Looking back and moving on

I had thought that yesterday's post would have been enough to get me through today. I thought that I had dumped enough of my feelings enabling me to sail through today almost oblivious to what it marked.

Apparently I could not have been more wrong.

Thanks to Facebook and it's lovely 'you have memories from today' feature I was swiftly reminded of all the pain and sadness I have felt on this day over the last six years. Of course some might say that is what I get for checking Facebook before removing myself from the comfort of my bed but whatever.

So much sighing.

Proving that I really am a glutton for punishment that quite possibly wants to wallow in a pool of my own tears once I had finished torturing myself with my heartbreaking Facebook memories I trawled through the archive of my old blog to see what I had to say about it all over there.

The thing that I really love most about blogging is the record that it gives me. All the moments in time that I manage to capture and freeze for all eternity. Even on the saddest of days.

Over the past few days I have been thinking a lot about my writing and my blogs and what I want from it all and where I think it will go. Sadly a part of thinks the answer is nowhere.

As much as I may have a way with words and a story to tell, it is quite possibly not something that will ever be seen by the masses. And I think for the first time in a long time, possibly even ever, I am ok with that.

I haven't given up completely on the notion I will one day be a published author, just the notion that this space will break the internet, because it won't. This space is for me. For me to reminisce, to make sense of my thoughts, to save for years to come.

With that in mind here the collection of all the other posts I have written on this day. 2009, 2011, 2012, 2013, 2013, 2014. My mind is going into overdrive trying to work out what made me not write in 2010 and why the posts from 2013 actually talk about it June rather than now. My guess is that my grief in June was so great that by October I had figured I had gone on about it all enough.

With my new found attitude towards blogging, which will hopefully see me writing more, I have decided to step down from #teamIBOT. Unfortunately the last few months commenting on other people's blogs has felt somewhat of a chore. Which is not the way that it should be.

I want to get back to leaving a comment because the post touched me in some way not because I feel obligated. I just don't have it in me anymore to be the old blogging me that commented all over the place in the hope people would come by and do the same. I want readers who want to be here to see what I have to say rather than dropping by on account of some implied obligation to return comment love. This also means that I will not be joining in linkies (well after today) or hosting Thankful Thursday anymore.

Joining in with Jess for the last time for a bit and hoping that you will still keep popping by once in a while.

Just another not so manic Monday

It's Monday morning. In a few short minutes the clock will be ticking over to nine. Which by most accounts is still relatively early. It does however feel as if I have been up for hours upon hours. Time is currently going painfully slow for me and I do not like it at all.

Last night went on forever.

After nearly two weeks of late nights and adjusting to night shifts I thought it would be wise to take the opportunity to have an early night and play sleep catch up. Dumbest idea ever. Apparently my body has decided that it doesn't need sleep for more than two hours at a time. Fun times right there.

Despite today being the start of the second week of school holidays, meaning I could have stayed in bed longer and prolonged the already longest night on earth, I rose with the sparrows, or at least Mr Awesome, as he does not have the blessing of school holidays and doing whatever it is his heart desires.

Tomorrow marks the six year anniversary of Dad's moving on to a better place. The end of his suffering as a mere mortal on this god for saken planet that lets the elderly linger on for what must feel like eternity for them as their bodies ever so slow stop working and start to shut down.

Death is such a funny thing. Especially in the elderly. 

I remember back to that fateful day and even through all my heart ache I felt a wave of relief wash over me. I was so glad that his pain had come to an end, that he would no longer have to suffer through each day wondering if it would be his last. Nor would I. 

For years my thoughts each day had been consumed with whether or not this would be the day that I had been dreading for as long I could remember. It was at times rather exhausting to say the least. Not to mention pointless but I it was a hard thing to shake. Fear is like that.

I was born when Dad was forty eight. A time in most people's life when becoming a parent is the last thing on their mind. 

Not my Dad though. 

He was forever saying he wasn't like everyone else. He was right. Over the next seven years he would go on to father two more children.

At the current tender age of thirty seven and with three children safely tucked under my belt, having more children is the last thing I want. I can't see that changing over the next ten years either. In ten years Teapot will be fifteen. The thought of starting over with the whole baby thing again then makes me shudder and want to curl up in a ball.

Not my Dad though. 

