Why I blog……….. (Safe to read!)

I realised recently after talking to a close friend that my blogs can be brutal…… true… honest….. (almost incriminatingly honest) but brutal…. and they can make some people feel…. well sad. It was not my intention when I started writing after I lost Trent, I just couldn’t save my emotions up and disperse them in my one hour session a week with my psychologist.  I came from an outtie not an innie family. Not belly buttons, but openness. So just as some families can’t get out what they’d wish to say, I can’t keep mine in.  Then I just happened to have what seemed to me to be an extraordinary time in life…… so much so that I could not keep it inside my almost close to exploding mind. So I started writing. At first it was the brutal truth about what had happened in the three weeks leading up the 23rd of July 2013, clearly the worst time I’ve had in my life…… I had to put it into words as I could not believe what I had witnessed, and did not believe it to be really happening. But then it just continued, as did everyone else’s lives….. and when you lose someone so enormous in your family, your life as it was stops dead in it’s tracks. So I don’t know when the writing will stop, but just as it began, I will know when I am done. It has been like a therapy  that no one person could have given me, and a year and a half after I started it and released it into the universe, you all became my therapists in a way. Your little messages of strength and offers of support have guided me through an otherwise impossible situation, so for this I will be forever grateful.  Today is a beautiful day for many….. and a horrendously sad one for others. My life can now be segmented into “Happy days” and Crappy day.” I am happy because today I get to share the day with my kids, and without my beautiful man I would not have them. I also get to share the day with my Mum. I am so lucky she is still here, and although I have experienced loss, I still can’t imagine life without her.  Since starting the support group I am in, I have met so many kids that have lost their Mums. Way too young. For me this brings such sadness as I know they will wrap their presents and take them to a cemetery, or lay some flowers in front of a candle, or let a message go with a balloon into the heavens….and will not be able to lie in her lap, or cuddle her and thank her for giving birth to them. To all those Mums that are no longer here,  I will have a special moment for them today, and their families that are left behind. For me, I am spending my last day here at Mums with the kids, before I head off on my European adventure, which sadly would not be happening if my man were still here. I am still very grateful, and although a little trepidatious, I will be sure to suck in every moment that I get while away, for I know how lucky I am to be going.  The girls as you may have read in my past blogs, have not really coped too well with my leaving. My baby, Poppy (8) has particularly suffered and her anxiety (which she never had before Trent dying) has become so severe that even with the help of some medication and therapy has not dealt with my leaving her. Apart from just being furious that she will not be able to come and cuddle me when she wants, she knows I can’t promise her that I will come back in one piece. It has been a  tough three months as her anxiety is mostly anger, and she begged me last night to stay….. not to leave her, and how could I do this to her at  the age of 8 when she’d already lost one parent? You cannot reason with a child whose Daddy was there one day, and gone the very next. Of course my guilt could sink a battle ship. But when Mum suggested just months after Trent died that I should put some money away and go to Ireland like I’d dreamed my whole life…. and that if I wanted to leave the kids, I needed to do it while she and my Dad were still young  enough to help.  We planned it for last year, but a year after his death seemed too soon for the kids…. who knew a year later they’d cope even less? I know only too well that life is not predictable.  A couple of weeks ago we attended a Grief Camp. It was incredibly draining both emotionally and physically, but was run like a tightly wound clock and by the most incredible and wonderful group of volunteers I have ever had the pleasure of meeting. The young adults that ran the kids section were so brilliant they even got my Ruby on side. If you don’t capture her attention in the first five minutes, she is like a horrible haggler at a comedy show….. she will make you wish you never got up there! But this particular guy had her at hello….. he was so funny. I couldn’t hide my smile while he was around… he had worked at Camps all over the world, and had a witty answer to every cheeky question that Rubes threw at him, so she became his offsider instead of his worst nightmare.  Even Poppy who recently wouldn’t allow anyone to take her away from me, after the first session wasn’t even hanging around to wave us parents off as we were taken to a separate venue in town all day, both days. Brilliant. She became best mates with a stunning little Indian/Fijian/Australian 6 year old who had lost her Mum, and her Dad was the only male in our parents group, poor bugger. But we were both so happy to see our little girls laughing and smiling, and cuddling each other constantly……. they were inseparable, and cried when they had to leave each other on the Sunday.  Rubes met a flurry of cool kids that were crazy and fun just like herself, and it was just nice to see them be kids. Such a rarity to see them do simple everyday things like running around, exploring the bush, following kangaroos, playing on play equipment and not being attached to a screen of some sort. They had a candle ceremony for their lost parent, and had photos of them that they put next to the candle. Rubes broke down and it was amazing to hear her wall start to crumble. It is a rather large one, and her emotions about Trent don’t flow out as easily as all of ours. A tiny breakthrough perhaps. So it’s been a crazy few months, couple of years and and an even crazier few weeks…. but I have made it through with the girls to Mothers day, and nearly to the day I board my plane. I am relieved, excited, exhausted, scared and strangely calm that it is here. Bring on the trip, I do know I deserve it….. and so I shall grab that old bull by the horns, and lets hope my next blog is nothing but a happy one! Happy Mothers day all. xxx

