March 2015

Since I was by now completely hooked on ceroc I thought maybe it was time to try yet another kind of dance. So a week after saying goodbye to big brother and his wife I had my very first west coast swing class. It was a much smaller class than I was used to; in fact it was even smaller than the salsa ones I had attended the previous year. The people were welcoming though and soon I was havng great fun learning the west coast swing basic moves.

My return to work was a little nerve racking as I was afraid I would have forgotten everything but soon it was like I was never away. Well except for the being much less stressed and starting to count down to my next adventure. One thing had become extremely clear to me whilst travelling the south Island. I miss backpacking. It is probably not much of a surprise that March had barely begun and I was back online looking at plane tickets. Thanks to my favourite site adioso.com I soon had a flight to Kuala Lumpur booked for the day before my NZ visa was due to finish.

The rest of the month was pretty much the same, work, west coast swing, ceroc and seeing my friends whenever I could. As happy as I was to be planning my travels it was starting to sink in that soon I would have to leave a lot of lovely people behind when I went.

There was one notable sad event. On the 13th of March my favourite author Sir Terry Pratchett sadly passed away. His books have had a massive impact on my life and I was greatly saddened when he announced his Alzheimer’s. I am happy he was able to keep writing up until the end but my thoughts were with his family that day. They had the flip side of my situation. They had the years together the life and the warning and all the hardships that came with it that I know nothing about. That said the loss is the same. I know there will always be a hole in their lives forever more, which leads me to the final subject of this post.

In March there is one day that is always remembered and always observed. The 17th: St Paddy’s day as people love to remind me, not knowing I will never forget. The 17th: the anniversary of my world imploding and the loss of our wonderful Jonathan. The day was spent quietly with my memories of our happy times. I met a friend for drinks and she had loads to tell me about her new girlfriend. Hearing how happy she was and seeing the love on her face as she talked was exactly what I needed. The one thing I wish for my loved ones is that they find what Jonathan and I shared and I do believe that this friend has found her version of that.  After the catch up it was time to go home and have my inevitable moment of sadness because after all these years there is one fact that has not and will never change. It’s not fair. It’s not fair that I get to live this amazing life and meet amazing people and he isn’t here. It’s not fair that our friends and family are getting married and having kids and he never will, he doesn’t even get a dog. I could go on but I won’t it’s not fair but it is life. Life is rarely fair but it does go on and as much as it has treated my unfairly and badly in the past I’m not sure I’ve done anything to deserve the amazing things that have happned any more than I didn’t deserve the bad.  So at the end of the day I let it all go and went to sleep. The next day life, as always, went on.

Thoughts on Making a Room a Home

I moved in to a shared flat on the 1st of December 2013. I had a decent sized empty room that had a small built in wardrobe and a chest of drawers left by the previous tenant. I bought myself a queen sized bed from the local Salvation Army Store and some nice bedding to make it my own. At this point I felt my room had enough things in it. Though the wardrobe was small it was more than adequate for my meagre possessions. For decoration I pinned an annotated map of New Zealand to the pin board on the wall. This map had travelled with me from Australia and the annotations were places to go and things to do as suggested by friends who had all spent years travelling in NZ and knew me well enough to give good suggestions. This was to be my reminder in the coming months as to why I was staying out and being normal. It was my reminder that this was a temporary situation. It was all the decoration I needed.

Of course once I had place of my own things started to accumulate. So when a friend decided to leave the country and offered me a table and iPod docking station/radio I said yes please. Then my flatmate offered me some shelves. I said no initially but after a few weeks of them sitting outside my room I decided I might just be able to make use of them after all. Since I was in one place my family and friends sent me clothes and things and the wardrobe and drawers started filling up.
At the same time my pin board was filing up with tickets from films and concerts and other events attended with friends. Beside it there was a growing collection of cards from friends and family abroad. Finally I took a 5 week photocourse where the importance of printing your work was discussed and so I printed off a large selection of my favourite photos, thinned them down and stuck them on my wall.

This is how in March 2015 almost six years after I lost the person who was my home I found myself in a different kind of home. I had never intended to hold myself back from my flatmates. Years of travel has taught me that some people are always worth getting to know whether you are spending a week a month or a year with them. However places are different, so never intended to make my room my home yet without meaning to I slowly made this space my own. It reflects who I am and all that is important to me. Photos of friends are on my wall next to my bungy and skydive photos surrounding a tile with my favourite quote on it. Every card from back home is on that wall reminding me that though I am far away I am loved and missed. The map has a few more scribbled on it. It is no longer just a reminder of the places yet to be visited and adventure still to come but also a reminder of those already taken. The mementos surrounding the map remind me that overall life in one place has been a good experience.

I never meant to make myself at home here but I did and I am glad I did. I love my room. I love that it is uniquely mine and very me. It’s messy and disorganised but somehow it all works. Will I miss it? Maybe a little but mostly not. It will become a happy memory and one day no doubt it to will appear as a photo itself on another wall in another time as a happy memory the next time I accidently make myself a home.

My Memory Wall: June 2015 just before I moved out

June 2014 – A Month of Birthdays

June was quiet a big month for me right from the start. My mum turned 60 (sorry mum!) and I may have gone a little overboard in sending her presents because I was sad that I couldn’t be with her. Right at the start of this blog before I’d even booked my first flight I realised I would be missing many birthdays and other occasions (A Ramble Ending in Thoughts on Occasions if you’re interested) but realising this and experiencing it are two very different things. As much as I love and miss all my family and friends I am unashamedly a mummies girl and I really wanted to be there but only if I could teleport, which I couldn’t. So I stayed put and sent presents and wrote a bad poem and let her know in every other way I could how much I loved and missed her and how happy I was that she had made it to 60 and could she pretty please keep on going.

Just over a week later and it was Josh’s birthday. Now him I can’t send presents to. Though I did send his family flowers it’s nothing like the same. Him I’ve already written bad poetry about, much more than I care to remember. So I did what I always do. I changed my profile photo and thought “God, we were so young”. I went to work and thought “God, I feel so old”. I spent time with my friends and though “Thank God I met these people” and as always when his birthday arrived I missed him and I grieved for all he never had and never got to do, then I was thankful for all I have and all I have yet to experience. And as always, life went on.