There was never any doubt as to how much he loved being a parent, even at that later stage in life. What's more is that it wasn't until I was well into my teens that I really started to realise just how much older he was compared to all my friends' fathers. 

He had always joked you are only as old as the woman you feel. For a long time I had just giggled not really understanding what it meant. My Mum is twenty one years his junior.

Generally speaking I go about my days not giving much thought to the fact that Dad is no longer with us. It is a part of life I have learnt to deal with. An inevitable part of life that I waited for, for so long that when it happened I just kept keeping on. At three and a half months pregnant I refused to feel grief for the fear of my unborn child having a sad soul.

Each year though as September draws to an end and October slowly gets underway I feel myself become somewhat consumed with an all encompassing sadness. All I can think of is my dear old Dad, how much I love him and how I will never ever get to see him again. Tears constantly well in my eyes begging for permission to roll down my cheeks. Rarely do I let them.

Except for when I write.

Writing is my solace. The place where I can truly be me. It gives me the chance to unravel my mind and find a place for my feelings to fit. It is my one true friend that lets me say what needs to be said.

Dear Dad

It has been five years since we said goodbye. I could be all dramatic and say they were five hard long years but the reality is they have flown by in almost the blink of an eye. You always said life would go on without you and so it has.

There have been days when thoughts of you have not flitted through my mind. They may be few and far between but they have been there. Days when I haven’t felt like the pain in my heart might just break it into thousands of little pieces. 

None of those days have been recently though.

In fact these last six weeks have had you in my mind almost as much as the days that followed your departure.

Lately we have been to some truly beautiful parts of the country. Seen amazing bush landscapes that I just know you would have loved. In a few of them I swear I felt you right by my side.

But it has been more than just the landscape that has made me think of you. It has been this whole way of life. Living on the road, making do with as little as possible, the freedom of it all. No place to be or time to be there by. All of it, reminds me of you.

Then there are the other travellers. Particularly the men, that remind me of you. From the shoes and clothes that they wear to the colour of their greying hair. It all just makes me think of you. Especially the ones who have big bruises on their legs from their poor circulation and subsequent medication. Or the few that look like they have cataracts in their eyes. Weird I know but I just can’t help but notice all the similarities.

I don’t know why now, but the other day on our way home from a gorge my sense of loss at never seeing you again was so overwhelming silent tears began to roll down my cheeks. How I stopped myself from sobbing I know not. I think it was the thought of sharing my grief with the girls. 

The two oldest still miss you terribly as well. Lovely still holds it against me for not bringing her to say goodbye on that fateful day. Something for which I imagine I will be eternally sorry for. There was just no way I could have left you at the time. And really it was no place for her to be. Hopefully as the years pass by that will be something she can see.

As I typed this my eyes started to well. Though I promised myself I wouldn’t be too sad today. I know that is the last thing you would want. Anyway just before the tears started to roll this little fella flew in and started walking around my feet. Needless to say the tears were quickly wiped away and smile began to grow.

Oh dear daddy how I love you so xxx

The day my Dad died

Despite me thinking I had covered every possible way it could have happened, when it actually did happen, it was nothing like I had ever thought it would be. Nothing. But then I doubt death or anything to do with it is ever really like anyone thinks it will be.

There were hardly any machines or cords. It wasn't in some special care ward or anything like that. It was just an ordinary day in an ordinary ward. In fact out of all of the times I had ever been through it all, this was one of the times when I was least expecting it to happen.

I had been up the night before and driving to the hospital I saw one of the most amazing moons I have ever seen. I remember thinking that it was a beautiful moon to die under and that perhaps this wasn't going to be the quick visit I thought it was going to be.

I then told myself off for thinking such ridiculous thoughts. As if it were that time this time?

I had always assured myself that I would just know when it was going to happen. Because you know, we were all close and stuff and I secretly fancied myself as a psychic some days.

From there I started to wonder if really the moon was that impressive? Perhaps I had over estimated her beauty that night? And in fact it was just an ordinary moon and I just happened to catch it in the right light giving a false impression of what I was seeing.

Maybe I had in fact seen many more a spectacular moon and dad had been just fine? Tonight would be no different. Everything would we A OK.

Of course it was already different though.

This time I wasn't racing up in the middle of the night after being woken up from one of those dreaded calls. This time I was just casually driving up after he had been taken up earlier in the day. 

