I would bottle the feeling of leaning forward, and how you push forward with me as if you are trying to break through my skin.
If I could…
I would bottle the feeling when I walk, and I feel you move and shift inside me, throwing me off balance and making me move slow.
If I could…
I would bottle the feeling of your hiccups, and how when they jump out at me low and deep, my whole tummy moves, a quick left to right in each jump.
I would bottle all of this, because I know, soon it will all be over.
And that will be that. I won’t feel you within me, moving about, wondering if you like what I just ate and just what it is about fruit that gets you going so?
Instead, I’ll be able to hold you.
Settle your hiccups in my arms.
Watch your face as you try something different.
Listen out for your movements and discover what it is that you like to do.
I’m looking forward to meeting you… but I’ll never forget this beautiful, brief moment in time.
It’s a little tradition of ours which you might know by now, that on Wednesdays Hubbie and I get our morning coffee and brunch, and then follow with a short trip to the water…
We missed last week because we were doing jobs on the other side of town.
You know that annoying thing that kids do, when they imitate every thing you say, like a personal parrot?
I HAVE THE ANTIDOTE.
Baby girl was doing this such thing after school. We were having coffee time… which means I have the coffee, and she has the milk.
And then she started to copy everything I said.
I usually try to ignore it, and laugh it off. I even try to go on and keep talking, but it’s highly distracting, hearing your words echoed to you again…
And again.
And again.
So I decided to throw her off.
I took a sip of my coffee, and she copied by taking a sip of her milk…
Then I lifted my head upwards, and started gurgling the coffee in my mouth!
She started coughing! I quickly gulped down the coffee and was like, “cough it out, cough it out!”
She did a few really good coughs, and as soon as she had regained her breath, she started cracking up! She was laughing and laughing, and I couldn’t help myself, soon I was doubled over in laughter too.
She does this laugh cackle, but it’s in this cute and really addictive way – you can’t not laugh. And we were just there making each other laugh, we couldn’t even look at each other without breaking up again.
It reminded me of how much I used to laugh as a kid and a teen, and how much of that it seems we lose as we get older… which is why it’s vital to hang around kids. They keep you young and remind you of all the fun, silly stuff, the stuff that is so important to keeping the child in you alive.
They may do silly things, but in doing so they encourage you to be silly back… and keep things light.
Lightness. Silliness. It’s what we all need more of. I know I do. 💖
It was grey, and even drizzly as we left the house, but that wasn’t going to stop us.
Neither did it affect the herds of people walking blocks and blocks to get to the Mt Martha South Beach Market today.
It’s a beautiful little beachside market with great water views, a real village feel, and baby girl and I wandered about, smelling this, touching that, ooh-ing and ahh-ing as required, and then also…
EATING THIS.
You know those spiral spuds that you find at any kind of outdoor, food truck dependant event? Baby girl loves those. As soon as she saw there were food trucks, she was suddenly hungry, and it wasn’t even lunchtime yet.
We walked around some more before I caved in. Hell, even I wanted a spiral-y spud.
We took our skewered potato and sat on a bit of a hill, not even facing the market behind us… because the view in front was so much better.
So much of my days are spent trying to get as much done as possible… ticking things off my list, running from one task to the next…
But here, we just sat. I moved all else from my mind. Felt the damp grass on my butt. Slight sprinkling of water on my head.
At first I really wanted to bring baby girl along with me.
But the coronavirus restrictions imposing a guest limit, turned out to be a blessing in disguise.
Of course the thought of her being there beside me made me happy. It was a bridal shower. It was a girls girls girls afternoon out, with pretty and dainty cakes, various tones of mauve and blush, and a beautiful entry into the delicate, finer and charming things in life.
But like I’d said. Restrictions on numbers meant adults only.
Days leading up to the event, it dawned on me.
Hell yeah! I deserved a beautiful afternoon out where I could relax and enjoy, indulging in some fine food, gorgeous company and pretty surroundings.
Sans child. Without the usual –
“Put that down!”
“Don’t touch the cake, it’s not time yet!”
“Keep your voice down!”
“SHHHHHH!”
“For the love of God, stop!”
Yeah, that.
And so I did. I had a beautiful afternoon as expected. It was relaxed and leisurely, sunny and funny, and perfect for a Sunday in December.
Turns out I wasn’t the only one who had a great day.
Hubbie and baby girl ended up having a Daddy-Daughter day.
Like I said, blessing in disguise, for us ALL.
Because they don’t get a lot of time, just them two, together. It’s usually baby girl and I, and a couple of days a week it’s all 3 of us…
So today was kinda special. 😍
They did grocery shopping. They bought my Chrissie pressie… and kept the secret to themselves.
She scrapped her knee running, and cried. He picked her up, put Dettol on her wounds, and bandaged them up.
She talked and talked and talked. She told him things, he listened. He admired how much she’s grown.
How much she is growing up each and every day.
And this evening, as I watched her apply the brand new lip balm that her Dad had bought her, on him NO LESS, well I got a little emotional.
“Uh, silly question,” I started with the waitress. “But this ‘wild mushroom’ breakfast, is that really heavy on the mushrooms?”
She nodded solemnly, like the ridiculous question had been asked many times before.
“It is,” she replied. “There are many different types of mushrooms in it. But, IT IS delicious.”
Hubbie and I were out to brekkie this morning after dropping off baby girl at school.
We were in as you might call it, the “go-slightly-nuts” camp since we’ve been let out of lockdown, and enjoying fewer and fewer restrictions.
I’ve heard some people say they don’t want to do everything at once. Or spend everything at once. They might wait for things to, settle.
They might spread things out a bit.
NOT US.
