.
I’ve been surfing the web from Oz, checking in on my favorite blogs today. Most of them are from USA and almost all of them are talking about Thanksgiving and being thankful! I’m not an American, although I do feel a special affiliation with the Land of Liberty.
It’s been our home for the past ten years, and a lot happened during those years. Savannah spent her last months there….and Dempsey has blossomed into our precious girl in the days spent on their shores. So yes, America has been our glue some days, super glue,……that helped hold us together as a family, provided compassionate doctors and nurses we leaned on, and friends that were and will always be a huge factor in surviving my grief. And when we did come unstuck, it was the people that were with us, in the grand ol US of A that were like thick mortar, keeping us cemented through some of the hardest days I’ve faced.
I’ll always feel like an adopted daughter of America….even though we don’t celebrate Thanksgiving here in Australia. I can’t relate to how special a day on the calendar it is to Americans! I can however, relate to how some people would’ve felt yesterday with empty chairs at their table that should’ve been filled with loved ones who have died.
We did enjoy one Thanksgiving while Savannah was sick. Peter bought a fresh turkey and I spent most of the morning standing at the sink, peeling potatoes and carrots to roast. Dempsey was only sixteen months old and we didn’t know it then, but Savannah only had two months left with us. That Thanksgiving Day threw us a curve ball though, with me clumsily tripping over Peter’s tool box with Ugg boots on….breaking my right leg in three places!
Needless to say, the turkey went uneaten and I spent the rest of the day in the ER, trying to escape back home to Savannah who was on hourly med’s and didn’t understand why some burly men in paramedic uniforms had kidnapped her Mummy on a steel gurney.
Savannah a few weeks before she died...I still had my plaster cast on....
However, camouflaged in the heavy plaster cast that stretched from my toes to my thigh, was a blessing that I couldn’t see that day…….
A friend pointed out that ‘maybe’ the Universe had other plans for me – that I was meant to be incapacitated and the broken leg wasn’t really an obstacle after all but a gift…..and as hard as it was to realize back then, everything 'sometimes' does happen for a reason! You see, I couldn’t move, couldn’t leave the house for weeks, couldn’t do anything but lie next to Savannah on her hospital bed or on our couch beside her. It turned out to be a very very special time during those final days of her short life. A coincidence?? I believe there’s no such thing.
For those last seven weeks I got to spend nothing but time with her….because of my broken leg. ….so when I think of Thanksgiving, I don’t think of turkeys and steaming sweet apple pies, but of that special gift of precious time with our daughter. We never thought she would almost not survive Christmas with us that year.
Yesterday I did think of others, of some families I know who would’ve been suffering, of a sweet teenager in Spain who is missing her Mom and of the many people who’ve visited here trying to find comfort on their journey of grief……….
My sister's twins Emerald, Charlotte, Demps and me tonight!
Today, I’m thankful for the little things….like my sister’s twins who are having a sleep over with us tonight, wrapped up in their jammies…..thankfully they are alive! I’m thankful for the succulent roast lamb dinner we devoured tonight…..when there are so many people starving. For the rain that pounded our roof a few hours ago, providing much needed water to the local dairy farms…..and for some memories that will always be mine, of a Thanksgiving we had with our girl, a broken leg and the precious gift of time we should all be conscious of and thankful for!
Our roast lamb dinner tonight I'm thankful for!
The heavy shower of rain we got today!
Happy belated Thanksgiving...there's so so much to be thankful for! x
.
Saturday, November 27, 2010
Monday, November 22, 2010
LOVE is actually all around....in Oz! :)
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Yes, we do have internet in Australia…despite being ‘down under’ and in the ‘outback’ as some people may think. :) I’ve just been too busy to blog. Too busy with visitors that uplift my spirits and loving time from my family and friends….I’m in a bliss bubble at the moment, an effervescence pool of love!
It’s funny, before we left L.A I watched an old movie called “Love Actually.” During the opening scenes, Hugh Grant states – “Whenever I get gloomy with the state of the world, I think about the arrivals gate at Heathrow Airport. It seems to me that love is everywhere. Often, it's not particularly dignified or newsworthy, but it's always there - fathers and sons, mothers and daughters, husbands and wives, boyfriends, girlfriends, old friends. When the planes hit the Twin Towers, as far as I know, none of the phone calls from the people on board were messages of hate or revenge - they were all messages of love. If you look for it, I've got a sneaking suspicion... love actually is all around.”
It’s true; you can see unconditional love at an arrivals gate of an airport. After clearing customs, as we walked exhaustedly through the exit of our terminal at Melbourne Airport, in wrinkled clothing, with our baggage carts piled high with luggage, and Dempsey dragging her suitcase, Savannah's ashes safely in my bag.....I made a mental note to look around and watch strangers that were greeting their loved ones.
There were two little blonde girls, with a bright colorful sign with red crayon colored hearts for their father “Welcome Home Daddy” it said. They stood at the end of the barrier with grins and anticipation on their faces, checking each time the door slid open to see if their dad was next. There were two women hugging and crying, really hugging….I wondered what their tears were for? I noticed a young couple kissing, arms entwined, lost in each other. These were just a few travelers and their waiting loved ones I had the privilege of witnessing. The scene made me reflect on the power of love…….
There was no one there to greet us, just the warm Aussie sunshine, fresh air, and an empty rental car….and home, we are home! It is such an overwhelming feeling of thankfulness, a warm feeling that generates energy....a haven. I luxuriate in love, like a warm bubble bath............it’s difficult to describe in words.
The daisy's in bloom in our front yard
Peter stacked our car full of luggage. Dempsey was almost buried in the back seat, swamped by suitcases. But, she didn’t complain for the two hour trip south to our home away from home. And when we got there, to our little cottage, with the high cream picket fence and daisy’s blooming in the front yard, it was my time….my time to be hugged and showered with love from my family.
My first baby Oscar....we got him in 1995, funny, he's survived everything!
And I got my present, hugs from my dear Dad, Brenda, Tone and my sister’s four children. Even my fat old fluffy Persian cat Oscar was there to greet us. Dempsey and my sisters girls raided the dress up box.....and the boys had so much to say!
Yes, love is all around..…and it feels wonderful and warm, indulgent and powerful…..like I can do anything because of it.
Demps, Emerald, Charlotte and me playing dress ups!
The kids, oh the kids, they’ve grown so much, but the love is still there, an absolute bond that has been created that I don’t think will ever be broken through what we’ve all been through……..
The night we got home I lay my head on my pillow, the sheets cold and crisp and smelling of sunshine from the outside clothes line. I fell asleep with a smile….love is actually all around! Maybe you can get your fix from family, or friends…or strangers? And if you can soak it up, it reminds you life really is a wonderful thing.
When I woke the next morning, there were magpies (a native Australian bird) gargling their early morning song outside my window, reminding me I was back in Oz…..yes, with all the challenging emotions I know I will face while I’m here….I’ve been give fuel through love to weather anything. :)
Sending warm Aussie sunshine to fill your cup if it's blue! x
.
Yes, we do have internet in Australia…despite being ‘down under’ and in the ‘outback’ as some people may think. :) I’ve just been too busy to blog. Too busy with visitors that uplift my spirits and loving time from my family and friends….I’m in a bliss bubble at the moment, an effervescence pool of love!
It’s funny, before we left L.A I watched an old movie called “Love Actually.” During the opening scenes, Hugh Grant states – “Whenever I get gloomy with the state of the world, I think about the arrivals gate at Heathrow Airport. It seems to me that love is everywhere. Often, it's not particularly dignified or newsworthy, but it's always there - fathers and sons, mothers and daughters, husbands and wives, boyfriends, girlfriends, old friends. When the planes hit the Twin Towers, as far as I know, none of the phone calls from the people on board were messages of hate or revenge - they were all messages of love. If you look for it, I've got a sneaking suspicion... love actually is all around.”
It’s true; you can see unconditional love at an arrivals gate of an airport. After clearing customs, as we walked exhaustedly through the exit of our terminal at Melbourne Airport, in wrinkled clothing, with our baggage carts piled high with luggage, and Dempsey dragging her suitcase, Savannah's ashes safely in my bag.....I made a mental note to look around and watch strangers that were greeting their loved ones.
There were two little blonde girls, with a bright colorful sign with red crayon colored hearts for their father “Welcome Home Daddy” it said. They stood at the end of the barrier with grins and anticipation on their faces, checking each time the door slid open to see if their dad was next. There were two women hugging and crying, really hugging….I wondered what their tears were for? I noticed a young couple kissing, arms entwined, lost in each other. These were just a few travelers and their waiting loved ones I had the privilege of witnessing. The scene made me reflect on the power of love…….