It was of a time when flu of the bird or swine, I can't really remember which, were prominent. I was in the early stages of pregnancy with Teapot and wasn't taking the risks associated with hanging in hospitals if I didn't need to.

Dad had been up and down for quite a few days before Mum insisted he go to the hospital. When Dad didn't object we knew we had to get him there quick, but still didn't think it was anything to be overly concerned about. Hence why all agreed it was best if I spent as little time in the hospital as possible.

When I got to the hospital the nurse offered me a face mask though assured me that they were currently clear of any real risks. I declined and she ushered me to Dad. 

He had an oxygen mask, a heart monitor and a drip attached. All the usual gaff really. His eyes lit up the moment I was in sight. He knew that it was a tough time of night what with dinners and bed time and you could see he truly appreciated me popping in.

As much as I didn't like being there it was hard to stay away when you knew your presence made such a difference. 

I sat and chatted for a while. Repeating the mundaneness of my day and whatever may have happened with the girls. Idle chit chat really. Just our general daily download. Which is one of the things I miss most about Dad not being here anymore. He was such a great listener. Even if he never gave much advice one way or another I always felt better just for having told him stuff. Any old stuff as well.

It was starting to get late and I decided to go home. Everything seemed to so fine. Well not fine because he was in hospital but yet I don't recall feeling much worry either.

As I left I promised to bring the paper and his glasses up first thing in the morning. It all seemed so ordinary.

Sometime after I left and before I returned Dad was transferred to an ordinary room in an ordinary ward because that is just how ordinary it all was. This also meant that first thing in the morning became more like 10am because that was the start of visiting hours on the ordinary ward.

When I got there at a little after 11. Dad was in a terrible mood. Grumpy at me because I had taken so long. I offered my feeble excuse and shrugged my shoulders. What was done was done and I thought no more of it.

Dad's mood got worse and I suddenly realised it wasn't because I was late. His pain had gone to whole new levels. Once that drugs couldn't take the edge off. Somewhere someone said to me that I should start gathering any family that was nearby.

I wasn't really sure what that meant but went and called my mother and suggested she call my brother. My sister now lived interstate so we decided it wasn't time to call her yet. I can't remember why but for some reason, even though it was only a little of three years ago, I didn't have my phone with me.

I distinctly remember scraping around the bottom of my bag looking for coins and hoping that the pay phone on that level worked. Which it did.

It felt like forever till Mum and Brother arrived. The joys of being gainfully employed I guess.

Before long we were moved to a private room. By this stage all the staff were kinder than kind. Soft voices, gentle smiles and light touches whenever they walked past us. A little rub on the arm or a pat on the back. Just anything to say there there it will be alright.

One nurse came in to say she was going on her tea break, would she like me to take my little one to the staff room so she could watch some TV and give us some space. She had been so perfect all day. Almost as if she knew.

Doctors and nurses would quietly walk in and out of the room. Not wanting to intrude on our final moments but also wanting to know when the last breath was taken.

By now Mr Awesome had also been called and Brother's wife-to-be was also there. We tried to make light hearted conversation but it didn't happen. Dad was drifting in and out of consciousness and there were no words that seemed right. We wanted him to know we were there but we didn't want to disturb him in any way.

Even though it felt like the whole day, it was actually all crammed into a few short hours. In fact it was all over by school pick up time. I am amazed at my ability to have just walked out of the hospital the same way I did any other visit and go pick up Lovely from school.

For now though this is one epic post and if by chance you have made it to the end thank you for sticking around.

32304 Hours

Today should have been my dad's 84th birthday. Instead it is 1346th day since he passed away. Which is 3 years 8 months and 7 days or 32304 hours. 

image from here

Yesterday I read this post.

It touches close to my heart in many ways. Especially on days like today.

Before dad died he had been sick for a while. Years in fact. Thinking back now I can't even remember when he wasn't sick. But then perhaps that is really just the joys of old age?

All things considered equally though dad had a great life. As much as the last ten years saw far too many rushed trips to hospital, emergency room visits and ambulance rides for all our liking, it also reminded us just how precious life is and what a gift it was to have dad around for as long as what we did.

Sitting in Intensive Care (ICU) next to someone you love dearly laying there with all manner of machines and plugs attached to them has a funny way of changing your perspective.