Well, not me anyway. Hubbie is pretty chill, and could go either way, though even he was keen to get out and do something different on this Wednesday.
I don’t want to wait. (Dawson’s anyone?)
Honestly. I have other stuff on my mind, other demons to contend with.
I don’t need to stay at home longer, wait longer, and possibly even, waste my chance at living some kind of normal life again until God forbid, something else happens and then –
I can’t. I can’t say it. I’ll let you fill in the blanks.
I don’t want to move backwards. I want to move forwards. But I will still do things NOW, you know, ‘in case.’
So, breakfast. I had been tossing up between just some normal poached eggs on toast, vs these wild mushrooms.
Did I want to go fancy? Jazzed up? Would it be too much? Should I just stick with what I knew I would enjoy?
Thank God I chose fancy.
WILD! I chose wild. The meal was absolutely amazing, the mushrooms were so flavoursome, and I was so fulfilled following it…
I was working from home when an old work colleague called me.
She told me that a mutual friend of ours, our old work friend, had died.
She cried, and I said ‘Oh my God,’ repeatedly.
It wasn’t that much of a shock. In terms of, we knew she had been battling a serious illness for years now.
But she had been winning. She had been beating it, time and time again, and I really felt like her bubbly personality and upbeat attitude would actually kick its arse.
I really did. I thought she had.
I read her posts on facebook, and I also followed her journey, taking in eagerly her updates that she was getting better, she was part of the small percentage that was still alive since her original diagnosis, watching her face on the screen of my mobile, all happy and positive, the way I used to see her when we worked together.
Back in the party shop days, when we were both in uni. We’d usually work the same Friday night shift, 4pm-8pm, and she’d fill me in on her weekend plans, the clubs she would frequent, the friends she would go out with. She was so bubbly. So positive. I don’t think I ever saw her mad. EVER. Even when a sad or sore topic crossed her lips, all it did was lower her voice, make her eyes go distant for only a moment…
But then she’d be back. That happy girl we all knew.
Today on the phone, my old work friend cried. I just stared at my computer screen, my mind blank with shock. I told her I’d call her back to have a good chat… I was at work, and had to process it all. She urged me to check out the facebook page that confirmed the sad news.
We hung up, and I knew I shouldn’t have… not just because I was at work, but because my mind was already becoming a jumbled mess.
But I did. I looked up the facebook page and burst into tears.
Why? Why her? How? She was 2 years younger than me. She was 34 when she died, months ago, and we’d only found out now. My heart sobbed. I felt sad all over. I thought of her again and again, her fight, her courage, her strength…
I struggled to think of memories. They were from so long ago, over a decade now. But slowly they came back, more and more.
Her long nails that she kept immaculate, strong and healthy despite all the balloons we tied and dust we encountered.
I remembered her 21st birthday. It was in a huge hall and she had hundreds of people there. She was dating a guy she was rapt about at the time, but he ended up to be a bit of a douche. I have to say, I wasn’t surprised about him when she later told us.
But I was beyond floored to hear the news of her death today.
Why? How? How did this happen? She had a loving family. A wide circle of friends.
She was going places. She loved her job. She was motivated. Dedicated. hard-working. Fun and cheeky and hilarious.
How did this happen?
This afternoon, my thoughts went into a deep, dark place. I cried over my keyboard, and then Hubbie came home for lunch and I cried some more.
He just nodded. He understood.
I told him I was scared. “What’s the point of life… we’re all leading towards death, or heading towards watching all our loved ones die. I’m scared to love anyone.”
I struggled with these thoughts. To and fro I went, battling, thinking of her, thinking how life was scary, life was unfair… life didn’t ask you. Things happened.
Things just happened.
Nothing mattered anymore. All this coronavirus crap… seriously who cared?
We were alive! We were breathing. Hell even if I felt pain somewhere, it meant I was alive.
I was feeling. Breathing.
A few little things made me realise what was important in the second part of the day. I finished work, and instead of rushing off to do home-schooling, and start the whole routine of getting jobs done, I sat with baby girl. Watched her draw with some colouring pens she’d re-discovered.
We had our coffee break on the balcony.
I used my eyes to look at the water.
My hands to wave at the passing neighbour.
I smelt the coffee with my nose.
I felt the sunshine on my face.
I heard the wind breathing as it wrapped the warmth of Spring around us.
I was alive.
We took a walk around the block. I needed it. We looked at houses. We counted street signs. We laughed. Touched leaves. Ran.
At home, I read, on whim. I’ve been holding back, trying to not read as much in order to motivate myself to catch up on my Book Reviews for my blog… but it’s made my soul sad. My soul wants to read. I want to read.
So I read a chapter just before dinner.
Yes, if you looked at it deeply, darkly… we were all leading to inevitable death. Ours, or everyone around us.
And we didn’t know what would come first.
Bleak, yes. Not very glass half-full at all.
But we had this life to live… and to love, was to live. We had to spend our time on this earth making the most of it, enjoying the little moments, using our senses, experiencing them, and being grateful that we were granted time on this earth at all.
Doing what we wanted. What made us feel good, in our core. I realised I had really followed my heart today, because the news of our work friend passing was so upsetting, I had to do something to make myself feel better…
I am still so profoundly sad. I think of her and I feel like crying all over again. I can’t believe it. I can’t believe she’s not here anymore.
Despite everything, I spent my time doing something for me today. Something to make me smile through my sadness. Something to make me happy through my tears.
And it was made all the more meaningful tonight. Baby girl kept asking for kiss after kiss after hug after hug from us, as she lay in bed tonight. It became a joke to her, saying “one more,” every time we moved back.
carcrashgratitude 