There was no one there to greet us, just the warm Aussie sunshine, fresh air, and an empty rental car….and home, we are home! It is such an overwhelming feeling of thankfulness, a warm feeling that generates energy....a haven. I luxuriate in love, like a warm bubble bath............it’s difficult to describe in words.
The daisy's in bloom in our front yard
Peter stacked our car full of luggage. Dempsey was almost buried in the back seat, swamped by suitcases. But, she didn’t complain for the two hour trip south to our home away from home. And when we got there, to our little cottage, with the high cream picket fence and daisy’s blooming in the front yard, it was my time….my time to be hugged and showered with love from my family.
My first baby Oscar....we got him in 1995, funny, he's survived everything!
And I got my present, hugs from my dear Dad, Brenda, Tone and my sister’s four children. Even my fat old fluffy Persian cat Oscar was there to greet us. Dempsey and my sisters girls raided the dress up box.....and the boys had so much to say!
Yes, love is all around..…and it feels wonderful and warm, indulgent and powerful…..like I can do anything because of it.
Demps, Emerald, Charlotte and me playing dress ups!
The kids, oh the kids, they’ve grown so much, but the love is still there, an absolute bond that has been created that I don’t think will ever be broken through what we’ve all been through……..
The night we got home I lay my head on my pillow, the sheets cold and crisp and smelling of sunshine from the outside clothes line. I fell asleep with a smile….love is actually all around! Maybe you can get your fix from family, or friends…or strangers? And if you can soak it up, it reminds you life really is a wonderful thing.
When I woke the next morning, there were magpies (a native Australian bird) gargling their early morning song outside my window, reminding me I was back in Oz…..yes, with all the challenging emotions I know I will face while I’m here….I’ve been give fuel through love to weather anything. :)
Sending warm Aussie sunshine to fill your cup if it's blue! x
.
Tuesday, November 9, 2010
"Sunshine all the way!" :)
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Sunshine all the way………………
That’s the forecast for our home town in Australia, and my mood! :)
Tomorrow night we board the gigantic jumbo jet that will ferry us from one side of the earth to the other…home, to Australia….to my Dad, my brother- in-law, my nephews, nieces and some very very special energy givers whom I don’t just call friends, but family…the family I’ve chosen for me!
It’s always a mixed mash of emotions when I leave the USA. Dempsey doesn’t want to leave her friends, but is excited about being able to create magical fairy gardens in our enormous back yard and indulge in late night sleep overs with my sister’s twins, Emerald and Charlotte. I love it too because I get a chance to tell them stories about their mum (my sister) when we were growing up.
Me with Dempsey and my beautiful nieces Emerald and Charlotte in OZ! :)
I always feel a tangle of emotions as I close our door, hit the light switch and take one last peek inside our home in America. I always feel I’m leaving Savannah’s spirit behind….she took her last breath in our lounge room and I always feel I’m deserting her when we leave…..weird I know!
She does come with us. I carry her ashes in a royal blue box. Peter carries her death certificate tucked behind our passports, in case we are asked what’s inside the pretty blue box? We’ve only had this happen once amongst the chaos of the customs hall. The official looking officer was very compassionate towards us, which I was thankful for.
I wish Savannah would be sitting next to me on the plane, wrapped in a United blanket, probably listening to an ipod for the fourteen hour slog across the pond. But I can’t leave her behind, her blue box sits safely inside my carry on bag......
My precious carry on luggage...Savannah's ashes
Its confronting to go ‘home'. There’s the house where Mom died….it has a monstrous hedge growing around it, hiding the bedroom window where I said my final goodbyes to her. I do think of her last days there when I drive past. I wish I could drop by like I did and share a cup of tea and her positive warm love and laughter.
I adore Tarnia’s children, I love to throw my arms around them and squeeze them tight……….they usually let go first, except for Fraser.
My nephews and nieces and Demps playing cricket in our yard in Oz...its a tradition now!
However, its always hard that first time I visit her house with little reminders of her around, and no her…. Her antique teacups, with roses on them, that she loved so much are still sitting above the kitchen shelf, where she placed them. And her photo always smiles at me from inside the family room wall. It's heartbreaking to see Tone with the kids, and without my sister…..even though he does such an amazing job raring them on his own. Yes, there’s little reminders everywhere.
And then there’s Dad, how I love my dad….he can be grumpy and fuddy duddy sometimes, but I still feel like his little girl when he wanders up our driveway with his shy smile. His new wife Brenda is loving and I’m grateful for her warm embrace….but she’s not my mom……
My special Dad and his new wife Brenda.
And so yes, it is a mixed bag of emotions to leave our ‘home’ here and travel over the oceans to Oz. But it’s worth it. Every long line up at the airport, security check, whining from Dempsey at how much longer….and the excitement, is all such a reward, my early Christmas present! :)
This year I’ll go to the cemetery and visit my sister’s grave…..its a wake up call to drive out there, to the lush green grass where she lays. There will be more headstones added this year I’m sure, however, they have a way of making me feel alive and grateful…even if I do get sad that things can’t be different.
Think of me tomorrow night, as the big bird takes off into the dark heavens above. You needn’t say a prayer though….I’ll be flying with angels! :)
.
Sunshine all the way………………
That’s the forecast for our home town in Australia, and my mood! :)
Tomorrow night we board the gigantic jumbo jet that will ferry us from one side of the earth to the other…home, to Australia….to my Dad, my brother- in-law, my nephews, nieces and some very very special energy givers whom I don’t just call friends, but family…the family I’ve chosen for me!
It’s always a mixed mash of emotions when I leave the USA. Dempsey doesn’t want to leave her friends, but is excited about being able to create magical fairy gardens in our enormous back yard and indulge in late night sleep overs with my sister’s twins, Emerald and Charlotte. I love it too because I get a chance to tell them stories about their mum (my sister) when we were growing up.
Me with Dempsey and my beautiful nieces Emerald and Charlotte in OZ! :)
I always feel a tangle of emotions as I close our door, hit the light switch and take one last peek inside our home in America. I always feel I’m leaving Savannah’s spirit behind….she took her last breath in our lounge room and I always feel I’m deserting her when we leave…..weird I know!
She does come with us. I carry her ashes in a royal blue box. Peter carries her death certificate tucked behind our passports, in case we are asked what’s inside the pretty blue box? We’ve only had this happen once amongst the chaos of the customs hall. The official looking officer was very compassionate towards us, which I was thankful for.
I wish Savannah would be sitting next to me on the plane, wrapped in a United blanket, probably listening to an ipod for the fourteen hour slog across the pond. But I can’t leave her behind, her blue box sits safely inside my carry on bag......
My precious carry on luggage...Savannah's ashes
Its confronting to go ‘home'. There’s the house where Mom died….it has a monstrous hedge growing around it, hiding the bedroom window where I said my final goodbyes to her. I do think of her last days there when I drive past. I wish I could drop by like I did and share a cup of tea and her positive warm love and laughter.
I adore Tarnia’s children, I love to throw my arms around them and squeeze them tight……….they usually let go first, except for Fraser.
My nephews and nieces and Demps playing cricket in our yard in Oz...its a tradition now!
However, its always hard that first time I visit her house with little reminders of her around, and no her…. Her antique teacups, with roses on them, that she loved so much are still sitting above the kitchen shelf, where she placed them. And her photo always smiles at me from inside the family room wall. It's heartbreaking to see Tone with the kids, and without my sister…..even though he does such an amazing job raring them on his own. Yes, there’s little reminders everywhere.
And then there’s Dad, how I love my dad….he can be grumpy and fuddy duddy sometimes, but I still feel like his little girl when he wanders up our driveway with his shy smile. His new wife Brenda is loving and I’m grateful for her warm embrace….but she’s not my mom……
My special Dad and his new wife Brenda.
And so yes, it is a mixed bag of emotions to leave our ‘home’ here and travel over the oceans to Oz. But it’s worth it. Every long line up at the airport, security check, whining from Dempsey at how much longer….and the excitement, is all such a reward, my early Christmas present! :)
This year I’ll go to the cemetery and visit my sister’s grave…..its a wake up call to drive out there, to the lush green grass where she lays. There will be more headstones added this year I’m sure, however, they have a way of making me feel alive and grateful…even if I do get sad that things can’t be different.