Josh and me when we were 18!

Life did indeed go on and the next big thing was my work visa being approved. Immigration decided that I could stay another year as long as I stayed put and ran the cafe for all of it. Despite my continual anxiety and crisis of confidence in my ability as a manager this was a deal I was willing to take, after all how bad could it be? Decision made that was it. I now officially lived and worked in Wellington, New Zealand. And work I did, a lot. Thankfully every hour spent at work meant more money on the bank which I put to excellent use at the end of the month when my Australian friend arrived. That’s right, less than 2 months since I returned from my mini break and soon I would be off again! Of course life is full of ups and downs and whilst I was celebrating the arrival of one friend I was sad to see another leave. One of my closest friends was leaving as her visa was up, the good news was that she was in the process of applying for a work visa similar to the one I had just been granted and so I was hopeful that she would be returning sooner rather than later.

To end the month the was one more important occasion, my dad also had a birthday but he was only 65 so all he got was a plant for his garden and some bubble wrap. Oh ok I may have sent a voucher as well but for anything more exciting he’ll just have to wait until he’s 70. Sorry dad, you’ll just have to keep going to get better presents.

Thoughts Ending with I’m Ok, I’m Alright

The nice thing about my thoughts is that for the most part they don't really need to fit in to my blog timeline. So though blog Lyn is stuck back in August 2013 real Lyn is firmly in January 2015. As I start yet another year a wandering widow (there will be more wandering this year, honest!) I spent the first day watching P.S. I Love You. A film that reminds me how bad it (I!?!) was and how far I have come. Anyway, these are the thoughts inspired by watching said film.

Disclaimer: Whilst I strongly identify with the main character this does not mean that our journeys are the same. For instance I would like to reassure my friends and family that at no point in my widdowhood have I felt the need to terrorise unsuspecting innocent bystanders by indulging in karaoke.

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I watch P.S. I love you every so often. It makes me cry every time though I’ve progressed from continuous noisy messy tears to crying quietly (but still messily, I am not one of life’s pretty criers) at the most poignant parts. It’s interesting to me how different widow’s react to this film and to me it highlights just how different our journeys all are. One widow once commented on how offensive she found it. Especially the scene when one of the widow’s friends accuses her of getting upset because everyone else was moving on and she was no longer the centre of attention. For me that scene resonated oh so well. Maybe it’s an age thing, both physical and mental.  I was 27 when I was widowed, the character in the film 29. We were childless and just starting to make our way in the world with no real need to be entirely properly grown-up just yet, as were the couple in the film. Well like the widow in the film I grew up pretty fast in a short space of time.

That’s why I watch it. Why, is the question people always ask when I tell them I like to watch to occasionally. I can understand the disbelief. Isn’ t it too close to home? Well yes, and that is why. It makes me cry as it reminds me of the daft things we did. I don’t see this as a bad thing as often I feel better after a good cry, especially during the harder days. It makes me smile when they show the couple as imperfect yet just right for one another, like we were. When we hear his last letter I like to think that Josh would want the same for me, to see myself as he did. Most of all it gives me hope.

Every time I watch the film I’m at a different place in my life. I always see something different but every time one thing is the same, at the end there is hope. She still loves her husband but she is learning how to live again. The film jumps forward in time so it doesn’t pretend to be an overnight occurrence. It takes time, tears, effort and love. The love of her husband helps her acknowledge his disappearance from her life. The love from her family supports her and her mother’s occasionally blunt honesty reminds me of my mum, I know and value that she will always tell me the truth no matter how much it hurts. The love from her friends, who hang on in there and forgive when the misery of her grief blinds her to their joy.

This film gave me hope when I was early on that I could build a new life. In the film the husband says his wife made his life yet he was but one chapter in hers. For me and Josh it was the same. It is and always will be a great sadness to me that his life and consequently our chapter was too short. My life however goes on and I hope that the chapters formed over the past five and three quarter years are nothing compared to those still to come. And so ends this post with the words from the films end song that always strike a chord with me.

“She says I'm okay; I'm alright,

Though you have gone from my life

You said that it would,

Now everything should be all right”

P.S. I love you xxx

Thoughts on Money Problems

I wasn’t sure about the following post but every time I doubt about sharing something personal I remember that this is my diary and that usually the stuff I am most hesitant about sharing is the stuff that strikes a chord with you lot. This post was inspired by a friend who was very open about her money troubles. this helped me to accept and take responsibility for my own so I thought too would tell my story. After all in a society where possessions are everything, don't we all struggle? Well this post will show that even when you chose to live a life where experience not possessions is the goal money can still cause you problems if you don't keep your eye on it.

I always thought that nothing could stop me from going to my best friend’s wedding however I didn't account for her timing, the Australian tax system, and my terrible money management. It had cost me to go back for my brother wedding. I was fortunate that my family heavily subsidised my attendance and treated me to hotel stays and meals out but I do like to pay my own way and I knew I had tax owing to me from Oz. The tax and super annotation refund when you leave Oz is something I have heard many wonderful things about and was much looking forward to. Between these 'facts' I decided that it was safe and right to give the credit card a bit of a battering so I could get the most from my month at home. I can't say I regret my actions though I think I would more if I hadn't had an extremely generous gift later on but I get ahead of myself. So my trip home had left my credit card a bit more battered that was comfortable but I had money coming so it was fine except that now I needed a return plane ticket to London ASAP and that wasn’t going to come cheap. Now I could just about put it on my much maligned credit card but by this point I was in dispute with the Australian government. They said I owed them the best part of $4000 and I believed that they should owe be the best part of $3000. This meant that my promise to not miss my best friend’s wedding was in serious peril. I have to say she was being very understanding about my hesitation to promise to be there. As well as my money troubles I had just started a new job, which was a relief on the money front but I had promised them I'd stay at least 6 months. Life was looking less than sunny in more ways than one. At this point I did wonder how on earth I could have let this happen again??? It seems when it comes to money I just never learn. This time though I was determined. I would sort it out myself. 