Ps Thanks to my folks, my Mum in law and my Sis in law for taking my gals for me! Without you all I would not be going at all. xxxxx



22 Months……..

Dad at Halloween in Belgrave

Yup….. it’s been almost a full two years since the big man fell out of my life. Worst days, weeks, months, years I’ve had in my 37 years on this Earth…. and it refuses to get better, instead it’s throwing daily and weekly challenges at me to see how I’ll cope. I feel like one of those games at a carnival where people are desperately trying to knock down the weighted metal canisters……. and it’s really only a matter of time.  Today in the short space of dropping to school a totally happy Poppy (who had a farm excursion) and Ruby who was excited about having Casey over after school for a “hang out” and then me driving the ten minutes to work, I’d barely sat with my cuppa before I had a hysterical call from Ruby at “home” howling that she’d gotten to school to be immediately shot down by Casey (an on again off again “frenemy” type friend) because of her hair style, then she proceeded to tell all the girls in front of Ruby that she’d had her phone on the weekend  and had read all the bitchy comments that Rubes had written about them all over the last six months. (She failed to mention she’d been reciprocating the bitchiness back to Rubes about them all……) Rubes begged them crying to tell them what she’d written as even she couldn’t remember….. but they all refused and walked off, so Rubes ran into class and grabbed her bag apparently yelling “I’m going to home to commit suicide…..” on her way out the door. So the teacher called the vice principal, and the vice principal called the police, and then whilst on the phone to Rubes the vice principal is calling me to say the police are on their way…… not realising I’m not home with Ruby, but at work! I call everyone in the area and get a mate over asap….. and she arrives just after the police where Ruby is sitting calmy and telling them about her being bullied. Bec jumps in and says “to be fair Rubes, you’ve spent the last two weeks inseparable……. and only today has it turned bad for you…..” which is totally right. I speak to the police officer who has the same name as my Mum, and she is totally lovely and asks if I’d like her to go and talk to the girls at school. I of course agree thinking it will scare Casey into behaving differently……. yeah right. Not a chance….. They come out of the principals office and as Rubes said “We both just got the bullying lecture…. and that’s it.” No  repercussion from the school, no calling Caseys family (even though there are no parents at home, the 22 and 24 year old brothers should surely be notified….. So she stays home for the day, and blow me down with a feather…. guess who turns up after school for her play date? Casey!!!!! Like nothing has occurred, like she didn’t insult the shit out of Rubes, or dob her in for messages she had sent in anger in the past…… and Bec is so gobsmacked she can’t speak….. and Rubes sits her down to have a chat about how they really can’t be friends anymore…… She is surprised………. is that the personality of a sociopath? A multiple or borderline personality disorder? I’m sure it’s not just plain normal….. Even after my sister in law and I stomped around all day angrily at Ruby and Casey on what would have been Trent’s 39th b’day on the 8th of April, she did not get the message that we didn’t want her here. Even after Lex screamed at them to stop singing karaoke and jumping up and down while the rest of the house was grieving…….. and I screamed in front of Casey that Rubes was NEVER to invite a mate over on such a day where we spend it only with Trent’s mates and family……  she still stares blankly off into the distance and later says “Emma, can I stay for the party?”  