Think of me tomorrow night, as the big bird takes off into the dark heavens above. You needn’t say a prayer though….I’ll be flying with angels! :)
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Thursday, November 4, 2010
The miracle of a little 'HOPE'
I love running. Especially the last two mornings. Its Fall, so the mornings are dark now when I run. The neighborhood is just coming to life. You can see the lights from inside the houses streaming through windows, a few garage doors are rolled up with cars idling inside…waiting for their owners.
At 6.30am this morning, with Rhianna blasting in my ears, compliments of my ipod, it was magical. The moon was in one corner of the sky and the sun was starting to peep up over the horizon in the other. I ran all the way back home to get my camera to snatch a photo of the moon, a crescent. It reminded me of Savannah. Whenever she saw one of those shaped moons she’d point at the sky and say “Look Mommy, the moon is broken!”
The crescent moon in our neighboorhood this morning!
My moon will always be broken because of her death. Even though I’ve managed to stitch part of it up, through love and ‘hope’. However it will always be damaged, a piece forever missing. And it’s when I get to have some alone time, like when I run, I get to think about life and Savannah. It’s healing therapy. (And works off all the chocolate I consumed over Halloween. :))
After Savannah died sometimes I tried to run from my emotions, my demons…..from my life. Some days I pounded the pavement with tears streaming down my face, the haunting thoughts of Savannah’s suffering everyday was horrible. However, this morning as I watched the sun rise on the horizon, I breathed in the cool morning air and thought how every day is a new dawn of hope. And how when Savannah was alive everyday revolved around those four powerful little letters…..‘HOPE!’
Hope and fear go hand in hand I think. If you are scared about a situation that ‘may’ happen you will also have hope. A faith that your fears won’t materialize, and, hope for a solution if they do. How does one foster hope?
In my experience through losing my sister, mom and daughter, I think that hope is a mysterious miraculous thing that we human beings are capable of…..even when times or circumstances are implausible….like when we were told Tarnia had been killed…or that Savannah would die, or that my mom wouldn’t see Christmas with us ever again.
Is hope built into our core, through genetics, from that spontaneous moment you are conceived? Is it learned from your parents….or a loved one? Or is it a wonderful ingreedient mixed into our soul…..deep in our being, that’s invisible…almost like an imaginary armor we have that appears when a situation seems hopeless or desperate. Like magic, it kicks in. Yes, hope gives us the courage to keep believing that the future ‘may’ be brighter or better.
In spite of everything with Savannah, even after we knew we couldn’t save her life, we had hope. Hope for a good day for her, like when we would take her to a park and feed the ducks stale bread. Then we'd place her big blue reclining chair on a slippery slide and watch her gift us with her incredible smile. She’d lost her voice by then, but she’d make happy giggly noises that nourished my soul. I hoped she felt like any other little girl in the park, enjoying the warm sun on her face. Yes, hope is food for our spirit and strengthens our foundations to face sometimes, the impossible.
Savannah in her big blue recliner at our park with her Daddy, feeding the ducks!
Everyone’s hopes are different, it may be something simple like hoping you’ll get that car space at Walmart, or hoping those jeans you haven’t worn since March still fit. Or like like some of us…hope that the tears will stop….just for a day.
What is your hope? Hope for a good day, for laughter? To get through some hours when you think you can’t? Hope for something good to come out of something bad? Hope to stay strong? Hope to live? Hope that life will stay the way it is….or change? Hope that there will be more tomorrows…like today, or not?
My beautiful Dad always says “Life is as clear as mud sometimes!” It throws us all sorts of challenges and rewards, mixed together…like a big mud pie. And when we face some of these 'unknowns' in life, its hope that helps us fight those battles.
At the end of my run this morning, I noticed a beautiful big bird in the sky, with two engines….and a little orange light blinking behind it…..destination unknown. I looked up into the heavens, wishing I was on that plane, flying home to my family, but hoping the next six days fly by until then. :)
I wonder where they are going?
Each day the universe gifts us with another precious day.....filled with the miracles of life......and always, alway, HOPE! x
PS; When Dempsey was born we chose her middle name to be HOPE...it was and continues to be my savior somedays...like Demps! :)
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Wednesday, October 27, 2010
"I am ALIVE!" ........appreicating life!
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Horoscopes are funny things. I always look to see what mine says but often don’t agree with what I read. However the one below, which was in the L.A times on the weekend jumped out at me.

Libra (Sept. 23-Oct. 23): The world you call normal is very different from what another person routinely experiences.
It is true, the world I call normal is different from most of my friends….and I hate that somedays….I am envious sometimes of what others have, their mom, all their siblings and of course their children, all in one piece, complete families…….
It’s helpful to be reminded over and over that there’s others who have suffered loss and rediscovered ‘life’ through grief and survival. Other’s that also trudge through hardship some days, like a lead weight is tied to their heart.
Over the weekend, I watched a documentary on the History Channel which made me realize that what I’ve learnt through my losses has given my life new meaning……..even if it is um different.
I wanted to share what I got out of the program to help any of you reading and searching for help….or hope!
The two hour doco was called “I am ALIVE!” It was about an Argentinian rugby team who survived a plane crash in the remote Andes mountains in 1972.
A photo of the crash site taken by the survivors.....
With forty-five souls on board, the plane plummeted into a snowy mountainside where there was no life. No food. No water. Just the survivors, surrounded by the skeleton of half the plane, death and hopelessness.
After ten days they began to eat the flesh from the deceased bodies, to stay alive…..something I couldn’t even contemplate. But you do what you have to sometimes in order to survive.
During the seventy two days, they were stuck in freezing conditions and watched in horror as others perished from their injuries…..eight more were suffocated from an avalanche until finally, two of the remaining 16 men decided to hike out and try to find help to rescue those remaining……and amazingly they did….and the story gave me goosebumps. I was inspired and fascinated...glued to the T.V.
While engrossed in the show, I realized that the theme and feelings of the survivors are the same for anybody….despair, suffering, lack of hope, resilience, depression…and grief, however, most important of all is how the human spirit through love can overcome….almost anything.
During the interviews with some of these remarkable human beings, are some compelling lessons and pieces of wisdom that I have to agree with. One of the men, Nando Parrado,who walked forty miles over the desolate snow ridden Andes mountains to freedom said while on the mountain, facing death, he reflected on his life and what became important to him…… in his words…..”What simple things we need to be happy and how we demand lot’s more than we need in life!” I found myself nodding my head at the T.V.
We do sometimes get caught up in what we THINK is important, like money or possessions….instead of the little joys in life we often overlook. Things for me like an all encompassing hug from a friend, or when Dempsey tells me with a cheeky smile, “I love you MORE Mommy!” Yes, those things can’t be purchased. The tiny fragments of life and love…..those moments are what helps me realize how lucky I am.
The ocean and Dempsey...two things I love and appreciate in this world!
Nando Parrado’s dearly loved mother and sister were killed in the crash. Months after he got back to civilization he said the experience gave him a different philosophy on life because of what he'd learned through his grief…..“Rather than grieve and completely shut down, why not revel in life. Why not revel in the fact that I survived this. I will take advantage of this life I have to do the things I love rather than not do anything at all." he said.
What an amazing outlook and spirit! It’s people like Nando Parrado and this story of survival that fosters my spirit and strength. Another example of what we, as survivors can do and how you should never give up or give in….sometimes we are rescued by old friends…or new, beloved family members, alive…or not. And sometimes it’s hearing someone else’s story that feeds our will to take what we discover from grief and grow as a person to get to a place where life suddenly means so much more than it did.
I am a survivor, not of a plane crash but of losing loved ones whom I miss everyday. And like these men, every step taken is a step…one step forward or two steps back……it IS a step. And when grieving, that’s what we need to do, take baby steps…….forward and integrate your grief into your new life. You've already chosen survival!
There are signposts along the way to tell you you’re on the right track. Emotions that seem like mountains to climb and navigate through. Brick walls you come up against. Tears and questions you stumble through, but eventually you come to a place of acceptance, like a fork in the road, and your handicap can become an advantage….as in, you understand now how precious life is. And like a seed that sprouts new growth, so will you. One day you will blossom and use what you learned through your journey of survival into appreciation and love of every little thing.
I’d like to leave you with Nando Parrado’s last comment on the show, in a huge beaming smile he said “Life is simpler than it looks, love is the most important thing…love for our families kept us ALIVE!”
The book written about the Andes Miracle
I can’t wait to read the book!
.
Horoscopes are funny things. I always look to see what mine says but often don’t agree with what I read. However the one below, which was in the L.A times on the weekend jumped out at me.
Libra (Sept. 23-Oct. 23): The world you call normal is very different from what another person routinely experiences.