Two things happened at this stage to make life a little sunnier. A chat with the tax people in Oz determined that if I filled out a form explaining that I had filled out my e-tax incorrectly and how they would reassess me and I should then no longer owe them money. This was a huge relief. The second was the offer of a loan so I could afford to buy the much desire plane ticket to London and back. Now there is not much that would have made me accept such a thing at this point but there was no way I could continue my friendship with my best friend knowing that I had the chance to attend her wedding but had refused it out of pride. The loan was accepted, the plane tickets bought oh and the tax people, they agreed that they owed me not I them Though it turned out to be less than I had thought I decided to quit when I was ahead. As for the super whilst I knew exactly what was in there and whilst it was all returned to me I also failed to account for the fact the Australian tax people would take almost half of it. 

The lesson here was never to trust what other people say and to check out these things for myself. Also, don't spend money you haven't actually got not matter how sure you are that it's coming your way. Since I am writing this even more in retrospect than usual I can assure my friends and family that this is an issue which in now fully under control and is no longer giving me sleepless nights. In fact I currently have more money saved than I ever have in my life and am extremely proud of myself. Not only to I ahve enough to fully clear all my debt I’m on track to have a very comfortable budget for my future travels. I won’t say I didn’t have some help but mostly I managed this on my own and I honestly think it was a long overdue lesson that I have finally (hopefully!) learned. 

Written 12/03/10 - Desperation

With the passing of a beloved actor that I grew up with my thoughts go straight to Robin Williams family. As the post pile up on FB the sorrow grows and then come the other posts. The ones remaining people that even the strongest of us can suffer. As an adolescent I struggled to figure out not just where my place was but if I had one. In my early 20's I finally got professional help and learned how to cope with my depression and anxiety. I was fortunate that I had the support of a loving partner and family. An unintended consequence of this was that when Jonathan died I had the tools to cope with the depression brought on by my grief. Even so I had some extremely tough and hard days. I didn't blog back then but I did write. 

A year after Jonathan was taken from us this is how I felt. I can honestly say I have found my place in the world now and I am comfortable with who I turned out to be but back then the thought of who that might be terrified me. Thankfully with the love and support of both my families I stuck around to work out that life as just me is definitely worth living after all. If there is anyone struggling who is reading this please know that no matter how hard  life gets it can get better but sometime for that to happen you need help and that help can give you the tools to cope with anything life throws at you. I'm living proof.

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Brandi Snyder once said “To the world you are one person but to one person you are the world.” I have no idea who Brandi Snyder is but the internet assures me that it was he who said this, the quote though I know well. When I first heard it I was at university and madly in love. To one person I was the world and to me he was all that I needed. This is an amazing gift but also slightly terrifying, especially if you are 17 years old. We met young, we fell in love and it was extraordinarily scary. To meet the love of your life at 17 to know that this is the one person you want to make your world and spend the rest of time with. Well you’re 17 so surely it won’t last? But it did. At 22 we moved in together. We were each other’s worlds and we refused to get married. We met young and were together for 5 years before we lived together. We had so much time together that there was no need to rush and we knew that we would be together forever so there wasn’t the need for what was to us, just a bit of paper, especially when the money for a wedding could get us to Australia or Salsa dancing in Cuba. It wasn’t always perfect, we fought, we argued and we managed to slam a few doors but through it all our love was never in doubt. Through the dark times, through the hard times we could turn and say “You love me” and know it would be true. It was an amazing gift I and I thought I knew how lucky I was but there is another saying “You don’t know what you’ve got until it’s gone” and I now know that this too is true.

A year ago forever came to an end. A year ago my world was taken from me. A careless moment, a terrible accident and forever was no more. In an instant I was no longer the world to one person I was just one person in a very large and scary world. I have many friends and a large and caring family but I was not their world. They did not live and breathe for me but no longer did he; I have never felt so small.

When you think about grief you think of sadness that a person has gone. You think of regret for all that was not said, or that was said in anger or confusion. Unless you’ve been there you don’t know about the madness. You don’t know how empty life becomes. All you have is worthless and the part of you that cares has gone with the person you have lost. You are nothing and yet there are people all around you telling you to eat, to try to live and carry on. It’s what he would have wanted. Well he died so maybe his opinion doesn’t count? Sacrilege. How could you, who loved him so, ever think such a thing? Because I hurt. Because I am angry. Because it is not fair and there is nothing I can do.  Eventually as time passes I am learning to live with the pain. The hurt of missing him everyday has become my constant and now it is part of who I am then one day I realised that my life is filled with grief. The pain and sadness surrounds me and there is no room for anything else.

A friend told me of a lecture in which they learned that grief will never shrink but we must expand our lives so that it can remain the same but no longer fill our lives. This made sense to me and it is a course of action I can live with but how? How do you increase your world when all you knew has gone? I am but one person and I feel so small. There is a desperation in me. I must belong, I must fit in. I must be who you need me to me. I need you to validate my existence because if you don’t will I disappear? If I don’t tell you that I’m here will you forget me? If you forget me what will I become? If I am but one person how do I go on? Where do I fit in? I must go out there alone and make my world a larger place. I have to travel to explore. The world is so large that surely there is some where for me? A place where I belong, a place to call my own. A time and place where I can say this is me. I am not who you need me to be. I am not who you want me to be. I am just me.

I wish there was a map. I long for someone else to plot my course. The responsibility for my life alone could crush me if I let it, and sometimes I long to let it, but yet I carry on. Somewhere in me, buried deep within there is a part of me remaining; a me I never knew, me without him. I am scared to meet her, afraid to let her out. What if no-one likes her? What if she is takes me places I never wanted to be? Yet...... what if she is someone good. Maybe she can care. Maybe she can be someone, thus me I cannot conceive. I reach out then snatch my hand back. I am so desperate to fit in and desperate to belong but desperation is kin to despair and I know where that can take me. So the desperation must be banished and I must let you go. For though you’ve held me when I fell I now know you cannot pick me up. You cannot plot my course for me. I am afraid but the fear is losing its grip. You held me when I fall now you’re telling me to go. I know that your words come from your heart but there is only so much you can give.

