted feelings start, I had to walk away, escape, but I could still hear their chatter.......there was no escape!

And then the host of the party picked up a guitar and started strumming....music filled the air and blocked out the conversation I was trying to avoid. Oh how grateful I felt, phew, I'd dodged a bullet.....one that was aimed directly at my heart.

All the girls stood patiently in front of their instruments waiting, with great big grins and enthusiasm, watching themselves on the big screen in front of them....I had to smile!  But, wait, oh no, the song, the song, I was back to where I had been a few minutes before.....my throat clenched up and my eyes swelled with burning tears as I couldn't escape the song!

It was the Miley Cyrus song "Butterfly...Fly Away," nothing was going to rescue me now!





                                    PLAY ME!

Five little voices filled the air.....it was magical and painful, beautiful and overwhelming!

What I wasn't expecting was that my grief would blindside me and I would feel trapped, awkward and embarrassed at something I simply couldn't help.  I wanted to run and hide.....and it made me question "How should someone act when these moments hit? Was it appropriate of me to be crying at a happy occasion?" But I couldn't help it ....my shadow of grief that follows me everywhere is sometimes in control and I knew I just had to suck it up, swallow my tears and try to pretend it hadn't happened....hoping no-one else had noticed!  And I thought I'd got away with it. 

I was rescued by my friend Sandra and her infectious laughter at the girls trying to be 'rockstars.'  I inconspicuously wiped away the tears that were threatening to burst out of my eyes and took a big breathe as I got my grief under control!  Thankfully, the moment had passed.

I enjoyed the next few hours sitting at the kitchen counter, with pizza, brownies and indulgent freshly baked, warm, macadamia cookies...and laughter, the best medicine of all. 

Then, when I thought I had camouflaged my sadness, the host of the party hooked up the video of the girls to the TV in the kitchen.  And there it was...me, captured on film forever, probably spoiling their home video, wiping my tears away and looking sad in the background of the happy moment he'd filmed!

Oh no, I wished a big black hole would appear and swallow me up...that I could yell, Stop, Rewind, Erase!  However, I sat there saying nothing, cringing and hoping that nobody else had noticed.  It was weird....sad, watching myself, but there it was, unavoidable, on a huge flat screen TV for everyone to witness.  A moment in the life of a grieving mother!

If anyone else noticed, they didn't say, which I appreciated.  I know I have to honor these moments.  It's who I am now.  And I know that the other people in the room are great people that appear to accept me for me, battle scars and all. 

It confirms to me again, that friends, good times and laughter....and tears, are part of this big ball of life we all bounce along with.  That we have to take the sad moments with the happy ones that can suspend these difficult unavoidable times.  To embrace them, and be thankful for what the gift of grief sometimes brings....a jolt back into feeling appreciative for what you do have....which for me yesterday was a reward of being entertained by five little girls having fun, singing out of tune and filling my blue cup with sunshine!

I hope I'm invited back! :)

"Oh the Places You'll Go!

I've been thinking about the people who are reading my blog....I wonder who you are and what battle you are fighting, and whether your are winning your fight with grief or some other challenge in life.

I've had over 3,646 hits so far....which I find amazing, THANK YOU to all of you who are reading and supporting me, I hope my blog helps.  I also find it sad, but not surprising, that there are so many others like me who are travelling the same journey of grief or some sort of struggle.   It makes me wonder what other things I'll have to face in the future.........and that brings me to last night and the book Dempsey and I read, it was so symbolic to me.......also, to anyone travelling this unknown, crazy ride called life so I wanted to share.........

Every night, before Dempsey goes to bed we read three books on our sofa.  We cuddle up and I love listening to her comments and laughter at some of the stories...."David gets in trouble" is a favorite and she always laughs and points at the part where he forgets his undies!  She tries to con me into four books, but we settle on three.  I usually have to sift through an obstacle course of TV or Wii remotes, or a Pokemon toy as we squeeze together on a cushion, open a book and enjoy some simple time together.  I cherish these moments because I know in a few years she'll possibly grow out of this, so I make sure I relish in every second.

Anyway, last night we read the book "Oh the places you'll go," by Dr. Seuss.  A simple childrens book!  As I turned each page, the words had so much meaning, so much significance to me.....about the ebb and flow of life, the highs and lows, good and bad times we experience along the way.

And after suffering my tragedies, I know that life really is a lucky (or unlucky) dip, like when you were a child at a fair or a fete, and you are excited to reach into a barrel of prizes and pull out a brown paper bag where you hope you've chosen something you want.  And sometimes you get something totally unexpected, however, sometimes you are surprised and you learn to love and appreciate what you've been given.