It is true, the world I call normal is different from most of my friends….and I hate that somedays….I am envious sometimes of what others have, their mom, all their siblings and of course their children, all in one piece, complete families…….
It’s helpful to be reminded over and over that there’s others who have suffered loss and rediscovered ‘life’ through grief and survival. Other’s that also trudge through hardship some days, like a lead weight is tied to their heart.
Over the weekend, I watched a documentary on the History Channel which made me realize that what I’ve learnt through my losses has given my life new meaning……..even if it is um different.
I wanted to share what I got out of the program to help any of you reading and searching for help….or hope!
The two hour doco was called “I am ALIVE!” It was about an Argentinian rugby team who survived a plane crash in the remote Andes mountains in 1972.
A photo of the crash site taken by the survivors.....
With forty-five souls on board, the plane plummeted into a snowy mountainside where there was no life. No food. No water. Just the survivors, surrounded by the skeleton of half the plane, death and hopelessness.
After ten days they began to eat the flesh from the deceased bodies, to stay alive…..something I couldn’t even contemplate. But you do what you have to sometimes in order to survive.
During the seventy two days, they were stuck in freezing conditions and watched in horror as others perished from their injuries…..eight more were suffocated from an avalanche until finally, two of the remaining 16 men decided to hike out and try to find help to rescue those remaining……and amazingly they did….and the story gave me goosebumps. I was inspired and fascinated...glued to the T.V.
While engrossed in the show, I realized that the theme and feelings of the survivors are the same for anybody….despair, suffering, lack of hope, resilience, depression…and grief, however, most important of all is how the human spirit through love can overcome….almost anything.
During the interviews with some of these remarkable human beings, are some compelling lessons and pieces of wisdom that I have to agree with. One of the men, Nando Parrado,who walked forty miles over the desolate snow ridden Andes mountains to freedom said while on the mountain, facing death, he reflected on his life and what became important to him…… in his words…..”What simple things we need to be happy and how we demand lot’s more than we need in life!” I found myself nodding my head at the T.V.
We do sometimes get caught up in what we THINK is important, like money or possessions….instead of the little joys in life we often overlook. Things for me like an all encompassing hug from a friend, or when Dempsey tells me with a cheeky smile, “I love you MORE Mommy!” Yes, those things can’t be purchased. The tiny fragments of life and love…..those moments are what helps me realize how lucky I am.
The ocean and Dempsey...two things I love and appreciate in this world!
Nando Parrado’s dearly loved mother and sister were killed in the crash. Months after he got back to civilization he said the experience gave him a different philosophy on life because of what he'd learned through his grief…..“Rather than grieve and completely shut down, why not revel in life. Why not revel in the fact that I survived this. I will take advantage of this life I have to do the things I love rather than not do anything at all." he said.
What an amazing outlook and spirit! It’s people like Nando Parrado and this story of survival that fosters my spirit and strength. Another example of what we, as survivors can do and how you should never give up or give in….sometimes we are rescued by old friends…or new, beloved family members, alive…or not. And sometimes it’s hearing someone else’s story that feeds our will to take what we discover from grief and grow as a person to get to a place where life suddenly means so much more than it did.
I am a survivor, not of a plane crash but of losing loved ones whom I miss everyday. And like these men, every step taken is a step…one step forward or two steps back……it IS a step. And when grieving, that’s what we need to do, take baby steps…….forward and integrate your grief into your new life. You've already chosen survival!
There are signposts along the way to tell you you’re on the right track. Emotions that seem like mountains to climb and navigate through. Brick walls you come up against. Tears and questions you stumble through, but eventually you come to a place of acceptance, like a fork in the road, and your handicap can become an advantage….as in, you understand now how precious life is. And like a seed that sprouts new growth, so will you. One day you will blossom and use what you learned through your journey of survival into appreciation and love of every little thing.
I’d like to leave you with Nando Parrado’s last comment on the show, in a huge beaming smile he said “Life is simpler than it looks, love is the most important thing…love for our families kept us ALIVE!”
The book written about the Andes Miracle
I can’t wait to read the book!
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Thursday, October 21, 2010
Surviving Halloween and the holidays when grieving!
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Yesterday, while driving home from Dempsey’s school, a little voice from the back seat screamed, “Look Mommy!”
It appears as if overnight, the houses in our neighborhood have been transformed into grave yards for Halloween. “Please can we take a look Mommy, PLEASE!” Dempsey begged. We took a small detour and I was amazed at what I saw. (note; We don’t celebrate Halloween in Australia).
Front yards have had extreme makeovers, looking more like something from the ‘Twilight’ movie than suburban dwellings. Lawns have been blanketed with creepy grey headstones, skeletons are hanging from garage doors and fake spider webs float in the breeze. Dempsey loved it!
One of the houses in our neighboorhood, decorated for Halloween
I know it’s all make-believe stuff, however, it does make me wonder how people who are in the thick of their grief must feel when they drive past these haunted houses?
I’m sure it must rattle them as it did me, as it’s a reminder of death. I’m curious if they have to hide their shadow of sadness or if they can see it for what it is? Just a holiday…to some….an excuse to dress up and suffer from another case of a sick stomach from eating too much gooey candy.
As a grieving person, you really are a sitting duck during the holidays. You have to tackle reminders and emotions that you have no choice but to deal with. Things like those headstones and families in high spirits when you might feel down in the dumps……along with memories of past joyful occasions. These threaten to destabilize you and lure you back into a depressed frame of mind. It’s a hard time of year. And it’s normal to feel sad.
Holidays can be tough, you can’t just tick a box, ‘choose’ option number one “Be Happy!” Sometimes the multiple choices can be limited on special days.
I remember Savannah’s first and only Halloween. She only got to enjoy one during her time with us in America. Her nurse Marlene happily provided her with a witches black cloak, a massive hat and straw broom. Demspey was only a baby, but we squeezed her into the cutest orange giraffe outfit.
Our Angel Savannah dressed as a witch
Savannah was so sick, in the terminal stages of her disease, but I still remember the gracious smile on her face as we carefully dressed her frail body in the costume. She was grateful to be just like one of the other kids that knocked on our door that night. I have that one memory…..and I find now memories can bring you comfort at this time of year. Sometimes, that’s all we have……….
The temptation is there, to give in and wallow, and sometimes it can’t be helped. But if you’re ready for it, for the emotions, you can try to embrace the day, or whatever comes with it and not be afraid….
I can try to shift my thoughts, into positive ones, and hope I will get an injection of appreciation, inspiration and smiles through the sparkle in my eight year old daughters green eyes. And not wonder what my missing child would’ve chosen as her Halloween outfit.
So on the 31st, I’ll actually look at the headstones in the yards as reminders to celebrate that I am alive…..and so is Dempsey. That we get to carve a design on a bright orange pumpkin, scoop out the sweet sticky seeds and focus on the happy smiling faces that will be parading down our street in different attire.
Dempsey looking like the pumpkin at Halloween a few years ago :)
I think I’ll decorate our front door with flowers instead of skeletons…..in hope of welcoming some familiar spirits into our house instead of scaring them away. Maybe my Mom or my Sister or Savannah will be around, watching to see I’m surviving and living life the way they would want to if they were here.
I’ll raid Dempsey’s plastic pumpkin head that will be full of treats and eat too much chocolate to make me feel good!
This year I won’t wear a costume, I think I’ll just scare everyone and just ‘be me.’ Happy, sad, glad or wherever the mood takes me……holidays can be like that!
Peter as the Joker, me as Catwoman and Demps as Little Bo Peep at a Halloween party last year....I think there is a clear ORB near Dempsey's heart and I think it was Savannah's spirit captured on film, wishing she was dressed up with us as a family!
.
.
Yesterday, while driving home from Dempsey’s school, a little voice from the back seat screamed, “Look Mommy!”
It appears as if overnight, the houses in our neighborhood have been transformed into grave yards for Halloween. “Please can we take a look Mommy, PLEASE!” Dempsey begged. We took a small detour and I was amazed at what I saw. (note; We don’t celebrate Halloween in Australia).
Front yards have had extreme makeovers, looking more like something from the ‘Twilight’ movie than suburban dwellings. Lawns have been blanketed with creepy grey headstones, skeletons are hanging from garage doors and fake spider webs float in the breeze. Dempsey loved it!
One of the houses in our neighboorhood, decorated for Halloween
I know it’s all make-believe stuff, however, it does make me wonder how people who are in the thick of their grief must feel when they drive past these haunted houses?
I’m sure it must rattle them as it did me, as it’s a reminder of death. I’m curious if they have to hide their shadow of sadness or if they can see it for what it is? Just a holiday…to some….an excuse to dress up and suffer from another case of a sick stomach from eating too much gooey candy.