So where so I go from here? A wandering soul. For 10 years I found a home, the place where I belonged. Now this place is gone my soul wanders on once more. 

Thoughts About Being On My Own Again

Finally I have decided to go back and edit my old unpublished posts. So if you're still interested and don't mind reliving my last year with me here are my thoughts from my time in Singapore back in May 2013.

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On my third day in Singapore I had a slight crisis of confidence. Where as in the past I had jumped feet first in to my exploring and being a tourist in Singapore things happened more slowly. Maybe I was out of practice. Maybe it was a hangover from the emotional rollercoaster I had recently been on. Maybe I was actually getting, gasp, old?! Whatever the reason as I wandered round the botanical gardens under the impression that my camera was out of action for the day I felt my spirits slump. The enthusiasm I usually had for new places was missing and I wondered if it would have been the same if someone else had been with me? In short I felt a little bit lonely, a little but sorry for myself and annoyed that the life I thought I loved might have ended so soon.

After lunch and finding my camera battery though I got lost in my photography. I ‘m far from professional and I don’t have the talent of some of my friends but I love being behind the camera. I love trying to capture my subjects at just the right time and though I do edit I feel great satisfaction when I look at a shot and think, nope, doesn’t need a thing done to it. I didn’t know what I wanted to do in Singapore and it did leave me feeling a little lost but then it’s only by being lost that we find things, unexpected things.

On my first two days in Singapore by early afternoon I was feeling low and lost yet on both days something happened to turn my day around. On day one it was the Lego art and the cityscape at night. Then the next day it was spending hours with my camera taking hundreds of photos, dozens of them of the same subject over and over.  So by day three I was feeling more like my old self. I really looked into what Singapore had to offer and discovered it is more than a city of shopping. I want to go back and do the things I missed. I don’t regret not looking into it more before hand, I learnt in America that the wait and see method suits me best.

Looking back it wouldn’t have been the same with someone else. Even when I am with a patient and understanding friend there are only so many photos you can take before feeling like you are wasting their time. I arrived in Singapore a little wrung out and jetlagged. I left rejuvenated and ready to get back to my life in Australia. I was going to get on that boat. I was going to have a sunny winter. And once I was ready I was going to go to New Zealand. Maybe....whatever happened I felt myself once more and I knew I was in the right place, for now.

Thoughts on Deception

It’s hard when you realise that someone isn’t who you thought they were. Sometimes you meet someone and you think there must be more to them but no they are exactly as they appear what you see is what you get. I’ve always thought that was a pretty good description of me but what I’ve realised is I’ve been fooling myself. You see the person who isn’t who I thought they were; it’s me.

I’ve not posted here for months. I’ve told myself that I don’t have time to write. Or that there’s nothing to write about, after all this is a travel blog and I’ve not done much travelling since I arrived in Wellington. I’ve been living with a terrible internet connection so uploading what I write is difficult so why bother writing. All perfectly plausible explanations and all bullshit. You see when I write I write from the heart. I’ve not just not been posting, I’ve not been writing and that means I’ve been hiding from something. Finally I’m ready to face that something.

Since arriving in Wellington I’ve been living a very normal life. I’ve been staying a hostel where there are a lot of long term guests so there’s not too much change in my circle of friends. I’ve got a steady job and tomorrow I’m moving in to a flat. I’ve been living a very normal life. I’ve put a lot of effort into it. A few weeks ago I had a melt down because I’ve been trying so hard not to miss Josh. Been trying to force myself to be interested in dating. Trying to be something that I thought I should be rather than just being who I am. I tried really hard but you can’t force grief, it sets its own timetable. So I found some calm in admitting that I still miss Josh. I miss our life and all that I lost when he died. I thought that was it but I still wasn’t writing then this morning it hit me.

I’m through with being reasonable and understanding. I don’t care if it’s not logical and not fair. Yes I have a great life now and I am thankful for it but he left me. He didn’t mean to, he didn’t want to and for years I’ve been saying that’s ok but it’s not. He left me and everything changed. In an instant everything I thought I knew and everything I had was gone. And I am angry. I am so angry. He left me. How could he do that do me?? I have a playlist that I listen to when I’m having a bad day. It’s got Avril Lavigne’s “So much for my happy ending” on it. I always thought that my anger when I listened to that song was directed at life but it’s not it’s at him. He LEFT me. He left me behind and went where I can’t follow. You can comment on this and tell me he didn’t mean to. You can tell me that it was a senseless accident and no-one’s fault. You can even tell me that he loved me and he didn’t want to go but I know all that. I can quote you reasonable until the cows come home but it doesn’t change how I feel. I am seriously pissed off.

We didn’t have it all and it wasn’t perfect but it was damn good and about as close as you can get. It felt so right and nothing has felt like that since he left. Nowhere really feels like home without him. There are times when I think I’m good. When I thing this time I’ve got it sussed but the thing is I don’t feel like me. I was finally comfortable with who I was. He loved me and it gave me so much more. You can tell me he still loves me that it’s not something that can be taken from me but I’m not the same person I was. I’m sure he’d love me even now, he was unwavering like that but it’s not the same. He’s not here to help me figure me out anymore. He left me to do it on my own. He left, he’s gone and I am so sad for all he’d missed and all he still has to miss but I’m angry too. And I’m allowed to be. Why didn’t he see that car? Why did he have to be him. Why did everything I loved about him have to be the things that led us to this place. Him god knows where and me here, alone.

He was my other half, ergo I am half. I feel incomplete without him. I hate that. I’m a person in my own right. I’m not defined by anyone else yet I feel it still, that hole. That ache in the stomach that I thought by now would be gone. Over four and a half years of missing him and the wrong song, a bad day, a stupid advert on TV and it all comes rushing back, the pain, the black hole in the pit of my stomach. I have a great life. I should be able to appreciate it. I shouldn’t still be dealing with this but I am, because he left. He was taken. However you phrase it he’s gone. Do I forgive him? No because deep down I know there is nothing to forgive. I know he didn’t want to go so I am sorry. I am sorry that I’m angry but like the sense of loss and pain I’ve learnt to live with this is something else I need to work through. And I’d say I’ve made a pretty good start, even if it did take me a while to get here.