I lost count of how many times I made that trip to the hospital wondering, if this time were the last time?

How many times I stood there next to that bed.
My mother sitting alongside the bed.
My brother and sister awkwardly loitering on the other side of the bed.

And Dad on the bed.

Surrounded by those that loved him most and beeping machines, cords, drips who knows what else.

Each of us not wanting to be there, yet there being no where else we could be.

Dad had always made it quite clear that he would rather we put him out of his misery rather than prolong life artificially. Thankfully it never actually came down to that though we were asked on more than one occasion if we wanted medical staff to begin CPR if it were ever needed.

It is an awful conversation to have.

One that needs to be had though and not just with your dying father.

It goes hand in hand with organ donation. Your family and those that love you need to know your wishes should you ever be in a position that renders you unable to express them.

For a brief moment, I lived in place that legalised euthanasia. I was so proud of the bravery of the politicians and the voters for supporting such an important movement. Everyone has the right to die with dignity.

Sadly though I also live in a place that can have their laws overturned and the powers that be did so with the euthanasia bill. It broke my heart and I hung my head in shame. This post was supposed to talk more about that than my dad. Can't win them all though can you?

Do you support euthanasia?

Sometimes things just need to be said

As a blogger, perhaps even just as a person, there are things that I just need to say. Things that if I kept to myself it is quite possible that I may just implode. This is one of those posts. It's strange though, because as much as I want to share, as much as I need to share, the words aren't easy to come by.

There is this little voice saying don't worry about it Rhianna. They don't really need to know.

Which is true, maybe.

Surely if I need to say this as much as what I feel I need to, then you my dear readers need to hear it?

Only it is not just you that need to know what particularly crazy notions are flying around my pretty little head. There are people in the real world that would benefit from the knowledge I am about to share. In fact anyone that I come into contact with today may be better off if they knew as much about today as what I do.

Naturally I can no more verbally say what I need to than I can get it out in writing. Every time I try the words just seem to get stuck at the top of my throat. My eyes begin to well and every inch of my being goes into overdrive to stop myself  from dissolving into a flood of tears. Instead a torrent silent runs down my cheeks.

Three years ago today, my life changed. And not really in a good way. It was one of those chapter changeovers, one ending and another beginning, if you know what I mean.

The day that I had spent many a years fearing and dreading, eventually occurred.

My Dad died. Today is the third anniversary of the passing of my muchly loved dad.

There, I said it.
Man it sucks.

Really really sucks.

To say I miss him is an understatement. As everyone who has lost someone dear to them knows, there are no words that adequately describe the emotions of death.

For the most part I can go around my daily life coping just fine with it all. He was an old man who had lived a wonderful life. His last years was full of illness and pain and his passing finally brought relief to all of that. As much as I miss him, I loved him more and watching him go through what he did I can find comfort in the fact that he is no longer suffering.

Every now and then it all gets a bit much for me though and the sadness of no longer having an earthside father tears me to shreds.

Today is one of those days.

Fresh Horses Brigade - Funeral Song

After such a great response to last week's FHB over at Edenland I spent most of this week wondering what this week's topic would be.  When I saw what it was I must admit I was just a little disappointed.