As a grieving person, you really are a sitting duck during the holidays. You have to tackle reminders and emotions that you have no choice but to deal with. Things like those headstones and families in high spirits when you might feel down in the dumps……along with memories of past joyful occasions. These threaten to destabilize you and lure you back into a depressed frame of mind. It’s a hard time of year. And it’s normal to feel sad.
Holidays can be tough, you can’t just tick a box, ‘choose’ option number one “Be Happy!” Sometimes the multiple choices can be limited on special days.
I remember Savannah’s first and only Halloween. She only got to enjoy one during her time with us in America. Her nurse Marlene happily provided her with a witches black cloak, a massive hat and straw broom. Demspey was only a baby, but we squeezed her into the cutest orange giraffe outfit.
Our Angel Savannah dressed as a witch
Savannah was so sick, in the terminal stages of her disease, but I still remember the gracious smile on her face as we carefully dressed her frail body in the costume. She was grateful to be just like one of the other kids that knocked on our door that night. I have that one memory…..and I find now memories can bring you comfort at this time of year. Sometimes, that’s all we have……….
The temptation is there, to give in and wallow, and sometimes it can’t be helped. But if you’re ready for it, for the emotions, you can try to embrace the day, or whatever comes with it and not be afraid….
I can try to shift my thoughts, into positive ones, and hope I will get an injection of appreciation, inspiration and smiles through the sparkle in my eight year old daughters green eyes. And not wonder what my missing child would’ve chosen as her Halloween outfit.
So on the 31st, I’ll actually look at the headstones in the yards as reminders to celebrate that I am alive…..and so is Dempsey. That we get to carve a design on a bright orange pumpkin, scoop out the sweet sticky seeds and focus on the happy smiling faces that will be parading down our street in different attire.
Dempsey looking like the pumpkin at Halloween a few years ago :)
I think I’ll decorate our front door with flowers instead of skeletons…..in hope of welcoming some familiar spirits into our house instead of scaring them away. Maybe my Mom or my Sister or Savannah will be around, watching to see I’m surviving and living life the way they would want to if they were here.
I’ll raid Dempsey’s plastic pumpkin head that will be full of treats and eat too much chocolate to make me feel good!
This year I won’t wear a costume, I think I’ll just scare everyone and just ‘be me.’ Happy, sad, glad or wherever the mood takes me……holidays can be like that!
Peter as the Joker, me as Catwoman and Demps as Little Bo Peep at a Halloween party last year....I think there is a clear ORB near Dempsey's heart and I think it was Savannah's spirit captured on film, wishing she was dressed up with us as a family!
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Sunday, October 17, 2010
Another's perspective on multiple loss and learning to live!
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It’s funny, but after you lose loved ones you become somewhat hungry and obsessive for other people’s stories of survival through grief.
I’m inspired by others who’ve walked in similar shoes to me…..down this lonely road, in bright red stilettos, or dirty work boots, scuffed runners or flip flops. I listen to their journey with a heavy heart as I pick their brain. I hope to discover some magical device to hide in my tool box, to help me on my hard days.
My friend Heidi has given me food for thought. She’s an advocate for ‘living and loving ‘life!’ This is her story………
Heidi!
I still remember the first time I met Heidi. I’d been told a lot about this pretty petite honey blond who drove big rig’s for Peter’s company for a living.
How you can often find her at a testosterone fuelled truck stop, with her cab door open, quietly turning a box of beads into a new bracelet. She must be a sight…….amongst the sweaty, greasy men that usually drive these road dragons. I bet, actually, no I’m sure, most people look twice when they see her. I can picture the men falling out of their chairs in the roadside diner’s when she wanders in.
Heidi in the drivers seat of her big rig!
Heidi has worked as a prison guard on death row and lived in Japan as a charming hostess. And as intriguing as all those things are, the reason I was excited to meet her was because we share a common bond. Heidi, like me has lost quite a few family members.
You wouldn’t know she’s been through a heat breaking childhood. She has a magnetic personality, someone who makes you feel good about yourself…that you want to be around and call ‘a friend’. With a thick smoldering southern accent that’s as warm as a cup of hot chocolate on a freezing night…..that first night I met her, we created our own magic little bubble, oblivious to anyone else.
We talked non-stop about life and those we’ve lost….and I learned back in 1985, Heidi’s adored Mother, who was only forty-two, and her twenty year old brother were killed in the Aerlex Factory Fireworks explosion in Tulsa. Heidi had only left the factory ten minutes before…..she was fifteen.
She told me one thing that stuck in her mind from that day was bright yellow curtains. It’s funny how we remember the tiniest details isn’t it? She recalls being inside her school, about to paint the walls for some pocket money during Summer break. She remember’s the sheer yellow curtains being blown open from the force of the explosion miles away. And she says, like a sixth sense, she just knew what had happened……in that instant her life changed.
Heidi's adored Mom!
The next few years Heidi went on a downward spiral, angry at those around her after the deaths. She longed for her Mom and hated people saying “God must’ve needed her” amongst other things. She said it took years to get over her bitterness that her Mom wasn’t coming back!
Its’ been twenty-five years since her Mother and brother died tragically, and she says she still misses her Mom. She wishes she could remember what she smelt like and that she could picture her without having to look at a faded photograph….however, she told me with a shaky voice, that she does remember how soft her hair was…….
And just a month ago she lost her Dad to cancer. Heidi and her sister Hazel nursed him until he died, holding his hand as he left this earthly place.
Heidi's Mom and Dad...
She said after he died she grappled with the fact that no matter how hard she had tried to keep her father alive, encouraging him to eat, giving him endless massages etc, he lost his battle. In the dead quiet of the night, on her own, she realized she had been defeated. That she is alone and that no-one will ever be there to have her back like her Dad did……..to look out for her the way a parent does.
Her words and opinion made me reflect on when my Dad dies….she is right. A parents love is unconditional, every other relationship can be severed….except for the love of a mother or a father. Heidi broke down when explaining this part of losing her Dad to me. I haven’t stopped thinking about it since!
So I asked her, what helped her become strong…..how she converted her anger and sadness into appreciation and survival? I had to smile at her answer, "Well Dee, my Mother was an amazing woman! I believe its how I was brought up, how she raised me. That you don’t dwell on the bad things. You deal with the cards you are dealt with and make the best of it.”
And after sharing a raw, real conversation about loss and life with her, where all bullshit had been abandoned at hello….I asked her through my tears, “Do you still get sad Heidi?”
She said she does…..maybe ten times a year now, however, if she picks at the scab she can make it bleed again….it’s all just below the surface. She told me “Life doesn’t care Dee, it will drag you along with it….you might as well be happy. You have to do it youself” (She has my kinda attitude! :))
We both agreed that we grab the good out of life now. That even though we are always waiting for the other shoe to drop, it’s made us aware of just how important it is to celebrate ‘today.’
Talking with Heidi made me realize there’s others out there like me, that I’m not alone….there are people that struggle some days to walk through the dark tunnel grief creates…however she left me with some powerful thoughts to ponder over.
“Dee, when you turn the lights on, the monsters are gone! They only live in the dark……….”
Heidi holding the sun :)
Love you Sis and thanks for sharing!
.
It’s funny, but after you lose loved ones you become somewhat hungry and obsessive for other people’s stories of survival through grief.
I’m inspired by others who’ve walked in similar shoes to me…..down this lonely road, in bright red stilettos, or dirty work boots, scuffed runners or flip flops. I listen to their journey with a heavy heart as I pick their brain. I hope to discover some magical device to hide in my tool box, to help me on my hard days.
My friend Heidi has given me food for thought. She’s an advocate for ‘living and loving ‘life!’ This is her story………
Heidi!
I still remember the first time I met Heidi. I’d been told a lot about this pretty petite honey blond who drove big rig’s for Peter’s company for a living.
How you can often find her at a testosterone fuelled truck stop, with her cab door open, quietly turning a box of beads into a new bracelet. She must be a sight…….amongst the sweaty, greasy men that usually drive these road dragons. I bet, actually, no I’m sure, most people look twice when they see her. I can picture the men falling out of their chairs in the roadside diner’s when she wanders in.
Heidi in the drivers seat of her big rig!
Heidi has worked as a prison guard on death row and lived in Japan as a charming hostess. And as intriguing as all those things are, the reason I was excited to meet her was because we share a common bond. Heidi, like me has lost quite a few family members.