Thoughts on The Aftermath

For me it's always afterwards that the grief sinks it's claws in. The days following my brother's wedding were hard for me. My parents generously paid for hotel rooms for us so I could see both them and my brother as much as possible before I left the country again. I am not proud of the fact I was not appreciative of this at first. I felt awkward accepting so much from them when I give so little. I felt awkward staying in a place where up until then all my memories included Jonathan and sadly I hated being served by someone who could have been him fourteen years ago.

Despite all this I enjoyed my time there. I got to see my in-laws and spend the whole afternoon and evening with my brother before I left. I hadn't realised how much that would mean to me as we're not exactly close. I'm too withdrawn and far away for us to be in daily of weekly contact but we do care deeply for one another. Spending time with him and his wife so soon after they were married was a true gift which was only possible due to my mother persistence. I won't say much but I will say I made my mother unhappy which I deeply regret. It is something I vowed not to do when I left for Australia the last time and I regretted breaking that vow, especially when she was trying so hard to be supportive. I was determined not to be so selfish and yet here I was hurting the one person I could always rely on. She called me on it and I apologised and since she is my mother she forgave me.

I mention this for two reasons. One I want to publically acknowledge that my mother was right and that I was a spoilt brat and I am deeply sorry I hurt her. The other is that she called me on it. She treated me like a grown-up who has to take responsibility for her actions and that makes me happy. No more am I treated as something fragile. Yes they know I hurt but now I am strong enough to take responsibility for my actions and to have to account for it when I do not.

As for the hotel, when we checked in it was full a place full of memories I had never had to confront yet when I left it was just another, not very great, hotel. I won't go back by choice but if I had to then I could and it would just be another place we used to go like so many more that already exist. 

Thoughts on Attending my Brothers Wedding

As you can imagine this was an extremely emotional day made even more so because of the absence of the man I love. It frustrates me that my joy at even the happiest of occasions is dimmed by the knowledge that he is not there sharing them with me. I've never been one for crowds yet with him by my side I felt I could do anything. I still don't like crowds yet now it is the memory of him that gives me the courage to face them . Sadly on this most important day my courage failed. Thankfully I had both of my families on hand, not to mention my mother best friend, to keep an eye on me and give me safe haven. I stayed close and only ventured as far as my cousins table when I was feeling brave enough to attempt social. As a youngster I was chronically shy and though I did not retreat in to full teenage mode I found the whole day slightly overwhelming. As much as my friend's wedding years ago made me sad I had not given our families this day my brother made me happy for me that I had not been faced with it.

I am glad the day was everything my brother and his bride wanted but for me I was happy behind my camera recording what I could. I was content to speak to those who knew me well and would understand my awkwardness as part of my nature not an intent to be rude. I was glad I could hide amongst the familiar in a setting that was so unfamiliar to me. See I am not so brave. I face the unknown on a regular basis. I will jump off bridges, out of planes, dive the deepest oceans and go into the unknown without a missed heartbeat if I can. I will travel on my own, make friends as I go and trust that somehow life will all work out. But ask me to go to a big social gathering and participate and well, it's not as bad as spiders but I'd rather take the high jump. I'm just not good with crowds, never have been. In my line of work I can fake it and I can deal with them when I have to but when my emotions were so mixed and so deep on this day that it was just too much. Thankfully sister of the groom when the bride has a sister is the easiest job on the planet. Turn up, get your photo taken, in my case do a reading. I wouldn't have missed that day for anything and I am glad I have reached a point where I could participate to some extent but I can't help but wonder.....If he had been here would I have done better? Could I have done more? And if the answer is yes does that make what I did any less?

The fact is he wasn't there. I did my best. I missed a few dances and at the end of the night I went home alone, to an unfamiliar bed where, thanks to the thoughtfulness of my mother, I had his jumper, my stuffed dog and a brand new laptop to work out my feeling on. The next morning I discovered the joy of creating bubble]y mouthwash when you try use toothpaste as mouthwash (I had forgotten my toothbrush) try it, it's awesome fun. I had breakfast with my family and I tried not to hurt because he wasn't there. Maybe I shouldn't have tried, maybe if I had let someone in and shared my pain then it wouldn't have been so obvious but then hindsight is a wonderful thing. All I can hope is that my sadness didn't diminish anyone else's happiness. That when it mattered the most I came through. And if it didn't well I tried. I tried my best and I am proud because I know my best is so much more than it was even one year ago. Most of all I hope that the bride and groom had a fabulous day, that they didn't think of me too much (I'd say not at all but that's just not them) and that they will always be as happy as they looked that day. 

Year Four, Week One

Well I survived the day but as always the aftermath wasn’t easy. Yes I kept life normal on the surface but inside it was a struggle. The days that followed were easy days work wise. I only worked two morning shifts but made up my hours with an extra evening shift. Unfortunately work was quiet so it was a case of finding things to clean and keeping the place tidy and stocks up: too much time to think, too much time to wonder what could have been.

On the plus side the lack of morning shift meant I finally got back in to my TEFL course. Since my current flat mates had moved in during the build up I haven’t been overly friendly so like my life in Broome there were few distractions. I did manage lunch and a quick breakfast break with my currently only Cairns friend but mostly I kept my head down, studied, worked and slept. I didn’t sleep as much but it was still a handy relief and distraction. . Strangely enough I wasn’t in the mood to write which I usually do when I’m feeling low but I did take the time to submit this blog into a blog exchange competition (http://www.bigblogexchange.org/blog/498001).  The idea of swapping lives with a completely random person seemed to be right up my street. Maybe that is why entering didn’t take me too long, sadly it wasn’t really much of a distraction. Maybe I should have gone out on a boat or tried something new but that would’ve cost money and I don’t want my diving to be tainted by grief. That’s my place where I feel free. When I think of Jonathan when I am diving I think how he would love it and how proud he would be. Usually I’m happy with these thoughts but when my emotions were that fragile I wasn’t sure I could cope. So I stayed at home.

