This school holidays and tested my resilience with dealing with change and challenges.
Grieving has taught me that I know so much of what I need - often it includes relying on people to help me navigate situations; sometimes it’s me delivering stern messages to my own self; sometimes it is needing friends to do actual things; other times it’s putting myself in situations that I either convince myself I want to do / absolutely do not want to do and finding my concerns about not coping come true, but because of where I am I have to force myself to deal with it to get out of it.
It has also absolutely taught me to be grateful.
Many many MANY grief books and blogs and experiences discuss how the ‘being grateful’ thing comes later in the grieving process.
But I felt it very strongly very early through the outpouring of love for the kids and I, and for Pete, immediately after he died.
Our friends are, quite simply, extraordinary beyond all measure. They continue to be. I am, and always will be, so bloody grateful to each and every person who has been amazing in all the big and small ways.
But in this last little while I’ve lost my ability to see the forest for the trees.
These holidays I so desperately needed to see friends and family. But when travel restrictions didn’t allow that, it absolutely broke me.
So many things doubled down on reiterating how hard I was finding everything and every time I looked for a jungle vine to pull me out of the quicksand of grief it wasn’t there - mostly through self sabotage.
I desperately craved nothing and everything for the holidays. I wanted to rely on friends and family to carry my load. Demand them to, almost. It was too hard for me alone.
And friends did come to the rescue. As they always do for me. And I know they will never know just how fundamentally they helped me through a phone call or text message or visit.
But I also had to come to the realisation that it is me that is going to have to give the kids the experiences I want them to have.
Irrespective of how hard it is for me. I need to do it. On my own. With them. Or they will miss out. We will miss out.
Not because people won’t. Because in this current covid world they can’t. And also, at the end of the day, it’s actually not their responsibility… it’s mine.
So this last weekend I did things. We did things. Together. On our own.
It was exhausting. I am beyond tired. I was so frigging emotionally challenging. But as a friend said: totally worth it for life long memories it provided.
It was worth it to sit at dinner and discuss with the kids which Monet, Renoir or Boudin was their favourite; see their eyes light up as food appeared at the table they had never tried before; see them appreciate items purchased…
It was worth the ranting and arguing and desperation about an apparent inability to understand the words ‘pack your bags with everything you need’…
It was worth every bruise from the ice skating; every blister from pounding the pavement in Melbourne, every dollar spent.
For that, I am grateful.
Then this morning, against every desire I had, I forced myself to take up the offer from a friend to take the kids fox hunting.
The kids were tired. I was tired.
But we did it … well, 2 of 4 kids did it.
And I stood on this dam bank in the fresh air and it was equal parts awesome and so bloody sad.
I stood and looked at this and thought: I’m so glad I got up. I really am. This is actually really beautiful.
But I also thought: it’s so fucking sad Pete doesn’t get to see this. To ever be able to see this again. To never experience what we had on the weekend. I am just so sad he doesn’t get to. I feel sad for him … and he doesn’t even know what he’s missing. And that might be even sadder.
And then also I thought: I am so bloody glad we did what we did. I am grateful for being out here now. I am actually grateful for what we have.
And for maybe the first time: It wasn’t a past tense thing. Like it so often has been - grateful for Pete, what we made together, what he gave us.
But today? it was present tense.
Grateful for what we have now.
What we have had this last weekend.
*NOTE: pause here for a couple of hours while I set the BBQ on fire, scared the neighbour trying to extinguish an actually on fire barbecue armed with only a tea towel, bbq scraper and a set of tongs, served dinner an hour later than I wanted, got into a yelling match with a teenager or two, yelled at another child who had not put their school uniform required for tomorrow into the wash despite being asked many many MANY times over the last 2 weeks….
And despite the above I do still feel like it all WAS worth it. I am glad I did what I did irrespective of how tired I am. I’m glad I got up and got to just ‘be’ in this - because the reality really is, I know people who would really like to be, and they can’t.
*As a footnote: The self-sabotage of this whole situation continues with my inability to go to bed when there is an Australian playing a sporting code … Motorsport excluded - I can let that happen without some innate need to outwardly verbalise to the television my thoughts about the sporting contest. But honestly - how good is Ash Barty??
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