You wouldn’t know she’s been through a heat breaking childhood. She has a magnetic personality, someone who makes you feel good about yourself…that you want to be around and call ‘a friend’. With a thick smoldering southern accent that’s as warm as a cup of hot chocolate on a freezing night…..that first night I met her, we created our own magic little bubble, oblivious to anyone else.
We talked non-stop about life and those we’ve lost….and I learned back in 1985, Heidi’s adored Mother, who was only forty-two, and her twenty year old brother were killed in the Aerlex Factory Fireworks explosion in Tulsa. Heidi had only left the factory ten minutes before…..she was fifteen.
She told me one thing that stuck in her mind from that day was bright yellow curtains. It’s funny how we remember the tiniest details isn’t it? She recalls being inside her school, about to paint the walls for some pocket money during Summer break. She remember’s the sheer yellow curtains being blown open from the force of the explosion miles away. And she says, like a sixth sense, she just knew what had happened……in that instant her life changed.
Heidi's adored Mom!
The next few years Heidi went on a downward spiral, angry at those around her after the deaths. She longed for her Mom and hated people saying “God must’ve needed her” amongst other things. She said it took years to get over her bitterness that her Mom wasn’t coming back!
Its’ been twenty-five years since her Mother and brother died tragically, and she says she still misses her Mom. She wishes she could remember what she smelt like and that she could picture her without having to look at a faded photograph….however, she told me with a shaky voice, that she does remember how soft her hair was…….
And just a month ago she lost her Dad to cancer. Heidi and her sister Hazel nursed him until he died, holding his hand as he left this earthly place.
Heidi's Mom and Dad...
She said after he died she grappled with the fact that no matter how hard she had tried to keep her father alive, encouraging him to eat, giving him endless massages etc, he lost his battle. In the dead quiet of the night, on her own, she realized she had been defeated. That she is alone and that no-one will ever be there to have her back like her Dad did……..to look out for her the way a parent does.
Her words and opinion made me reflect on when my Dad dies….she is right. A parents love is unconditional, every other relationship can be severed….except for the love of a mother or a father. Heidi broke down when explaining this part of losing her Dad to me. I haven’t stopped thinking about it since!
So I asked her, what helped her become strong…..how she converted her anger and sadness into appreciation and survival? I had to smile at her answer, "Well Dee, my Mother was an amazing woman! I believe its how I was brought up, how she raised me. That you don’t dwell on the bad things. You deal with the cards you are dealt with and make the best of it.”
And after sharing a raw, real conversation about loss and life with her, where all bullshit had been abandoned at hello….I asked her through my tears, “Do you still get sad Heidi?”
She said she does…..maybe ten times a year now, however, if she picks at the scab she can make it bleed again….it’s all just below the surface. She told me “Life doesn’t care Dee, it will drag you along with it….you might as well be happy. You have to do it youself” (She has my kinda attitude! :))
We both agreed that we grab the good out of life now. That even though we are always waiting for the other shoe to drop, it’s made us aware of just how important it is to celebrate ‘today.’
Talking with Heidi made me realize there’s others out there like me, that I’m not alone….there are people that struggle some days to walk through the dark tunnel grief creates…however she left me with some powerful thoughts to ponder over.
“Dee, when you turn the lights on, the monsters are gone! They only live in the dark……….”
Heidi holding the sun :)
Love you Sis and thanks for sharing!
.
Tuesday, October 12, 2010
A special place where you can escape, meet Jackie Collins or John Edward and learn about LIFE!
.
Do you have places you go sometimes to escape life? Like an empty chapel, or a deserted park where it’s quiet and you can mull stuff over? I do!
One of my special places is the library…..it has many memories attached to it…..both in the pages of some classic books like ‘Courdroy’ and of the times Savannah and I would visit for hours on end.

Corduroy, Savannah adored this book...I have many special memories of her giggling to it.
All the librarians would dote over Savannah. They'd tell her how cute she was or pinch her rosy cheeks. So it was difficult to go back and tell them she’d died.
And for a long time, I couldn’t muster the courage to see the friendly librarians…..or face the covers of Savannah’s favorite books like ‘Goodnight Moon’ or “The Hungry Caterpillar,” that seemed to have turned into horror stories, haunting me….staring out from the shelves.


Two of Savannah's and now Dempsey's favorite books
And like anyone nursing their wounds through grief, it took me a long time to be brave enough to attempt a visit without being bombarded by heart palpitations. I know this is common when re-visiting somewhere that has special memories attached to it. However, I’m glad I persevered, as it's one of my favorite places in the whole wide world. Its like religion to me…..and now Dempsey!
Every Saturday afternoon, we fill our ‘crate on wheels’ with books we’ve devoured from the week before, then head five minutes down the busy road to my therapy session.
As soon as we wander inside the atmosphere has an instant calming effect…like inhaling some anesthetic gas before an operation. Its quiet, oh so quiet! Usually, all you can hear is the whisper of teenagers and the gentle tapping of keyboards coming from the tech area. My mood transforms instantly!
I'm formerly known as a ‘Jackie Collins’ kinda girl or a ‘Betty Crocker’ fan, where I would lean in an aisle and salivate over the cook book section for hours. However, I’ve morphed into a metaphysics disciple......now. I stalk the self help shelves, death and dying section and read greedily……hoping to learn a snippet from a book that will help me heal more.
I trawl the aisles with my crate dragging behind……fellow patrons always look at the plastic collapsible box (the only one I’ve seen by the way), then up at me with a blank stare. I’m not a mind reader but I’m guessing they think of me like a ‘bag lady’ and probably wonder if I fill the box. Well I do, or we do......Dempsey and me. She always rushes off to the children’s area, running her hand along the spines of bright caricature books, all neatly filed in row upon row on metal shelving.
We choose our books for the week and I hope I’ve found one with some lessons inside. It has been one of my survival tools….the library, the books…reading other peoples journeys…..learning what helped after someone dies….also what doesn’t. It confirms to me again that the tears and ache I get is normal and needed, for me to keep going through this chapter in my life…..like a book!
And I hope one day soon to have my book on a shelf. That can help another mother, father, brother, sister or friend get through one of the most extreme experiences in life.
When Savannah was sick, so sick, that she would need constant watching throughout the night, I would write until I had blisters on my finger….Tarnia’s story, Mom’s and of course Savannah’s story. It was healing and I found the words poured out of me. It’s one of my dreams to have my manuscript published and tell their stories…..so that others don’t feel isolated as I did when trying to find books on grief journeys….and ultimately survival. I know if my beautiful Mom was alive she would encourage me to chase my dream……as the library does!
I have many new memories too, like watching Dempsey lie on some soft pillows and read a book to Harlie……the fat, old therapy dog, who slobbers over the pages and makes her believe he’s listening……….
.
And on the way out, we stop at the large print section, grab a mystery novel for Peter, (who now prefers big bold type as his eyes aren’t what they used to be.) :) We wave at the librarians and they always smile and say “See you next week Mrs Doyle!”
.
Do you have places you go sometimes to escape life? Like an empty chapel, or a deserted park where it’s quiet and you can mull stuff over? I do!
One of my special places is the library…..it has many memories attached to it…..both in the pages of some classic books like ‘Courdroy’ and of the times Savannah and I would visit for hours on end.
Corduroy, Savannah adored this book...I have many special memories of her giggling to it.
All the librarians would dote over Savannah. They'd tell her how cute she was or pinch her rosy cheeks. So it was difficult to go back and tell them she’d died.
And for a long time, I couldn’t muster the courage to see the friendly librarians…..or face the covers of Savannah’s favorite books like ‘Goodnight Moon’ or “The Hungry Caterpillar,” that seemed to have turned into horror stories, haunting me….staring out from the shelves.
Two of Savannah's and now Dempsey's favorite books
And like anyone nursing their wounds through grief, it took me a long time to be brave enough to attempt a visit without being bombarded by heart palpitations. I know this is common when re-visiting somewhere that has special memories attached to it. However, I’m glad I persevered, as it's one of my favorite places in the whole wide world. Its like religion to me…..and now Dempsey!
Every Saturday afternoon, we fill our ‘crate on wheels’ with books we’ve devoured from the week before, then head five minutes down the busy road to my therapy session.
As soon as we wander inside the atmosphere has an instant calming effect…like inhaling some anesthetic gas before an operation. Its quiet, oh so quiet! Usually, all you can hear is the whisper of teenagers and the gentle tapping of keyboards coming from the tech area. My mood transforms instantly!