Though my work isn’t strenuous or difficult I must admit I was glad when my day off rolled around. The four year one week mark was difficult and I did have an extended moment of grief after finishing work that day. It was my own fault. I had spent a week doing the whole I’m fine and yes of course I’m ok thing and of course by now I am rather good at it so no-one questioned it. The strain of pretending that now that day had past I was all fine was starting to tell so what did I do? I watch the Up Love Story on You Tube. See, told you it was my own fault. It’s such a short clip but it tells their story so well. I had that. We had that. Now I have the memories of that. You know something it is sad. Fortunately the next day I was off work so I would have time to rest and recharge. It’s tiring this grief malarkey you know? Four years on and it’s still oh so tiring. Oh well, one week left in Cairns then it’s on to Sydney and back to some of my dearest friends before I take that long journey home. At least I know there’ll be plenty of hugs in my near future and you what else, that’s enough to keep me going and make me smile again.

*That* Day Number 4

Well the day has been and gone. I think I did rather well at my first shot at keeping life normal at such a hard time. The week started out with a few wobbles and I was definitely more self absorbed than usual but once I realised that an excess of sleep was the way forward things seemed to even off a bit.

After my day off I had an easy start to my work week with only a small evening shift then a full day on Wednesday. Maybe it was the amount of time spent being nice to people or maybe it was just the realisation that the date really was rolling round again but I did find the full day a bit much and started to struggle. Thankfully the nest day I was off again and that gave me time to regain my equilibrium. I didn’t do much and that was exactly what I needed. I did venture out of the staff flat and down to the esplanade where I enjoyed the cool sea breeze whilst I used my kindle app to read in my iTouch. I even ventured as far as the nearest sushi place for lunch before returning to my shaded spot for yet more reading. Since I had a lie in that morning I missed the afternoon nap but did go for an early night. With all that sleep I thought I’d be right the next day but I don’t think it was good sleep as after a slightly disorganised morning shift it was straight back to bed for a three hour nap. Only my alarm on my phone meant that I didn’t miss my evening shift. The extended nap did the trick though and my evening shift seemed to go a lot more smoothly. Everyone at my work was aware that it was a difficult time for me but apart from a few meaningful “Are you ok?’s” they stuck with my wishes to act as normally as possible. The light handed concern and extended nap meant I finished that day in a much better frame of mind than I had the previous full day. I was glad of it as it meant I was able to have a skype home and talk dresses and other nonsense with Josh’s mum for a while before heading back to bed. I honestly do not want to know what my flatmates must have thought since every time they saw me I was either sleeping or working!

The next day was once again a short working day with only an evening shift to conquer. Again an excess of sleep seemed to be the answer to getting through the day and that evening I arrived at work refreshed enough to be interested in my friends activities. She was on the brink of submitting her competition entry that she had been working on for the last month or so. For the first time near that date I managed to think about someone other than myself and I found myself genuinely excited that the moment had come. She had to make a few tweeks here and there before being completely satisfied that she had done all she could but finally it was done. All those weeks if hard work were over and now all there was left  do was to count the votes as they come in. And I still say that naming Malaria as her most unforgettable souvenir is an inspired answer.

Finally it arrived and I really wished it hadn’t. Even now it still sucks. I cannot believe four years has past since I saw my loves face and heard his voice tell me that he loves me. Some would say that it’s been four years and I should move on, some would say it’s only four years and to give myself time. All I know is that in the last four years not one man has come close to making me feel like he did. Not one person has made me feel so at home with myself. No-one has given me a reason to stay put. No-one can hold a candle to my Jonathan. So on that day I was sad. I missed him so damn much it hurt. But it was different. It was blurry, almost like it happened to someone else. I was sad and I missed him but I didn’t feel that lost feeling I had grown so used to. I felt that I was where I was meant to be, for now.

See my life has some direction at last. I found a new passion in diving that I’d like to explore firther. I feel more at peace with who I am now and who I am becoming. As well as remembering that day I also remembered everyone else effected. I remembered how hard my friends and family tried to be there for me in the aftermath and felt peace knowing that though it may have taken me some time and I know there is a long way still to go I am finally on the right path for me. So at the end of my that day I got online and I booked plane and train tickets so I could let the people who have always been there for me know for sure that I was coming back to them, even if it is only for a short while. After all more than anything that is what Jonathan would have wanted. He loved his gadgets, he loved to travel and he was definitely his own person but most of all he loved his friends and family and put them first. Finally, I feel that I am on my way to remembering and living that and that might be his most important legacy of all.

You up there in heaven,
With me down here on earth.
We never meant to part,
Yet fate had other plans.
One day our time will come,
Together once again.
'Til then I keep you safe,
Your heartbeat carries on.

P.S. If you are at all interested in seeing where I live and the video (and competition) which helped keep my mind otherwise occupied on the run up to that day then here it is:

http://www.mydestination.com/users/emday/bbb#.UUcZORxmiSo

Thoughts on Time

Time is a funny thing and physicists don't quite understand it. We can go up and down, left and right, back and forward and everything in between but try walking out of time and you might as well try flying by flapping your arms. Everyone knows that time only flows one way. Time goes forward and we are carried along with it. We can't step out of it and go backwards or sideways just ever forwards into the unknown. We are anchored in time but is time similarly anchored to us?