What? the gathering where we all talk and cry and remember what life was like when Trent was still in it? That party? Are you fucking kidding me? So I didn’t leave work today….. even though I should have. I am back on casual and have only one shift lined up next week for four hours….. and then a trip to Europe on the 11th. I cannot afford to go home and deal with this conundrum…….. because it’s a monthly event in this house (apart from the cops of course…….) In the last month she has threatened to take her own life many times….. mostly when she has not gotten what she wanted out of me, friends, teachers, online….. she’s googled how to do it properly however, like what to think about while you finish yourself off…… who does that at age 11? I think three months of Poppy’s severe anxiety has taken over and she’s not the centre of attention anymore……. even though the attention she gets is not positive mostly as she’s in trouble a lot….. it’s still better than none right? I don’t know….. I’d take the none, but then I’m not an 11 year old with ODD/ADHD and Aspergers who is desperately trying to fit into a word that does not have the right space for her, and all whilst trying NOT to grieve one of her favourite people on Earth. Quote from Rubes when I try and get her to talk about him – “If you make me talk about him Mum, I will not survive losing him. I will not survive my childhood.” A tiny bit too clued on in some departments, and naive as hell in others. (Say in social skills and how to keep a friend for two weeks or more…….) Arrrrrrgrhgggggggggggggggggghhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!!!!! What the hell else can I do Mother Earth? My life already revolves around them, and apart from being the worst person on Earth for taking three and a half weeks off from being the grieving widow and mother of two grieving kids in two weeks….. I think i’m doing all I can???? Tonight she has not only asked in hysteria, but begged me to send her to another school NOW…….. to anywhere but were she is at, if only for the final six or so months left of primary school so she doesn’t have to face a bunch of kids that probably won’t even remember tomorrow how they made her feel today…….. She has told me she will take her life if I don’t…. and that’s final. Poppy who lay by and listened intently begged me to do it so she doesn’t lose her sister as well as her Dad. WTF? If Trent knew his babies would be going through such hell 22 months after his death, he’d had moved the heavens to stay on earth. And although I know it’s not my fault that they are not coping, and being nasty to me, and others…… who else do you blame when  kid behave so disgustingly that you think “Where the hell is that kids parent……. her behaviour is disgraceful…..” not knowing her serious internal pain, or confusion at why life chose her to have all these disorders that are invisible to everyone other than her close family and friends……. and just so happen to present in such a way that they make her seem too smart to not know any better…. so surely she means everything she says and does….? And surely she’s not really “on the spectrum?” She seems so normal! Ummmmm…… not at home in her safety zone, not online where she feels invincible………. not when she’s “performing” which is every  minute of every day in the public eye……. Aspie girls are notoriously amazing at hiding their shitty social skills till they are tired or let their guard down one day and then the people around her see her oddities… her OCD behaviours…. her anxiety that everything and anything will kill her…….. I am just SO FUCKING TIRED. And I mean for the kids……,. yes I am exhausted from the kids, but I am exhausted on their behalves also.  What a tragic thing to experience at 6 & 10, but to then go on and suffer continuously from the event and everything else that sucks and surrounds them in their lives, it’s just too damn much. I am beyond happy that they have this trip to Disneyland coming up in December…… but it’s the first of many “band aid fix ups” in their lives that will please them immensely as they experience it….. but then what? Back to reality? It’s not the best destination for the three of us right now…….. La La land sounds so much more appealing…………. xxxxxxxxx

