Mourning a future that never was……

You know that old American story of Ma and Pa rocking away on their porch or verandah in their seventies and eighties, chatting about the “days of old” and how different the world used to be “back in our day…..” Damn I wanted that cheesy ending in my life. Trent and I used to say when we moved away from our first home, that we’d have a garage or a rumpus room with a pool table, a bar fridge, a dart board and when we were really doing well, a beer tap set up coming out the front of the fridge. Yup. We were “those kind of people.” I’m fairly sure the term “Bogan” pops into your heads when you speak of couples like that, but if that’s what a Bogan does, then I’m proud to be one. I could have happily spent the rest of my days working, raising the kids, having a yearly holiday somewhere nice, and spending weekends with the fam eating off the BBQ and playing pool with mates after a few bevvies on the deck. It’s a pretty simple thing…. that a lot of us want, but I wonder how may get it? I loved my time out with the girls, and Trent loved his time out with the boys, but this only made our time together more wonderful. We never smothered each other….. I never required him to come home from a party with me if he was drinking and having a ball and I had to take the kids home to bed. I was happy for him to spend one night a week with his crew in Cranny, drinking and jamming and smoking to his hearts content….. I would have a night a week to catch up with the gals, drink, play pool or just see a chick flick. He even went to Thailand for ten days with his bestie, and six months later I did the same with one of mine. You can’t get a more healthy and fair relationship than that. From day dot we split the feeds, the bedtime runs, the nappy changes, the dishes, cooking and housework if we were both working….. we shared our money from the moment we shared a house, there was nothing of his that wasn’t mine, and nothing of mine that wasn’t his. I can’t imagine ever having a relationship again that is any other way……. which just might mean I never have another. As awful as it is, I wish all the time that any of my other crappy ex partners was the one that had to die. I want to mourn the man that was, but be able to move on with my life. But how you do that when the man you lost was more than you could ever have hoped for? There will be no other like him, and I can honestly say that I am not trying to immortalise him as some God that he bloody well wasn’t just to have you all see that he was incredible. I don’t need to…… If you ever had the pleasure of meeting the man, he spoke for himself. Every moment that I experience with the kids that puts a smile on my face, I still immediately go to turn towards him and share that pure look of bliss and happiness. If he’s not there I grab my phone to text him…….. When the hell does that stop? It’s already been nineteen months. On Friday Rubes did her first ever TV commercial….. I was so proud my head could have exploded… and I got the urge so many times that day to text him an update, or send him a picture of how beautiful she looked. Then on Sunday at Poppy’s birthday celebration I watched her run crazily from ride to ride to ride without her Dad in tow, which was the norm at Luna Park…… he adored that place as much as the kids. In fact his last outing ever was there for Ruby’s 9th birthday. We pushed him around in a wheelchair all night in the rain…… even though he couldn’t use crutches because of the sheer pain he was in from the surgery on his ankle nearly three weeks before, he refused to miss her birthday and came anyway. It was Saturday the 20th of July 2013….. and I will never forget that night. It poured, the kids got drenched, we had to park him under the only shelter near the entrance to the Scenic railway, and we’d take it in turns to hang with him…… I bought him a hot chocolate at one point and we sat and chatted about how ridiculous it was that he was there unable to join in on the fun….. and how silly it was that he’d broken his ankle pissed as a fart in the first place. The kids kept going and sitting on his lap for cuddles as they knew how much he wanted to join in. God I wish I’d known then that he would die three days later…… God knows what we would have said….. I just know I wish we’d had the chance. When I read back through our bazillion emails to each other over the years, there is enough cheesy, beautiful messages from him to last me a lifetime. It doesn’t make it easier, but I’m glad he was so open with his emotions. So much so that it was him that dragged my emotions out when we first met. I was in self protection mode for Ruby and myself, and I wouldn’t budge on that….. he just told me how he felt and kept on telling me until I couldn’t help but say it back. Cause I damn well meant it. The big multi roomed house with a view, the caravan with the nice interior, a seven seated car and overseas trips…… these were on the top of our “things to do before we die” list. Unfortunately I got them all in the space of six months, instead of forty years, simply because he died. What a fucking sick joke…. to be given everything you ever wished for together, with the only catch being “you can’t have it together.” I’ll forever mourn our incredible past. It was the best nine or so years of my life. Easily. I got to raise two beautiful girls with him….. I got to buy my first house with him, we shared the experience of our first dachshund together, he supported me through my going back to study a Diploma in Community Services, and we experienced our most pure and honest of relationships together. The past will always be in my memory bank…. those things can never be taken from me, ever. But what that negligent hospital has done, is take what was potentially an incredible future that we totally deserved to have together as a family, away from us. What price can you put on your baby not having her Daddy there to walk her down the aisle? Or see her graduate high school? Or do an embarrassing speech at her 21st? Or scare the shit out of her potential boyfriends? What Price can you put on taking away the ability for a kid to have a normal and healthy childhood, and instead fill it with therapy sessions, and grief groups, and teasing, and anxiety about everything to sadness and the general daily feeling that there’s something enormous missing from the picture. The loss of a future together, is the greatest loss of all. Second only to losing your life at 37. Just when it was starting to get really good. x

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