How many times have you gone to phone someone only to have them call you? People talk of coincidence and premonitions but what if it is more? As an adolescent I struggled with depression. There was no rhyme or reason and nothing to trigger it. I maintain to this day that I had no idea what was coming to me. I never imagined Jonathan would be taken from us far too soon and that one day my life would be blown to pieces in such a silent way. In the aftermath I struggled and I suffered as I have never suffered before but I had some emotional tools at hand because I had suffered before, all be it a shadow of what I suffered then. Now I look back and think..... Can something that has that big an impact defy what we know of time? Can the echoes go backwards as well as forwards? Four years on and life has reached something of an equilibrium point. I have a new normal and I am happy with it even if it does provide its own stresses and challenges. Yet sometimes I have to relive that day. Occasionally my brain insists on replaying the moments my life splintered in a horrifyingly real nightmare. The police, the stairs, the relatives room and finally Jonathan. Jonathan lying still and alone. Jonathan as I had never seen him yet still I asked "Is there any chance?" Knowing there wasn't hoping with all I had there was. It plays in my head in seconds yet it took hours. The day my life shattered. It is a moment in time that has forever changed me. It will affect me and my decisions for the rest of my life, is it really so hard to believe that it might have affected me before it even happened? Is cursed ground really cursed or do the echoes of future tragedy make it feel so? Are premonitions not us looking forward but is feeling the echo bouncing back just as it will bounce forward in the way we all know and accept as normal? The equations allow one to go backwards so maybe it does but we are just unable to comprehend it. Maybe time, like so many other physical phenomenon is simply more complex than we can imagine.

Thoughts: Still Fighting

Almost Four Years on and I still get those lost days. Days when I look at my life and wonder did I make the right choices? Am I doing it right? Or am I completely off course and lost and not even realising it? I know from experience that my life is more than the sum of its parts. I had a good life before and I gave it all up to travel to Australia. I had a secure life even though it didn’t feel that way. Now my life is by its very nature uncertain. I used to prefer that as the security I had before felt like a lie whereas the uncertainty I face now felt more honest. Now I’m not so sure.

I don’t have to do the kind of work I do. I could find a ‘real’ job and settle down but I don’t think I’m ready for that yet. Four years and I still don’t want to face that day. I don’t want to remember that he isn’t here and will never be again. Yet I have to. I have to get past this. Every year I let that date influence my life, death wins. I have fought for so long to live my life and to embrace all life has to offer. Why does it have to be a fight? Why can’t it be a joyous acceptance? Sometimes it feels like every good day, every happy memory is something I have fought for. Something I had to struggle to obtain. Should it really be this hard to be happy? Is it always a struggle or does it just feel like that because the dark clouds are closing in again?

They say that you can’t wait for happiness to find you, you have to go and look for it. I guess I thought that once I found it then it might stay put so I could enjoy it but it seems as soon as I find it it’s moving on again like an eternal game of hide and seek.

----------------------

Since first writing this I’ve felt happy again. I even believe I am happy but the next hard date is round the corners so once again I’m wondering how long it will last. The thing is happiness never lasts but I need to remember that it does come round again and again and again. So what if sometimes I have to fight for it? Don’t they say if it’s worth having it’s worth fighting for? And I’m not always fighting. Occasionally someone says or does something for me and happiness is gifted to me without any effort on my part. It’s not always a fight but when it is then I know I’ve earned my happiness and maybe that’s something I need to think about more. After all you can’t have rainbows without the rain and it’s the heaviest rain that produces the brightest of them all. 

Thoughts: The Widder Paradox

I wish I had met him. I have lost count of the number of time someone has said this to me or I had said or thought it about a friends deceased partner. I talk about Jonathan a lot. He was a big part of my life and his death was the most influential event in my life since meeting him back in 1999. When I talk honestly about why I decided to come to Australia I talk about his death which leads me to talk about his life. Jonathan was a great guy and I am fortunate that I was able to be with him for ten years and to love and be loved by him always. I like to talk about some of the daft and fun things together and I love to remember how he made me feel. Thus people get to know him and inevitably comes the ‘I wish....’. The thing is I wish too. I wish that he was here seeing and doing all the wonderful things I am seeing and doing. I don’t pine for our old life. I don’t wish for mini-me’s running about the place raising hell – trust me they would. I don’t miss the snow, the rain or any of the other crappy UK weather. I kind of miss my physics but not the last proper job, sorry last proper job, it wasn’t you it was me, honest. I DO miss Jonathan. I miss him like crazy sometimes and I miss him in a gentle used to it kind of way the rest of the time but whatever happens, where ever I go and what ever I do I miss him. I love my new life. I get to do very cool things and meet amazing people I just wish that he was here too. Except if he were here he wouldn’t be because I wouldn’t be. We’d be in the UK moaning about the weather planning out next trip to the sun or maybe even mini-terrors, sorry children. I wouldn’t know about this life so I wouldn’t miss it. Do I want that life? If it means having him yes of course I do. But better I’d quite like this life and him. Of course I get neither so I have to settle for this life and occasionally allowing myself the odd “I wish” and “if only” because no matter how illogical they are I’m only human.

Thoughts on New Years Eve Number Four

As another year was coming to an end instead of the dread I had felt in the previous few years I found myself looking forward to Christmas. I would be staying with one of my closest friends and seeing a few more good ones along the way. I was finishing up at work and moving on to new places in the new year. I would be travelling again but this time with money in the bank. Life was good. I arrived at my friends house to find Christmas in full swing. I had enjoyed catching up with her on the car journey back from the airport and it was lovely to see her family again on my arrival. I felt truly welcome and wanted. To celebrate this feeling I made sure to post as many photos and updates as I could during the day so my families back home could see my Christmas, I even left skype on so that they could contact me whenever they were available in the hopes of speaking to them on the day itself. Despite only managing a very jumpy skype call with my parents and brother and not managing to speak to my inlaws at all I enjoyed sharing my day with my online friends via facebook almost as  much as I enjoyed sharing it with my friends family. New Year though is a different kettle of fish.

Christmas was always my favourite day with Jonathan preferring New Years Eve. He loved to bring in the New Year with a wee dram with his closet friends and family. I guess that is why I enjoyed Christmas yet still felt apprehensive as another year was due to start. Of course there is also the obvious of it’s yet another year without him. I was invited to spend New Years with the same family I shared Christmas with but found myself being very indecisive. I knew I would enjoy their company but I wasn’t sure they would enjoy mine! In the end I had the opportunity to go into the city and see the fireworks with another good friend.  It was the right thing to do. I loved the fireworks. I’ve always loved fireworks and the Sydney New Year show is definitely something anyone should see at least once if they can. I was excited and with friends but I was also sad. It still hurts to know this is yet another year Jonathan never got the chance to experience. It was also the first year in a long time where I didn’t have a whisky to bring in the New Year, instead I had a very Aussie glass of wine.