Now to be quite truthful with you I have never really stopped to think about my funeral in any shape or form.  In fact I have never even really given much time to the concept of me actually dying.  It is not that I don't think it will happen.  Of course it will.  Death is one of the few things that comes with some certainty.  There is also a fair bit of uncertainty about it all as well so I would prefer just put it in the don't want to know basket.
After all it will make little to no difference to me what goes on to celebrate my life, after I have left it.  Given the success (or lack there of) for some of my birthday parties, I wouldn't expect the turn out to my funeral to be anything spectacular.  Unless of course between now and then I do something amazing that touches thousands....
When it comes to funerals I am a little torn.  Apart from dad's funeral a few years ago I have never had to help plan one.  I hope that it is a long time before I ever have to go through that again and there weren't even high levels of family conflict.  We all just seemed to know and agree on the right way to say goodbye.
The songs we chose were Amazing Grace (with words and bagpipes which is not easy to find), CCR Down on the Corner and a marching band version of When the Saints Go Marching In.  My mother would probably have preferred to have something other than Down on the Corner but she was grossly outvoted and she knew it.  My brother, sister and I felt that dad would not have wanted us moping around so we tried to make it as cheery as possible.
However songs like the Sesame Street tune at a two week old babies funeral is far from cheery.  Standing in the back rows of a full room thinking of all the things a little life will never get to lead...Four weeks before our wedding, the best man's wife went into early labour.  To this day I am in awe of how they took it all in their stride.  I praise the Lord and thank the Powers That Be, that I know not of that pain.
But back to what songs I would have at my funeral.
I guess it could be rather fitting to play this one
I mean it is nearly like my name and all.  
Funnily enough though I had not even heard of it till I was nearly 21.  Shocking I know.  I can still remember the handsome young fellow (not hubs though he is a handsome fellow) who took me into his flash surround sound thearter setup.  Which for the time was rather impressive and not as widespread as it is these days.  It was a surreal feeling.  Sitting there.  My heart a flutter being in this young man's presence.  Anticipating what was to come next.  
I had been longing for his attention for a while you see.  So having him serenade me if you will with Stevie Nicks singing a song about my name (which essentially made the song about me)....well you can just imagine the rest.
Perhaps it is not so fitting to have this played after all.
Unfortunately though that is the best I can come up with at this stage.  I hope that my death is still a long way away, giving me plenty of time to contemplate the best way to encourage those that love me to celebrate the passing of my life.  I do have a few details already worked out.  Like the fact that I don't want any black.  I would much rather bright colours and rainbows than morbid and black.
Oh and that if time permits I will have a live wake as well.  When my dad turned 76 we had a massive party and invited all the people we expected to come to his funeral.  We called it a live wake.  It was one of the most wonderful parties I have ever been too.  At the time dad had been rather unwell so there was a very real chance that a real wake wasn't too far round the corner.  Dad couldn't bear the thought of us having a party without him so we had it while he could join in.  
What about you?   Have you thought about what your funeral would look like?   Head on over to Edenland and see what others have said

Things I Know - My Dad

Yay for Friday!  Yay for Home! and most importantly Yay for my Dad!  This week my TIK post is all about things I know about my dad.  The last few posts this week have all been about Dad.  Yesterday was the second anniversary of his passing and this was my way of coping with it all.

I know that I still miss dad much more than I think most people around me realise.

I know that I am glad he is no longer in pain and he has gone to a better place and all that jazz.  Still doesn't stop me missing him.

I know that people deal with death and remembering the dead in different ways and that is OK.  I hope that other people remember that as well.  I know that I have trouble being near some family members in times of grief as I want to be the saddest.  Selfish I know but some times we need to put ourselves first and this is one of those times for me.

I know that the photos I wanted to take last night were not nearly as good as the ones I took last year.  Last year when we went to have dinner with dad (chinese take away where we scattered his ashes) I took these stunners

This year I have none.  We got there late and missed sunset.  I also didn't have my camera, I had been hoping to try out the camera qualities on my new to me iPhone (used to be hubs).  I was particularly keen to try instagram only for some reason it all seemed not to work.

I know that helping DD2 come to terms with this whole death thing is not always easy.  She is always talking about dad and how much she misses him.  Last night she was devastated because all she wanted was a kiss and a cuddle from her grampa.  It.Broke.My.Heart.  What I would give for one as well.

I know that when I put my status yesterday as I like you a bit you know only my brother and sister would have known that it was something dad used to say to us.

I know that there is a part of me that feels a little guilty for carrying on about my dead dad.  After all, he was old and sick and had lead a wonderful life.  There are mothers out there grieving over their lost children.  Precious new little lives lost before they had a chance to live.  Thankfully there is another part of me that has the common sense to go yes those lost little lives are sad, but that doesn't stop you (me) from also feeling sad about no longer having my dad with us.

I know that this is probably enough for now.

I know that if you want to read more things that people know you should head on over to Shae's.  Click the button and it will take you right there

Thankful Thursday - My Dad

Today is the second anniversary of dad's passing.

I remember thinking two years ago it will get easier with time.  I remember thinking last year I wonder when it will get easier with time?  This year I am not really ready to say it has gotten easier with time.  It hasn't gotten any harder but I am not sure that it is really easy yet either.  Regardless it is only fitting that today's thankful post be all about my dad, because Lord knows there is so much about him that I will always be eternally thankful for.