I'm formerly known as a ‘Jackie Collins’ kinda girl or a ‘Betty Crocker’ fan, where I would lean in an aisle and salivate over the cook book section for hours. However, I’ve morphed into a metaphysics disciple......now. I stalk the self help shelves, death and dying section and read greedily……hoping to learn a snippet from a book that will help me heal more.
My crate on wheels...it allows us to gather up to 32 books :)
I trawl the aisles with my crate dragging behind……fellow patrons always look at the plastic collapsible box (the only one I’ve seen by the way), then up at me with a blank stare. I’m not a mind reader but I’m guessing they think of me like a ‘bag lady’ and probably wonder if I fill the box. Well I do, or we do......Dempsey and me. She always rushes off to the children’s area, running her hand along the spines of bright caricature books, all neatly filed in row upon row on metal shelving.
We choose our books for the week and I hope I’ve found one with some lessons inside. It has been one of my survival tools….the library, the books…reading other peoples journeys…..learning what helped after someone dies….also what doesn’t. It confirms to me again that the tears and ache I get is normal and needed, for me to keep going through this chapter in my life…..like a book!
And I hope one day soon to have my book on a shelf. That can help another mother, father, brother, sister or friend get through one of the most extreme experiences in life.
When Savannah was sick, so sick, that she would need constant watching throughout the night, I would write until I had blisters on my finger….Tarnia’s story, Mom’s and of course Savannah’s story. It was healing and I found the words poured out of me. It’s one of my dreams to have my manuscript published and tell their stories…..so that others don’t feel isolated as I did when trying to find books on grief journeys….and ultimately survival. I know if my beautiful Mom was alive she would encourage me to chase my dream……as the library does!
I have many new memories too, like watching Dempsey lie on some soft pillows and read a book to Harlie……the fat, old therapy dog, who slobbers over the pages and makes her believe he’s listening……….
.
And on the way out, we stop at the large print section, grab a mystery novel for Peter, (who now prefers big bold type as his eyes aren’t what they used to be.) :) We wave at the librarians and they always smile and say “See you next week Mrs Doyle!”
.
Tuesday, October 5, 2010
Another Trip Around the Sun!
Today is my birthday!
I hate my birthday. It has little importance to me anymore. I know I shouldn’t feel this way but I can’t help it. That feeling of sadness and wishing for things that I can’t have are permanently embedded in me….like the brown birthmark on my neck.
I know today will be one of those bipolar days where my emotions are up and down like a yo-yo. Taking me from smiles to tears in a heartbeat….as they have already. It’s the same every year…..and I’m always ready for it.
My calender with Dempsey's reminder on the 5th
I don’t mark my birthday on the calendar anymore, however, last week as I turned over the new month I noticed my beautiful little girl had scribbled it in.
Dempsey’s handwriting was scrawly but oh so special to me. I cling to these little moments now…..they top up my heart with appreciation at how lucky I am. I consciously squirrel them away, stockpiling them for a day like today when I feel sorry for myself. They are great little reminders and help to keep my mind where it should be.
On a birthday years ago, when I was earning a good wage, I bought myself a special birthday present. A chunky, heavy gold bracelet. Something I always wanted…back then! It has big gold links and a heart shaped shiny gold locket.
After Savannah died I couldn’t bring myself to wear it….to even look at it. Anything that was so materialistic and over indulgent made me feel sick. That I had this thing, this chunk of metal that I once thought was important made me feel ugly and shallow. I have worn it a few times since she died but it reminds me of how unimportant and worthless that ‘stuff’ is. It means nothing to me now. It sits in a box, wedged at the back of a shelf, collecting dust. Hidden from where I can see it.
I know these feelings I have on what should be a special day for me can be the same for others who have lost a loved one. Things like….I won’t hear my Mom’s smiling voice saying “Happy Birthday Precious girl!” And my sister Tarnia’s card hasn’t arrived as it always did a week early with her beautiful cursive handwriting in old fashioned ink from her fountain pen. And of course there’s Savannah…… ……..my one birthday wish that I know as hard as I wish when I blow out my candles won’t materialize before my eyes. So yeah, birthdays suck these days.***
My Dad and Brenda's birthday package all the way from Australia! Yum!
I am thankful for my Dad’s package of delicious rich Australian chocolate that arrived on Saturday(that sat on our table and took me an hour to get the courage to open) and his hand picked card that made me cry. I love my big brother Mark who sent me a special email today…” A big hug an kiss for you Mop. Have a great day .Hope you get nice presents from PD an Demps. Love you lots Moppy xxxxxxxxxxxxx
Peter's lovely gift :) Maybe for him more than me!
I am eternally grateful for my friends that have texted, emailed and called, made me laugh and generously given me presents. Who make me feel loved.
But on days like today it’s hard to celebrate and not reflect on who’s missing from my life…and who may be gone by the next birthday.
This beautiful boquet of roses just arrived from my friend Trishie in Oz
I can hide from my birthday for a while. Choose to not answer the phone, or read emails. I know that’s silly but it’s a coping mechanism. A survival tool that gets me through some hours until I feel strong enough to face reality and my dark mood lifts into one of being appreciative that I am still here to mark another year off.
I don’t take for granted that I am alive. Or that I have a happy healthy little girl who blessed me with a home made card hidden behind her back this morning, with a beaming smile and a “Happy Birthday Mommy” hug. Or Peter’s present of a pink bag from Victoria Secret filled with a bottle of Moet and chocolates….and underwear :) all needing to be enjoyed.
I will do my best with the rest of the day to be enthusiastic, not to be a ‘Debbie Downer’ or a ‘Negative Nancy’…..to answer the calls from Australia with a cheerful “hello!” and hide the sting in my voice.
So I know my pity party today isn’t a permanent state of mind.
I’ve made another trip around the sun……this years tour filled with highs and lows, happy and sad days that happen to everyone. However, through all those important to me and have let me know how important I am to them.....my tank has been topped up today with strength to face and plow through the hard days ahead.
Already I’ve been interrupted at least five times to answer the phone or read a text…already the day is looking brighter….and as I finish this off my phone is noisily ringing off the hook…….Happy Birthday to me!
Dempsey and me with her card...taken an hour ago!
My Signs today from Heaven today....coincidence????
***As I was writing this part of the blog outside in the quiet a tiny hummingbird flew in under our patio, hovered for at least 5 seconds in front of my face, then fluttered off…..I wish I had my camera handy! I HAVE to take comfort that is was a birthday message delivered to me from Savannah, Tarnia or my beautiful Mom…..after that I just know their souls are around today! You can believe that or not but I was in awe and wished someone was by my side to witness the miracle…..like life!
and then......just a while ago, if you look at the photo below....
I took 3 different photos of Demps and me to put here on my blog....if you look at this one (which I didn't like of me) you can see in the upper left hand corner a clear ORB......they say ORBs in a photo are spirits captured on film....dust or specks look different as they don't have the core and swirls true ORB photos do. I think this one is clearly a true ORB....or maybe its just my wishing another wish on my birthday! :)
I believe there's a spiritual ORB in the top left corner for my birthday!
I hate my birthday. It has little importance to me anymore. I know I shouldn’t feel this way but I can’t help it. That feeling of sadness and wishing for things that I can’t have are permanently embedded in me….like the brown birthmark on my neck.
I know today will be one of those bipolar days where my emotions are up and down like a yo-yo. Taking me from smiles to tears in a heartbeat….as they have already. It’s the same every year…..and I’m always ready for it.
My calender with Dempsey's reminder on the 5th
I don’t mark my birthday on the calendar anymore, however, last week as I turned over the new month I noticed my beautiful little girl had scribbled it in.
Dempsey’s handwriting was scrawly but oh so special to me. I cling to these little moments now…..they top up my heart with appreciation at how lucky I am. I consciously squirrel them away, stockpiling them for a day like today when I feel sorry for myself. They are great little reminders and help to keep my mind where it should be.
On a birthday years ago, when I was earning a good wage, I bought myself a special birthday present. A chunky, heavy gold bracelet. Something I always wanted…back then! It has big gold links and a heart shaped shiny gold locket.
After Savannah died I couldn’t bring myself to wear it….to even look at it. Anything that was so materialistic and over indulgent made me feel sick. That I had this thing, this chunk of metal that I once thought was important made me feel ugly and shallow. I have worn it a few times since she died but it reminds me of how unimportant and worthless that ‘stuff’ is. It means nothing to me now. It sits in a box, wedged at the back of a shelf, collecting dust. Hidden from where I can see it.