The Happiest Place on Earth……

IMG_0750 IMG_0743 IMG_0740   IMG_0594 IMG_0520  IMG_0329

Last night I did something I’m not overly proud of….. I went and bought booze at ten to nine because I felt like…. like I really needed it. I went through a stage of drinking every night after Trent died….. but I have been too tired and trying too hard to get things right with the girls, that I have pulled back and kept it to a couple of nights a week. For the most part, I get it right. I waited last night for my respite lady to come so I could go to yoga. She never arrived. So I was all pumped up and ready to go, and just that simple little thing sent me on a downward spiral. Next thing I know I’m going through old photo’s…..  granted I was looking at them because I wanted to make the girls a t-shirt with mine and Trenton’s faces on them, so they can literally “take” us to bed with them when I’m in Europe. Even Ruby walked past and said “What are you doing to yourself Mum?” Obviously I couldn’t tell her, but then she must have seen my face. Then I told her to lock the door and I raced to the bottle-o. I came home and blogged. (Sadly I didn’t save it and the entire blog was lost…..) It has been my saviour in some ways, because I can go to it day and night. I have started back with a new psychologist for myself finally, but really there is not much time for me. I have the girls having separate psych appointments weekly, I just finished seven weeks in a row of Rubes’ completing a full re assessment in Clayton with a whole team of psychologists, and I’ve been trying to squeeze in two yoga classes a week for my body and my mind. (While trying to finish a jewelery making class I started in Feb!) This is all on my two days off……. Next weekend we are going on a “grief camp” in Anglesea with “Wombats Wish” and it has been a crazy time to say the least. But it’s working….. sort of. So I was “really” needing that class last night….. and not getting it put me in a right shit of a mood. It’s the only thing I’ve convinced Poppy to let me do at the moment, because with her severe anxiety, I am not aloud out of her sight… unless it’s going to work and school. She has started her full grieving. The psych said it’s wonderful, and it is great to hear her talk about him and remember wonderful things…. but it’s exhausting and draining for her, so she cannot let me leave the house without her. My Thursday night out stopped a month ago, and she has literally begged me not to leave her if I can help it. She came out to a close mates fundraiser on Saturday night…. my friends weren’t even starting to play till nine ish. She may have seen a couple of songs, then she was asleep with her head on my sisters lap, and that was that for the rest of the night. Rubes sat on the couch on the side near the stage and played on he phone all night until she fell asleep at eleven thirty. I must say I’ve never been one to mix my kids with late night gigs! I guess I’ve always been lucky that Mum and Dad would take them so I could separate my time as Emm, with my time as Mum. We still had a fabulous night, and it was awesome to get up and sing a couple of songs with mates. But it just reamed it home how serious this fear of hers is that if I go out, I may not come back. Since the holiday has been pending of course her anxiety has gotten worse and it was over Easter after she’d waited up for me to come in from the back yard whilst sitting around a bon fire with mates, cause she couldn’t sleep till I was laying next to her. Then after two evenings out where she waited up for me till two thirty am, and then a disastrous sleepover at my sisters where she called and begged me to collect her at one and three am……. I decided to try medication. It’s a tough as hell decision, but when you watch your baby go through the anxiety of an adult, and she has an irrational fear that will you most certainly die the moment you walk out the door (which of course you can no longer reassure her that you won’t) well you are not left with many options. I think they are helping somewhat, and with two weeks and a half weeks left till I leave, I am pulling out all the stops. On Saturday I was so excited as I had a surprise up my sleeve that would make any person on Earth happy. My sister nominated my family to a wonderful charity called “Feel the Magic.” They raise funds at many events all years (this year the Sun to Surf marathon, among other things) to send families who have suffered a tragic loss of a parent or a sibling to “The Happiest Place on Earth”…… Disneyland in America. We all sat around and they were really tired and flopping all over the couch, and they were nervous and quiet for once! When James and Peter announced that they had actually been chosen, they didn’t quite react at all! Being obviously very professional with reactions like this they kept talking about what was involved, that one of them would come with us and that we would have seven nights in a hotel overlooking Disneyland and California World. The talk of rides had them pepping up, and then when one of them asked if we had any questions, Rubes put her hand up (which I was finally relieved she was engaging with them) and she said “Yeah, does anyone wanna pull my wedgie out?” Oh lord……. I was relieved that they took it in their stride and asked if there were any more questions…. Pops piped up and asked “Do we get to sit in the rich part of the plane?” I may have squirmed a little, but was soon laughing with the rest of them. They were ecstatic, and why wouldn’t you be?! They have earned this prize…. and they will love every second of it. Trenton and I dreamed of taking them there one day, then hiring a motor home and hooning around for a week just checking out the sights. (Personally I think he wanted to go more than them, but whatever…. he loved rides!) So there are some really great things going on in our lives. It’s just sometimes one little tiny thing will set you off and the tears start, and there’s no stopping them. Last night was one of those nights….. but today is a new day. I am grateful for every extra day I get. I’m lucky to have such amazing family and friends around me  because how would I get overseas, or go out sometimes, or meet for coffee and an offload…… If I were alone with the kids I wouldn’t. So I know just how lucky I am. Once this trip is over, we can start the count down to Disneyland which is ALL about the kids. I am so excited to be able to have nothing to talk about but “their” trip instead of trying “not” to talk about mine! But just between you and I……… Damn am I excited about three and a half weeks kid free in Europe and the UK…… I’m not dead yet! xxxxx


Missing my man.....


Needing a Blogging Like Never Before…..