To start with I am thankful for the simple fact that he was my dad and he loved me with all his heart.  Something that I will never ever doubt.  Regardless of what happened I always knew he was there for me.  Always.

I am thankful that he (and of course mum) brought me up to be the caring, considerate and generous person that I am.  He was always there to help a mate in need and made sure that all his kids were the same.

I am thankful that even after a hard day at work he still had time to sit and talk and cuddle and play.  I am thankful that he had such a strong work ethic and always made sure that he had earnt his day's pay and instilled the same in me.  I am thankful that at some points in my childhood I got to go and help him at work.  It made me feel so grown up and useful.  I treasure those memories with all my heart.

I am thankful that I was able to have my dad walk me down the isle and give me away to the man I loved.  I am thankful also that our marriage had his blessing and when he went he knew that I was with someone who would love and care for me.

I am thankful that at least the two older girls got to know dad and were of an age when he passed that they will be able to remember him.  What I really am thankful for though is that he got to know them.  In the final years DD2 and I spent a lot of time with dad.  The look on his face when we would walk in the door was priceless.  You really could see it lift his spirits.  More treasured memories I will hold onto for ever.

As sad as I am about dad no longer being with us I am thankful that he was with us for as long as what he was.  Eighty years is a long time to walk the earth, I hope I get to last that long (and maybe a bit more actually).  I am also thankful that when it was time for him to go it was relatively quickly.  I am not sure I could have watched him suffer any more than what he did.

Finally I am thankful that now, two years on I am slowly able to talk about him without a flow of water works.  I still get teary but it is much better than what it was.

So what are you thankful for this Thursday?

R U OK?

Tomorrow (Thursday Sept 15th)  Is R U Ok? Day.  Lots of my favourite blogs have been discussing the topic and sharing some very moving stories about why it is important to take the time to ask if someone is really ok.  Head over to Gorgeous Gemma at My Big Nutshell for a full round up.
I have spent nearly two weeks deciding on whether I should write an R U Ok? post.  
For the most part I really am ok and always have been, but notice I said for the most part.  It is hard to explain but I almost feel as if I have no right to be part of the conversation as really my life is just so damn awesome, well aside from the odd pothole here and there, but nothing really to ever complain about.
I genuinely feel blessed with all I have.  I have been fortunate enough to escape many of life's pitfalls and the troubles I have had have always been over come and left me feeling stronger than ever before.  I have no right to not be ok.  I have a husband that loves me, would do anything for me and just happens to be all round awesome (most of the time)  I have three wonderful children that are happy and healthy and thriving with life.  I have a wonderful supportive extended family, a fantastic community based school, a handful of close friends who I think would do anything for me and I haven't even started on the list of material things I have.  How could I not be ok?
When my father passed away I felt so alone.  Totally and utterly alone.  My devastation was insurmountable.  I had feared this day for more years than I care to remember.  I was also 3 months pregnant.  As a result I refused to let myself grieve.  I was worried that my baby would come out sad if I spent my pregnancy crying over my dead father.
I also convinced myself that my mother, brother and sister's grief was of more importance than mine so again what right did I have not to be ok?  Not only that but I had two little girls to take care of.  Not to mention the growing bump.  I just had  to be OK.
Somehow I got through the next six months and my baby was born and appeared just as happy as what the other two were so ignoring my grief had been all worth it.  By now however I was so good at not  letting myself be sad about dad that I couldn't see the point in bringing it all up.  
The start of October will mark two years since his passing.  Naturally I still think about him all the time.  In fact I have learnt not to do my shopping the same days as the old men in the neighbourhood as I generally come home in tears those days.  On father's day I went to buy his favourite chocolate bar, only to find they no longer sell it.  I came home in tears then.  Actually I was in tears well before I got home.  It was but moments away at the chocolate isle.
Does all of this not make me ok though?  Or is this just the way I need to deal with a tough, unchangeable situation that at the end of the day is just a part of life?
I know that two years ago when he passed very few people ever asked me if I was ok.  If they did I probably said of course and smiled and carried on as that is what I am like.  I know that the person who would probably be considered my best friend in the real world never once mentioned it.  Now I also know that is not entirely her fault, she was faced with a situation she didn't know how to deal with.  She was faced with a situation she had never experienced nor really seen anyone else experience.  But still what if she had of asked...just once.  
So where does this all leave me now?
Honestly I am not sure.  At least now I have an R U Ok? post  I also feel a little lighter for sharing.  Though I also have a small voice going this isn't even close to not being Ok.  Not being Ok is when you want to slit your wrists and stuff like that.  But you know what?  Little voice you are wrong.  This is how not being OK starts.  Just because my troubles might not be as terrible as someone else's it doesn't mean they are any less worthy.  That applies to everyone.  Don't let little problems turn into big ones.
So please if you can think of anyone for any reason that might not be OK go and ask them.  You could be the one that makes the difference.  Which is much better than being the one that your friend makes excuses for.
If you aren't OK, which is more than OK go here for more information.