I know these feelings I have on what should be a special day for me can be the same for others who have lost a loved one. Things like….I won’t hear my Mom’s smiling voice saying “Happy Birthday Precious girl!” And my sister Tarnia’s card hasn’t arrived as it always did a week early with her beautiful cursive handwriting in old fashioned ink from her fountain pen. And of course there’s Savannah…… ……..my one birthday wish that I know as hard as I wish when I blow out my candles won’t materialize before my eyes. So yeah, birthdays suck these days.***
My Dad and Brenda's birthday package all the way from Australia! Yum!
I am thankful for my Dad’s package of delicious rich Australian chocolate that arrived on Saturday(that sat on our table and took me an hour to get the courage to open) and his hand picked card that made me cry. I love my big brother Mark who sent me a special email today…” A big hug an kiss for you Mop. Have a great day .Hope you get nice presents from PD an Demps. Love you lots Moppy xxxxxxxxxxxxx
Peter's lovely gift :) Maybe for him more than me!
I am eternally grateful for my friends that have texted, emailed and called, made me laugh and generously given me presents. Who make me feel loved.
But on days like today it’s hard to celebrate and not reflect on who’s missing from my life…and who may be gone by the next birthday.
This beautiful boquet of roses just arrived from my friend Trishie in Oz
I can hide from my birthday for a while. Choose to not answer the phone, or read emails. I know that’s silly but it’s a coping mechanism. A survival tool that gets me through some hours until I feel strong enough to face reality and my dark mood lifts into one of being appreciative that I am still here to mark another year off.
I don’t take for granted that I am alive. Or that I have a happy healthy little girl who blessed me with a home made card hidden behind her back this morning, with a beaming smile and a “Happy Birthday Mommy” hug. Or Peter’s present of a pink bag from Victoria Secret filled with a bottle of Moet and chocolates….and underwear :) all needing to be enjoyed.
I will do my best with the rest of the day to be enthusiastic, not to be a ‘Debbie Downer’ or a ‘Negative Nancy’…..to answer the calls from Australia with a cheerful “hello!” and hide the sting in my voice.
So I know my pity party today isn’t a permanent state of mind.
I’ve made another trip around the sun……this years tour filled with highs and lows, happy and sad days that happen to everyone. However, through all those important to me and have let me know how important I am to them.....my tank has been topped up today with strength to face and plow through the hard days ahead.
Already I’ve been interrupted at least five times to answer the phone or read a text…already the day is looking brighter….and as I finish this off my phone is noisily ringing off the hook…….Happy Birthday to me!
Dempsey and me with her card...taken an hour ago!
My Signs today from Heaven today....coincidence????
***As I was writing this part of the blog outside in the quiet a tiny hummingbird flew in under our patio, hovered for at least 5 seconds in front of my face, then fluttered off…..I wish I had my camera handy! I HAVE to take comfort that is was a birthday message delivered to me from Savannah, Tarnia or my beautiful Mom…..after that I just know their souls are around today! You can believe that or not but I was in awe and wished someone was by my side to witness the miracle…..like life!
and then......just a while ago, if you look at the photo below....
I took 3 different photos of Demps and me to put here on my blog....if you look at this one (which I didn't like of me) you can see in the upper left hand corner a clear ORB......they say ORBs in a photo are spirits captured on film....dust or specks look different as they don't have the core and swirls true ORB photos do. I think this one is clearly a true ORB....or maybe its just my wishing another wish on my birthday! :)
I believe there's a spiritual ORB in the top left corner for my birthday!
Wednesday, September 29, 2010
It all depends on YOU!
Do you ever long for a date or a special occasion to be here sooner that it is? I used to do this, all the time....wish Christmas would hurry up and get here, or a party, or something I was looking forward to that was circled on my calender. I would wish away my days. I try not to anymore.
After my sister died I started to realize how special each day can be...if you want it to be....it all depends on you! Time is precious.....I learned that the hard way through nursing our terminally ill daughter.
When we found out Savannah would only live for a few more years, as heart wrenching as it was, I tried to make every day special. Create some memory each day, even if it was just a little thing like reading a book to her and savoring her smiles she would reward me with.
Lately however, I've been homesick.....for Australia, for my family and friends across the pond...for a traditional, succulent roast lamb with roasted pumpkin and Aussie meat pies that ooze scalding delicious meat down your fingers......leaving you wanting more. For my Dad's shy smile and little pat on the back he'll give me when I throw my arms around his neck. And then there is my sisters four children who will have grown so much, both in their height and attitude.
A famous Aussie Meat Pie......delish!
We have to wait until November to board the big bird that will transport us half a world away....and I'm finding it hard at the moment not to wish my days away. But when I start to do this I have to make a conscious effort to remind myself that there will be many days ahead that I can cherish instead of longing for a day a few months away.
When the jumbo finally descends into Sydney, Australia, its exhilarating, the pilot always dips the wing and all you can see is sprawling suburbia with the bluest ocean surrounding the city...the Opera House and of course the famous Sydney Harbour Bridge with bustling traffic moving along it. Over the P.A system on the plane they usually play "I still call Australia home" or some other ballad that makes me cry and long for my family. And when the big bird touches down and screeches to a halt I smile amid my tears, knowing it won't be long and I'll see my Dad...and my friends.
The view of Sydney Harbour with the Opera House and the Bridge we call the coat hanger! :)
So I'm struggling at the moment to practice what I preach and make each day count until then. There really is no place like home and loved ones. The simple pleasures of enjoying a meal together...or a hot cup of tea around our kitchen table now, makes me consciously stop and absorb the moment....and focus on being grateful for the special time I've been given.
So until November, I'll have to say a daily mantra to myself to focus on the here and now, the present day or moment and not wish I was elsewhere. I know the weeks will fly by as they do and I also know there will be lots of fun times here before we leave.
Just last night I watched Dempsey in her funny little ways teach a thirty-five year old how to play chess....it made me smile and my heart fill with pride at how everyday can be special....it all depends on you!
At "home" last Christmas in Australia....Me, Dempsey and Peter
PS; Maybe I'll purchase some red patent leather shoes...close my eyes, tap my heels together and say "There's no place like home, there's no place like home, there's no place like home........."
Hoping my blue cup will be filled with sunshine for the next forty-two days...but hey, who's counting! :) x
.
.
After my sister died I started to realize how special each day can be...if you want it to be....it all depends on you! Time is precious.....I learned that the hard way through nursing our terminally ill daughter.
When we found out Savannah would only live for a few more years, as heart wrenching as it was, I tried to make every day special. Create some memory each day, even if it was just a little thing like reading a book to her and savoring her smiles she would reward me with.
Lately however, I've been homesick.....for Australia, for my family and friends across the pond...for a traditional, succulent roast lamb with roasted pumpkin and Aussie meat pies that ooze scalding delicious meat down your fingers......leaving you wanting more. For my Dad's shy smile and little pat on the back he'll give me when I throw my arms around his neck. And then there is my sisters four children who will have grown so much, both in their height and attitude.
A famous Aussie Meat Pie......delish!
We have to wait until November to board the big bird that will transport us half a world away....and I'm finding it hard at the moment not to wish my days away. But when I start to do this I have to make a conscious effort to remind myself that there will be many days ahead that I can cherish instead of longing for a day a few months away.
When the jumbo finally descends into Sydney, Australia, its exhilarating, the pilot always dips the wing and all you can see is sprawling suburbia with the bluest ocean surrounding the city...the Opera House and of course the famous Sydney Harbour Bridge with bustling traffic moving along it. Over the P.A system on the plane they usually play "I still call Australia home" or some other ballad that makes me cry and long for my family. And when the big bird touches down and screeches to a halt I smile amid my tears, knowing it won't be long and I'll see my Dad...and my friends.
The view of Sydney Harbour with the Opera House and the Bridge we call the coat hanger! :)
So I'm struggling at the moment to practice what I preach and make each day count until then. There really is no place like home and loved ones. The simple pleasures of enjoying a meal together...or a hot cup of tea around our kitchen table now, makes me consciously stop and absorb the moment....and focus on being grateful for the special time I've been given.
So until November, I'll have to say a daily mantra to myself to focus on the here and now, the present day or moment and not wish I was elsewhere. I know the weeks will fly by as they do and I also know there will be lots of fun times here before we leave.
Just last night I watched Dempsey in her funny little ways teach a thirty-five year old how to play chess....it made me smile and my heart fill with pride at how everyday can be special....it all depends on you!
At "home" last Christmas in Australia....Me, Dempsey and Peter
PS; Maybe I'll purchase some red patent leather shoes...close my eyes, tap my heels together and say "There's no place like home, there's no place like home, there's no place like home........."
Hoping my blue cup will be filled with sunshine for the next forty-two days...but hey, who's counting! :) x
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