I am needing a blogging today. Terribly……. It’s been the most exhausting, draining, challenging and suffocating fortnight. (Well four months really.) Pop’s anxiety rose to unbearable heights over the weekend and I had to make the heart breaking decision to help her along with medication. She needs it just to get through each evening of her own personal hell……. I stopped my nights out all together, and that hasn’t even worked. Although it seems even if I’m here for her constantly she is still too worried about my trip in three and a half weeks to settle down. Not that she has behaved any differently thank goodness, I was hoping she did not suffer any side effects and she has not. Rubes had convinced me after weeks of full on blueing and point blank defiance against everything I ask of her, that she needed a week of freedom from my “suffocating ways” and that she could prove how independent and self sufficient she was without my help……. I agreed out of pure tiredness one arvo, and I am glad to say she was wrong. (Although she still thinks she is right!) On the first afternoon, I ran into her sitting outside the IGA with her mate (probably trying to beg for money) and she ran to the car and asked if she and her mate could have two bucks each, and if I could drive her past Macca’s for a cheeseburger each so she didn’t have to cook!!!!! (Part of the week of freedom was that  she had to cook/wash her own clothes/make all of her own meals/soothe her own anxiousness to see what it would really be like to have no parents etc) Bahahaha……. I said “Hell NO!” And took her home where Pops and I had a delicious chicken ceasar salad and they ate spaghetti in a can. Anyway, they stayed up singing karaoke and eating crap till midnight when I found them asleep in the rumpus room with icy pole wrappers and lolly packs sprawled from one of the room to the other…… to her credit they were up and dressed and had left for school by eight (probably to go beg out the front of the shops again!) But no cleaning was done. They had also found hair dye in the cupboard and had covered the bathroom in black and red hair colour (the black being permanent……..) and covered their arms in fake tattoos! (Including some that they’d left face down on the bathroom bench in water so they were now making semi permanent lovely bogan patterns on the clean bathroom benches. ) Not annoying at all!! But I said nothing…….. They looked ridiculous anyway as the black turned an awful blue colour that is not coming out for a LONG time. Yesterday I took Poppy for a massage after I was experiencing my second migraine in two days….. and she needed it too. Just before we left I was next door at my neighbours having a cuppa as I couldn’t get Pops to school at all yesterday after a harrowing psychology session in the morning that drained her. Ruby called through to my neighbour (not knowing that I was there) asking if her and her mate could pop in for a swim! Marg asked her if she’d asked her Mum first, and Ruby said “Yeah I just spoke to her and she said it’s fine!!!” Could you get any more busted? Poppy started laughing and then said “busted Ruby, Mum and I are here!” I’m sure she was dying of embarrassment but in true Ruby form immediately said that she’d texted me but maybe it hadn’t come through yet. I left for the massage with Pops telling Ruby that she had lied so would now not get to swim at Marg’s. When I was out, she did her job raking Marg’s driveway and with her money walked to the Kilsyth pool and went swimming anyway!!!! She had her mates brother pick them up at eight, buy them charcoal chicken and then she slept at her mates with no uniform, no lunch and no shoes!!!!! Did this kid really come out of me???? (Don’t answer that…..) This morning I noticed at midnight there were two missed calls from her, but for once I was asleep. In fact after trying for hours to get Pops to sleep, I had fallen asleep on the couch feeling quite sick from my migraines and Pops came and woke me at 11.30pm to put me to bed! (She was still in bed watching a movie……) When I asked her today what she called for she said that her mate Casey had told her that her eyes were looking strange and she started panicking and needed my reassurance that it was okay. (Hmmm…..  thought she didn’t need me!?) I rang and woke her at eight and said to get home before school and get Casey’s bag and their uniforms that I’d kindly washed (the terrible Mum that I am.) They walked past the school in free dress at five to nine and then were surprised when the principal called them into school and rang me to make sure they were supposed to be walking barefoot in plain clothes down Swansea Rd at five to nine?  MY GOD!!!!! They released them, and by 9.15 they were ready for me to take them and a very late Poppy to school. Turns out Casey didn’t have any bread so they had no sandwiches, so I topped up their lunch boxes and happily said “You’re week of freedom is over sister!!!!!” Lesson learned? Not by her, that’s for sure. She had the best week ever……. but it certainly showed me that she is not ready to have a life like her mate’s that she so wishes she had. Complete freedom, but no regularity, no guarantee of support and love and sometimes no food to eat. I know which I’d prefer….. the grumpy over protective Mum who’s just trying to keep her children alive, and maybe even a little happy.  xx

