Last weekend I went home to my home town and attended the first event in that town since Pete died.
I had spent a lot of time completely overthinking this event - what would I do with the kids, how would I walk in on my own, how could I repeat the same stories I had been repeating in the town where we lived over again with people I hadn’t seen in months, could I spend an entire social function talking to people without having a person there just for me to fall back to if things got hard ... what the bloody hell do you wear to a smart casual dress code event?
I’ve only been back home once since Pete died.
Even then I couldn’t get out to the plains north of Conargo that he loved so much and it was a fleeting, stressed filled journey.
I woke up in Deniliquin the day of the party, breathed in the Riverina air that just smells different to the air in Western Victoria and cried for the memories it evoked, for what I miss about being home.
But when it finally came time to go to the party, I had a good friend looking after the kids and they were having a ball when I left them, I had someone offer me a ride to the event so I didn’t have to walk in alone - those same people fired a couple of quick champagnes into me on arrival to calm my nerves - and I had spent an inordinate amount of money on a rabbit fur coat that Pete would be so mortified about, it might be a good thing he isn’t here to see what I had invested in!
By far the most truly amazing thing was the feeling of support I felt in that room. And it wasn’t even my party.
There is something to be said for walking into a room where everyone in there has known you your whole life.
A room full of people who had almost all made the trip to Pete’s funeral.
A room full of people who didn’t once ask me to explain how I can function, they just understood and accepted I was.
And it was such a relief.
It reminded me of the comforts of home.
The town we live in now, which has so wholeheartedly embraced our family with such love and support, is Home.
But there is a special place reserved for Deniliquin and Conargo in the Riverina of NSW - that’s Home Home.
And so to all of those people at the party and its Hosts who have known both Pete and I for most of our lives - thank you for easing me back into the social world at Home again ... it ripped off a bandaid quickly and lovingly.
We will see you all again at the races, when we tear the next ‘social event without Pete’ band aid off ... I’ll probably need a couple of quick champagnes then, too.
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