Carols

The other night the family and I went along to the Carols by Candlelight. Christmas is one of my favourite times of the year and each year Carols signify the start of the wonderful festive season.

As we entered through the gates with thousands of other happy families we were greeted by the sound of the pipes and drums band. The sound they can create is truly magical and I could listen to well played bagpipes for hours on end.

As I walked past I admired their kilts and wondered from which clans they were from. As a descendant from the Campbells I am always interested in the various tartans and the family behind them. I briefly thought of my dad.

We got ourselves settled and started eating our picnic dinner while we waited for the show to begin. Looking down from our seats on the hill I could see the pipes and drum band reassembling and preparing to march on stage. They truly are talented to be able to play and walk at the same time. They started playing Waltzing Matilda. I could feel my eyes start to well with tears. One because it sounded so beautiful and two because I was reminded of my dad. I knew how much he would have loved to have heard it. I wanted to tell my girls how much he would have loved it but I couldn't. The words would just not leave my mouth, unlike the tears that were now rolling down my cheeks. I really miss my dad. No like really, really, really miss him.

To top things off once the band made it on stage and finished the unofficial Australian anthem they began to play Amazing Grace. By now I was a blubbering mess. (Much like I am as I try to write this out) This was one of the songs played at Dad's funeral. And to the credit of the band they did a beautiful job, far better actually than the version we found for dad.

My darling angle of a three year old was the only person to notice my sadness. Bless her little heart. Her questions as to why mummy was sad just made the tears fall faster. It was all fixed though with the cuddle and kiss she gave me after I explained to her how the beautiful music made me think of granpa and how much he would have liked to have heard it. It never ceases to amaze me that even at her tender young age she can be so understanding. Children really are a treasure and often underestimated.

The rest of the evening was magical. It filled me with the warmest fuzziest feeling I have felt for a long time. There is something special about sitting around with candles and singing songs.

Credit for the photo goes to budog who you can find more about here

24 Hours and counting

Well not really counting but that is how long it has been. Not surprisingly it has not gotten easier yet. I know that eventually it will, I sorta wish that was now though. Patience has never been a strong point.

We went to the funeral home today and began organising the service. It was a somewhat surreal experience and one I am glad I haven't previously been through and certainly one I hope I don't have to repeat any time soon.

Everything was quite fitting though. From the boney old man with the drawn out face to lounges with red velvet cushions and the dark wood finishing, there was no doubt as to where we were. Even the director fitted in perfectly with her black satin top and thin strand of pearls hanging loosely from her neck. Her soft voice with a slight English accent was soothing yet irritating at the same time. She failed however to give much direction. While I thought we were easily accommodating, I guess perhaps we were not really the ideally customers.

After all we had no idea of what was supposed to happen or what the choices were that needed to be made. In fact all we really know is that our father/husband had passed and we wanted to get him put to rest as soon as possible. About the only thing we could agree on was the fact we wanted it all over with as quickly as possible.

Unfortunately for us dad left no indication as to any wishes that he had towards the matter. Actually that is not entirely true. He had made it quite clear that he did not care one way or another what we did, after all, he was dead, what did it matter to him!

Every new begining comes from some other beginings end

So the day that in some ways I feel I have been waiting for most of my adult life finally arrived today. One would think that after all the anticipation I would have some idea of what it would be like, but of course I had none.