The Count Down Begins……

In four weeks tomorrow I board a plane to Europe. I have been wanting to get excited…. I have been excited….. but it feels like what little control I had on my life has been lost as of late…..  so it is a tad harder to feel the joy about it. 18 years ago one of my besties Paula and I planned a similar trip. We planned it over a  few years….. things got in the way (my boyfriends usually….!) but then when she wasn’t ready (possibly due to the fact that she was pregnant with her first son!) I headed off to travel Australia for a year. It was incredible, and if I hadn’t had the bug before, I certainly got it during that time. I felt like the only Aussie travelling my own country sometimes….. and it was the beginning of many years of travelling to come. (Sadly not for Paula, who will be leaving the country for the fist time with me on May the 11th!) Anyway….. back on track. After I lost Trenton, I sold the house, bought a house and with what little money was left I got a financial adviser to invest it. (She knew I would be asking for a section of it for when the trip began.) Mum told me that maybe in a year or so I should go to Ireland….. the one place I had spent my life dreaming about, and one that I had saved, hoping to go with my husband. We dreamed off driving the tiny narrow streets through the Countryside, stopping and staying at every pub, singing along with the locals and taking in the breath taking countryside. I know it’s silly, but we watched “Escape to the Country” religiously, and always adored seeing the old homes (especially the barn conversions) in Ireland, Wales and England.  We’d talk off winning tattslotto and having an old 17th century home in the countryside somewhere…… Heaven. So of course after he died, all I  wanted to do was go to Ireland. The weird part of losing someone is you automatically want to do everything they’d ever dreamed of because you want to honour their lives so much. I bought a caravan straight away after he died, because we were just about to buy one from the money we had been left from my uncle who had passed away the year before. Of course I spent the next year having to learn to tow it, reverse it, pop out the beds, pack it up etc etc etc….! We went on his dream cruise that we’d already booked and paid for when he passed away. I took the kids to Asia, all things that we dreamed of doing together….. but sadly none of it fills the void of knowing you are only able to do it because they died in the first place. It’s been a very empty 21 months……. and it’s hard to push on through in general, let alone happily. So back to my current trip. I was excited when we booked it a year ago… the kids seemed like they’d cope then. Not so much the case now I’m afraid. Poppy has been going through the roughest time ever. Since the beginning of the Chrissy holidays last year, her anxiety levels have gone through the roof. Having already one daughter with Severe Anxiety Disorder, it was a bit of a kicker to see my baby suffering too. The school holidays were the toughest ones yet, I’d put them into a new Holiday Program while I worked, and Ruby particularly loathed it, as she loved the rough as guts one they were originally at. Pops hadn’t coped the holidays previously so I made the decision to at least try a newie. Poppy went hesitantly because of her growing anxiety, but Rubes point blank refused some days…. talk about never getting it right! Then Poppy stopped sleeping……. bedtimes became hours of getting her in, taking her back, calmly talking her through, then loads of yelling and threatening when I could cope no more……. Pretty much what Trent and I had been through for three years with Ruby when she was three. It nearly tore us apart.  I bought Enid Blyton and Roald Dahl talking books and she’d listen to them for hours…… but would still be awake at the end. By the first week back at school I decided to put her onto the Melatonin that has helped Rubes sleep since she was eight. It worked, and I felt almost human again. But the anxiety got worse……. she started dreading Thursdays as my Dad came to stay so I could have one night off from the kids. I only went out for dinner a movie or a counter meal….. then I was home by midnight. A tiny little bit of normality. Over Easter I had to put a stop to those nights because she was losing her shit about it day and night. I finally got her to see that it isn’t the Thursdays that she is worrying about, it’s the holiday. She is absolutely terrified.  She explained to me that every Thursday night she worries that I wont come home……. so she is almost certain I will die on my trip. It’s so hard because you can’t say to her “I won’t” because Daddy said he’d “always” be there too, so she point blank refuses to believe me. The harsh reality after losing someone I guess. On Friday we tried having her stay at my sisters for a trial. A couple of weeks back after a gig I went to I received a text at 1.30 am saying that she was still awake waiting for me to kiss her goodnight. I left straight away of course so it was a 2.30 am bedtime for her after hours of worrying and calling and worrying and calling. I was sure she’d be fine with my sis, but she wasn’t. The Melatonin didn’t put her to sleep, laying with her the whole time didn’t put her to sleep, and after she finally fell asleep on the couch and they moved her to bed she woke again and I think was up from three am. It is not the kind of anxiety you can talk her through. So in four weeks I am supposed to leave on a trip for three and a half weeks leaving my parents to move in and tackle my girls on my behalf….. and I’m starting to lose sleep over worrying about it. To be honest my kids aren’t the easiest on Earth anyway! So I was already feeling stressed….. but with all my beautiful mates around this area offering play dates and sleepovers to help break up the time for Mum and Dad, at least I felt covered. Back to the Doc’s this week. The psychologist says she is started her grieving finally, and it could be years of this. I feel sick at the thought of that myself.  She is missing Daddy daily, and crying every other again, talking about him and even writing about him. Its wonderful (because this is supposed to happen) but it’s terrifying too. There is no amount of time we can be sure it will take. Yesterday she wrote the most beautiful story. It was called “The Daddy Dream” and she wrote under it “Based on a true story.” It tells of her amazing dream where she saw her Daddy one last time….. and only she could see him. He didn’t know he was dead, so she had to tell him he had a blood clot in his vein that stopped him from breathing.  Suddenly he disappeared and a note was left behind which read “Dear Poppy, I had the most exciting day with you, but now I’m back in Heaven and I can never see you again…… but we can be Daddy-Daughter Pen Pals forever and ever and ever and ever, and I’ll still love you more than anything in the world.” Jesus it ripped my heart out. Nearly two years later and I feel like we’re just starting their grieving process. I just want to scoop them up in my arms like when they were babies and protect them from all this pain. xxxxx