Yes, random things happen that are out of our control, like losing a loved one.  However, we do have the power to choose our attitude and appreciation for what we do have in life.  And over time you do begin to realize that you can get through any hardship you meet along your journey.....and find within you a strength you didn't know existed.

"Oh the places you'll go" is about life lessons, and how challenges can be overcome.......even when times are tough and you can't see past your sorrow and tears and frustration and how finally you'll come to a place where you feel you can move mountains with determination and support.

 And I think that's one gift grief does give you....the ability to know that anything is possible and that you have to accept that life isn't a dress rehearsal.....to hurry up and do the things you want to do, follow your dreams and try new things.  And this has helped me grow into a new person, almost like I've shed my old shell and become someone else....and I have, at the expense of travelling to places I never dreamed of.  But it has made me a better person, even if it has come at the highest price.

So go out and borrow or buy "Oh the places you'll go!"  Put it away somewhere, and when you have a hard day or start to see light at the end of your tunnel, read Dr. Seuss's words and know that one day, maybe not today, but one day in the not too distant future you will have sunshine again in your blue cup and that you can conquer any mountain!  That you will grow and realize that life is a mosaic of colors and experiences that over time will mould you and teach you that success in life sometimes means simply being able to survive adversity and smile again!

PS;  Believe it or not.....as I was outside taking the above photos a fluffy white feather floated down from the sky....I grabbed my camera and took this photo.....I like to believe its a sign from one of my loved ones today!

"Friends"

Dempsey with two of her best friends....my sister's twins Emerald and Charlotte.....Dempsey's cousins who adore her :)

You have been my friend. That in itself is a tremendous thing. "Charlotte from Charlotte's Web"


So I'm sitting here with my laptop on my lap :)  I feel an overwhelming sense of being loved today! 

Friends, what does that word conjure up for you?  I looked it up in my online dictionary what the definition of a friend is...this is what they say:  a person attached to another by feelings of affection or personal regard.

What is a friend to you?  A friend to me is someone who is there for you 24/7, sometimes they just listen, or embrace you in a hug, make you laugh, or cry, and sometimes they offer advice, whether it be good or bad......and sometimes, they provide you with all you need to get through a day!

After Savannah died, I lost alot of 'friends', I think my grief and loss was too hard for some.  Before my daugther died, I was one of those girlfriends that you wanted to have around, when times were good and I would dance on an occasional table or be funny, ....but then the times set in when I needed a bit more than just laughter and light heartedness.....when I needed someone to ask three little words!  "How are you?"  Just a few words but so powerful and meaningful to someone who has lost their way.

My Dad has always said to me that you are very lucky if you can count your true friends on one hand!  I feel very lucky!  Now, today, I'm fortunate to have such very very special friends, who have become a lifeline, even when they don't know it.  They make me laugh out loud sometimes, and sometimes they fill me with such an overwhelming sense of grattitude at how lucky I am...it really is a physical feeling that causes a warm feeling in my soul.

Anyone going through a loss or challenge needs to surrounds themselves with true friends, energy givers I call them!  I've got rid of all my energy suckers, people that were in my life for the wrong reasons and who sucked the energy out of me....somedays when I had none.

So now I tell all those who help me survive, who put light in my life how important they are to me......maybe one day they'll need my ear to listen.  I'll feel so blessed to have been able to have helped them the way they have me!

On my blue days I know I have a handful of people that I can turn to who will make me feel better, make me feel loved and fill my blue cup with sunshine!  I hope you do to! :) x

PS; just as I hit the post button to publish this....a downy white feather floated down from the sky and landed a few feet away from me, my neighbor Renee who has just lost her cousin was with me...so we were fighting over who the feather was for :) ....they say feathers are a sign from a loved one in heaven(which I'll write about in another blog)....I can only imagine its one of my loved ones letting me know they are thinking of me :)

Savannah - Our angeL - Her Story

Savananh was born on a cold winter day in Sydney Australia, surrounded by love.  I don't think I've ever been happier than I was in that moment.  Here was this tiny bundle, a daughter, all I'd ever dreamed of, placed in my arms, a gift!  The night she was born I didn't want to go to sleep.  I just wanted to have her next to me and look at her!  June 30, 1999, everything was perfect in my world!

Fast forward to March 2002.

 

I was 14 weeks pregnant with our second child.  My husband Peter and I had moved from country Australia to the fast paced Los Angeles for Peter's work.  My days were filled with watching Savannah draw, devour books, swim and her favorite, collect pine cones in a little red wagon she would pull along behind her.  Somedays, I had to pinch myself at how lucky I was.  However, around this time my happy world was to be shattered....if I had've had a crystal ball back then I wouldn't have believed what was about to happen to my "perfect" little family.....my baby, my world..Savannah!