I have spent many hours trying to imagine what it would be like, only truth be told no one could really predict such things, well not unless they were psychic and sadly I am not. In fact I am far from it. None of the scenarios my mind had previously created for the event bared any resemblance to the way in which it finally occurred, other than of course the final out come. And to tell you the truth of all the days I thought it would happen, today wasn't even one of them. In fact only this morning I was chirping at how well he was doing.

For those yet to work out what I am rambling about I guess I best just come out and say it. My father passed away this afternoon.

It is still all a bit of a blur really, which I imagine is only to be expected. You may in fact be wondering why after only seven and a half hours of coming to terms with it all I am even here. For me it seems the most sensible place to be. Actually ever since it happened my mind has been spinning with words that would create this post. Naturally now though my previously full brain is now not much more than an empty nest.

So on that note I might leave it for now, rest assured though I will be back. There is still much to share, like how I will adjust to life without my father. My days pretty much revolved around seeing him. Helping my two precious daughters cope with their grief will not be easy. They may not understand the concept of death but they know how much it hurts to be told they will never see their grampa again. Part of me thinks that as much as I will gain strength from them both, I will need it to pass straight to them. Time will tell and thankfully with time all will heal.

Death

Not exactly a lighthearted topic and generally not something that dinner table conversation is privy to. In fact, there are not many times when death is a welcomed topic for discussion. For me death is often in the forefront of my mind and has been for as long as I can remember.

I guess I should take a moment to clarify a few minor details.

When I say that death is on the forefront of my mind I actually mean that one of my first thoughts everyday is I wonder if today is the day he will finally be put to rest. I refer of course to my father.

I can not really recall the first time I had such a thought and I must say that it is only in recent times that it has reached near daily appearances. Which when you consider his current state of health is not really surprising.

When I was younger I guess it would have been fair to say that I feared the answer. My father is much older than my mother. In fact my father's first born is actually two weeks older than my mother. Not understanding the complete workings of the world I just assumed that old people died and I my dad has always been older than most.

Now however I think the day that the answer becomes yes would be a relief.

Don't get me wrong I love my father more than words here could ever explain. Not seeing him every day will be hard to adjust to and there will be a huge hole in my life for a while when he does finally pass, but watching the pain and suffering he is currently enduring is worse.

I can not begin to explain what it is like. Watching the man I have idolised for life become decrepit and frail. The one person who I truly saw as unbeatable. A tower of strength and power that few would ever be able to attain, slowly, and painfully fading away and falling to pieces.

Photo credits to Dimitri Castrique who I found on stock.xchng after searching the term death

Has it really been 3 weeks?

Part of me feels it has been much longer, while another part struggles to think it has not been very long at all. Either it is still not exactly what you could call regular. Mind you if you were a regular reader I am sure this post would seem pretty average as it is the start of most of my posts (when ever I manage to get them up!)

Where have I been? What have I been doing? I hear you all cry. I wish that I could say I have been jet setting around the countryside or sailing the high seas but sadly that is not the case, no exciting adventures to report back with. In fact there are not even any boring ones! None the less I do have a beautiful story to share. In fact this experience has touched me so much I tried to create something new.

So what happened?

Well firstly my Dad, thought he was having a stroke so he called an ambulance. He rang me also to let me know what was going on. Did I mention that this was at 1.30am? No? Well it was. Anyway I went to his house and then followed the ambulance to the hospital. As it turned out they didn't believe there was any cause for concern but given his age, and medical history it wasn't worth the risk.

Once I was sure that Dad was all comfortably settled I headed home (even I need some sleep). As I headed out the hospital doors two women asked me if I could give them a ride home. Naturally I agreed. No one leaving the hospital in the early hours of the morning is ever having a great time and it was still another four or so hours till the first bus would be. It was the least I could do really. I have been chemically designed so that when I am at my lowest I feel inclined to help so all in all it was a winning situation all round.

While my father was not having a stroke it did turn out that he had an infection and needed medical treatment. Which also meant that he would be staying in hospital for a few days. Thankfully the hospital is fairly nearby. On one of my visits though I locked my keys in the car. Which is strange in more than one way. You see I rarely lock my car. Why I did on this day I am not really sure.

Cutting right to the chase. (I know I can ramble on a times and I fear that I was about to start!

A beautiful person, no angel, stopped and offered to drive me home to get some spare keys to solve my problem! When she pulled up and offered I nearly fell over. I couldn't believe that such kindness existed, but I assure you it does.