Happy 39th Birthday Trenton…….

cropped-IMG_21701.jpg cropped-PICT1444.jpg IMG_1035043203706651.jpeg IMG_0293.jpg IMG_0750 cropped-PICT1331.jpg Pops and Luigi  Trents room IMG_103504320370665.jpeg PICT2099 PICT3991 mothers day 015 IMG_2171 IMG_2170 IMG_1716 IMG_1714 IMG_0754 IMG_0750 IMG_0743 IMG_0713 IMG_0712 IMG_0594 IMG_0520 IMG_0432 IMG_0329 IMG_0297 IMG_0293 IMG_0241 IMG_0020 Hubby love Missing my man..... PICT2431 PICT2427 PICT2426 PICT2410 PICT1494 PICT1444 PICT1443 PICT1352 PICT1346 PICT1344 PICT1331 PICT1329 PICT1328 PICT1324 PICT0755 PICT0373-1 PICT0372 PICT0363 PICT0358

Good times at the Spiegeltent 2010...

So here it is, your 39th birthday Babe….. one year till you’d hit the big Four O…… the girls and I would have excitedly made you stay in bed while we made your favourite brekky, probably pancakes with lemon and sugar. Pops would have filled a vase with flowers from the garden and made the tray look pretty and Rubes would have run the cooking department. You’d have your traditional romantic card from me telling you how much I’d not survive this world without you, and what you mean to me not just today, but every day. (I still have years of these from you, and they are priceless to me.) I’d be starting to cook your favourite dinner, only because it’d take me half the day (bloody lasagne……) and we’d be planning what you’d like to do. Catch a movie? Drive to the Pig n Whistle for a slow cooked pork Belly? Yes you were a little predictable in this department I’m afraid…. but we loved you for it! The girls would have hand made cards and you’d over do it with how much you cherished them, although the tear in the corner of your eye as you grabbed them and hugged them would give away that you were not faking it. We loved hanging out in our p.j’s for the half the morning eating and snuggling and chatting about life. Birthdays and Mothers and Fathers days were always the same. That person was spoiled rotten with love and attention no matter what. I miss this so much, none of the these days will quite be the same again. I adore the attention from the girls and they try really hard…… but it can not be what it was when you lavished us with your love. The amount that you had to share was endless…… which is what we all loved about you the most. It kills me now to know that all those times the girls asked you how far you’d go to stop the baddies from getting them, what ends you’d go to to save them from hanging off the side of a cliff or how exactly you’d kill hundreds of enemy soldiers to retrieve them from a prisoner of war camp (yes…. we all watched too many movies……) that they believed you were a super hero that would get them safely through this life in one piece……. as did I. How naive we can be sometimes. In our eyes you were invincible, in your parents eyes you were irreplaceable, in your sisters eyes you were incredible, in your friends eyes you were wonderful……  We clearly only got one of those wrong. Love you babe, more than there are ants on the planet (one of our faves) more than there are stars in the sky, more than there are coins circling the world and more than you could have ever known. And here you are, a reminder every day I sit on my deck that you were once, and always will be the man of my dreams, and the best Daddy our girls could ever need. xxxxxx

Trent 2 Trent 1

Another Notch in the Old Belt…….