I had noticed Savannah's right eye appreared to have turned in towards her nose and her walking seemed to be getting a little on the wobbly side.  After visiting countless doctors, who assured us all she would need was a small operation to correct the turned eye, we met with one who was about to change everything!

The doctor at the L.A Childrens Hospital ordered an MRI immediately.  I wasn't concerned at all, it was just a precaution she told us.  I've had three phone calls in my life that have changed me, this one would change my life, my world, and everybody around me, forever.

 At four a.m. the morning after Savannah's MRI, I woke to the soothing sound of the shower running, reminding me that Peter would be leaving early, for work in Atlanta. With an hour or more for sleep, before he’d go, hard as I tried, my anxious mind wouldn’t let me back into my dreams. I couldn’t wait to call the doctor and get the MRI test results. At nine a.m., before I had the courage to call, the phone rang.

“The good news is there is no tumor in Savannah's brain,” Dr. Buffen said.


“Oh, Thank God!” I mumbled, slumping into the nearest chair.


“But,” she went on, “there are some changes in the white matter of Savannah’s brain.”


“What does that mean?” I asked, while shaking my head in adamant denial of whatever she would say.


“I’m not quite sure,” she continued, “but I don’t think there should be any changes. I’ll check with the radiologist and call you back.”

Not too alarmed yet, I really wanted my Mom at that point, so I called her in Australia, telling her the findings. Her always-positive attitude usually made me feel better straight away and sure enough, she pointed out that Savannah was an active little two year old, certainly not a sick one. Like me, she couldn’t imagine there was anything too seriously wrong and encouraged me to not worry and just wait for the doctor’s next call. At mid-afternoon, misplaced hope faded, when the call came in.....

Savannah was engrossed in the TV then, watching “Winnie the Pooh.” I was standing on a chair in the kitchen, scrubbing out the cupboards, trying to keep at least my body occupied, while I awaited the doctor’s next phone call. The telephone rang and I raced to answer it. Dr. Buffen had spoken with the radiologist. What she said next was devastating--worse than even my rampant imagination had come up with.

“This is very, very serious,” she said. “You and your husband need to come in to Los Angeles Children’s Hospital tomorrow, to discuss the findings of Savannah’s MRI.”


I could hear my heart thumping, as I asked her what they’d found. I could hardly breathe, barely got the words out.


“Savannah appears to have some form of leukodystrophy, a genetic condition which affects the white matter of her brain.”


I wrote the word down. Such a foreign and ugly word to have anything to do with our beautiful, precious child! I could hardly pronounce it, let alone spell it. I had the doctor spell it out for me, so I could look it up and not mistake it for anything else. Her next sentence was the worst blow of all.


“In most cases the condition is fatal.”

There was that awful word--“fatal”! I could not comprehend that one. Mind and body were reeling, could not cope with the implications of that word. I kept repeating over and over, that there must have been a mistake. Some mix-up of her test results. By then, I was too afraid to breathe, to think, or speak another word. Anything I said would have to only make things worse, I thought, so better to keep quiet and let the doctor apologize for their mistake. Which of course, it wasn’t.

After I’d said goodbye, my hands were shaking so hard, I almost couldn’t type the ugly “l” word into the computer’s search engine. And, as bad as I already thought things were, I was totally unprepared for what I was about to learn. When I saw what came up, my heart dropped into the pit of my stomach. What I couldn’t avoid reading was that there are at least thirty-seven forms of leukodystrophy. With each line I read, more tears poured out, threatening to drown the keyboard. Savannah was right by my side, still in her flannel jammies, and I stared at her, shaking my head in stubborn disbelief. How could this be happening to our beautiful little girl? It had to be wrong! There had to have been a mistake.

The first form I read about was called MLD--metachromatic leukodystrophy. The entry described how patients would lose all of their physical abilities, one by one, becoming bedridden, unable to speak and eat, with blindness following. Seizures and paralysis would then occur, with death the certain outcome, within three to five years after onset. It was too shocking for me to grasp, but one symptom described was an unsteady gait, which I swear made my heart stop. I didn’t want to believe I’d read that, but deep down I knew that article was describing my little girl and what she’d been doomed to, by some disgustingly unfair fate. At that moment, I knew the doctor was going to be right. I had to call Peter.

My fingers barely working, I tried to phone Peter who was in Atlanta, a half-day’s flight away. Once I heard his voice, my sobbing was unstoppable. I’m sure I was totally incoherent, trying to repeat what the doctor had told me. Peter was speechless. Like me, he was not prepared for such unbearable news.

“We’ll see Dee, maybe it’s a mistake,” he said, trying to believe that.

And so began our journey of hope........................