Trents room

This is truly how it feels to get through yet “another Trentless event.” The girls and I have made it through another Easter without him, sleeping in his old room again (thanks to Lex allowing us to take over it as it’s now her permanent bedroom….) The walls and creaking floors hold so many forgotten memories of his childhood… and if only they could share them all with me. I could never get sick of hearing about his silly ways…. his hilarious and inappropriate sense of humour, coming only slightly higher on the scale to my own. I looked through old photos of him, I sat across at the park and gazed out at the bay and the pelicans thinking of him growing up in this tiny town of 200 odd people, yet coming out with the knowledge of a well travelled, well educated man. Not that he wasn’t either….. but a tiny country town you would never assume he was raised in. That’s one of many things that made him so intriguing. I reminisced when sitting in Warrens studio of those many nights in the early days when he lay on the studio floor trying to describe what he was looking at for the hours he would spend talking me to sleep via the phonein Seddon where I’d recently put a one year old Ruby down and was awaiting sleep that never seemed to come for me. It was of course nothing like I’d expected when I finally got to see it….. he never over described his world… Yup, his Dad was an artist, yup he’d won a scholarship to live in London for a year and study art back when Trent was a young boy and yep they’d lived in some incredible places, some of which he remembered, some of which he did not. When I first arrived at The Port to see this place for the first time  I was not prepared for this magnificent well over a hundred year old house, impeccably adorned in antique furniture and incredible art work, most of which were painted by his father. The studio, which sounded like a cold extension of the house that once housed the bakery oven that cooked the food in which the locals ate, sat at the back of the block, filled to the brim with works that were long finished and works that were continuously progressing to make their way into the Gallery out on the street. The windows which capture fully the incredible greenery and country garden outside, allowing so much natural light in you’d swear you were out in it…. and somewhere in between the house and the bakery they created this amazing home for the whole family to enjoy, and clearly many more generations to come. This weekend my sister in law officially opened up a tiny and beautiful store right next door to her Dad’s gallery on the main street. “Southern Exposure” being such an appropriate name for her creative and beautiful framed photography. Most products are hand made by local individuals, and it makes for a very interesting shop! Ruby was in her element, serving, up selling, almost demanding every buyer take one of her home made loom bands home with them……  For the ripe old price of a buck fifty! Along with selling lord knows how many beautiful products for Lex.   Pops was a marvelous waitress for a little while, but an hour in she realised she’d scored the lesser of the fun  jobs, and just for something different the proverbial shit hit the fan…….. She was still following me around like a shadow, and at least this weekend the truth finally came out…. or should I say gushed out, like a flash flood. She kept having mini anxiety attacks over “the Pop nights” which are my one evening a week where my Dad drives an hour to us and lets me out for the night.  A movie, a meal, a game of pool, and I’m always home by midnight. He stays of course, and then also gets the kids going the next morning…….. two things I never get anymore.  I set the girls up in my bed, with shows to fall asleep to……. and they adore him, so I couldn’t understand why it was becoming such an overwhelming thing for her. She kept saying it wasn’t Pop, it was just making her have nightmares and lose sleep. For months I have asked if it is my pending trip overseas for three and a half weeks in May….. a luxury that my Mum convinced me to organise when Trent died. It was meant to be last year  but I thought it was too soon for the girls. When she howled and almost hyperventilated about the nights out once a week, I finally pulled the plug on this night that made her feel physically ill from Friday to the following Thursday each week. ……. it sucks, as we all adore our Pop catch ups on a Thursday night…… but I can see now she wants me right by her side day and night because she is terrified that I will not come back from overseas…. one way or another…. she it sure of it. How Sad. We got her all excited whilst away as my best mates and sister were there for the weekend. So we started a list of people that she would like to have look after her, and people she would allow to come and stay and look after her in her home. Even people that might pick her and her sister up for a day out. This would give Grandma and Pop a break while I was away, and her some things to look forward to. For an evening she was really excited.  Then last night she had Rubes sleep in her room, after she begged me if she could share my bed again, and I asked for one night in my room, alone. It’s so hard to grieve when you don’t even get to go to the loo alone. A half hour of crying later she got up and sobbed in my lap for the next hour while I tried to calm her and she said that the plans we made had not stopped her anxiety and she may not be able to call when she needs me, and our time zones are different and she just can’t let me go even though she wants me to go for me. It’s gut wrenching to see her like this. And all the while everything is back to “I wish Daddy was here, I could cuddle with him and feel much better when I feel sad….” I wish Daddy was here to do the Easter bunny hunt, it was much more fun we he helped us do it….” “If Daddy were here, he could look after me while you went away.” ” I never had this anxiety when Dad was around.” God how I wish Daddy was here too. 21 months later she has just started to realise he is not coming back. She is finally yearning and howling and bawling her eyes out when she thinks of him, or hears his songs, or see’s something he should have seen with her. I knew the grief process took it’s own time for everyone individually…… but what we’ve been through for 21 months I was sure was already grieving. I didn’t possibly think it could get any harder.  There sure isn’t any patterns to look at, any books to help me along. I got this one all to myself, and I gotta tell you it’s the toughest thing I’ve faced since losing Trent. I wish he was here to guide me through. x

Pops and Luigi

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