It’s hard to explain. I didn’t cry and there wasn’t any outward show of tremendous grief like there has been in previous year, just this sad acceptance of he’s not hear when he should be.

I’m not sure if my friends really get that I still feel this way and since I often fail to recognise my actions for what they are until after the fact I rarely tell them but I do know that they got me through. The ones who shared their Christmas celebrations with me gave me laughter and joy on what has previously been a difficult day, the ones who shared New Year with me gave me something else to focus on and they all were just there. I am constantly amazed at how people don’t understand the value of simply being there, of letting me be whatever I feel and am without question.

So the beginning of 2013 was a sad and started with me missing Jonathan but before the day was out I was back to me. By the time the clock struck midnight again I was back at peace with myself and my life and looking forward to my next adventure. Four years ago I never thought that I would be here writing these words or anything like them, but I am. I am here and I am alive and I am loving life. So if you are reading this and you were miserable and sad and lonely over the season, even (especially?) when you were surrounded by those you love know this, it will pass and it can get better. It takes a hell of a lot of effort and a fair bit of time but we’ll get there in the end and it will worth it.

Thoughts on Taking a Break

Way back in June I decided that it was time to take back control of my life which included giving up alcohol for a while. I felt that I had taken the living life in the moment concept too far, my lifestyle and my personality were conflicted and my grieving process had hit a brick wall. In short I felt like I was a complete mess. Therefore when I arrived in Australia, much too some peoples chagrin, I stuck to my no drinking rule. When my funds got low I accepted that the sensible thing to do would be to get a job in Perth and stay put instead of trying to travel north and run out of money somewhere along the way with no idea if I could find employment or not. When it became obvious that I wasn’t settling in Perth I saved as much as I could and moved on as soon as I felt I had enough money to live off of whilst I job hunted. I even postponed my plans to tour the west coast and flew straight to Broome on the understanding that I shouldn’t spend the money I had until I knew there would be more coming in to replace it.

Once more I was fortunate enough to find work quickly but my caution was well deserved as I needed to live off my savings whilst I waited for my first pay. Once I was earning I let myself go a little. Instead of saving I spent my wages on tours as though I hope to tour the west coast next May I wanted to see what I could whilst I was here since I am well aware that plans don’t always work out. Once the tours started to stop I started to save and study. Though I hadn’t planned it this way as well as stopping drinking I also stopped socialising. I wasn’t in any hurry to make friends and the people I did get to know were mostly by accident; the odd person passing through Broome on their way north or south and of course my study buddy. Instead of taking a break from drinking I ended up taking a break from life. I got lonely and I missed my friends but I saved and I studied and I knew I was building something for my future. Through my counselling sessions I realised that I also have a few trust issues. I don’t trust myself to be a good judge of character which has made me hesitant about trying to form new friendships. What if I trust the wrong person?

Well in the last few weeks I have rejoined the human race. It has involved some drinking but not a lot and not often. I’ve made friends with some people that I think I shall not mind leaving behind but I also made friends with some people who I am sad to leave behind (or be left behind my in two cases!). I’ve often read that is the things we don’t do that we regret the most and I think that I finally understand this. Yes I have done some stupid things in my past but mostly those things now make me smile at their ridiculousness or sheer idiocy however I needed this time out. I needed to go to the other extreme of control so I could fully appreciate that there is a happy medium. I’m not sure where that medium is yet but for the first time in over three years I feel like I am me. Not the me I was before Jonathan died or even the me before I met him, I am the new me and I am starting to grow comfortable with who that is. It’s hard and there is guilt because Jonathan never got to find out who he was without me. There is guilt because I love my life and have no desire for a life that resembles my old life in any way. That doesn’t mean I am glad Jonathan is gone or I wouldn’t have him and our life back in a heartbeat it just means I don’t want that life without him. If I meet someone else they’ll be very different because I am so different and I want different things. I realised a lot of this last year when I was travelling but I ignored the guilt. I pretended that the two lives were separate and unconnected. My time out has given me time to start to accept that they are not separate and I can be grateful for what I have without taking anything away from what I had. The guilt is still there but now I know it’s there and that means I can start working out what to do about it. For now though I think I’ll work on the acceptance of the new me and my new life. After all I know that all my friends, families and especially Jonathan would want me to be happy with how things are because no amount of guilt, wishing or anything else will make it how I though it should be once upon a time.

Thoughts on Staying Put

Sometimes you have to stay put to move forward. This is the lesson I’m learning in Broome. I’ve recently had my first counselling session in years and whilst I know I have come a long way, especially in the last two years, it helped me realise that I still have a ways to go. My counsellor really seemed to understand how I think. She said that I sounded like I was travelling towards something rather than running away, and we all know how I feel about that last phrase. Despite the fact that I have had some hairy moments since arriving back in Australia it took me two months of living in Broome to get to that first appointment. I used the usual excuses, “Everybody has bad days” and “It’s just part of the grieving process”  and my favourite “I’m over reacting”. The thing is whilst these are all true they don’t mean that counselling won’t help me. I was fortunate to get some extremely successful counselling in my early twenties and that gave me some great techniques for dealing with my ‘issues’ but the thing is grief has given me new issues. I have trust issues like never before, I suffer from bouts of paranoia where the world is out to get me and of course I get depressed. I know that these reactions are due to my hormones and other chemicals in my body going a little haywire. Right now I’m in a good place and I know that I work and live with lovely people who are quite happy to pass a few minutes conversation with me if I make the effort. When the dark moods strike though it’s hard to remember that and some of my old coping mechanisms simply no longer apply or are not possible in my new life. That’s where the counselling comes in. My friends and family love me but I love them too. There is only so much you can put on to those you love no matter how willing they are to take more. Counselling is a safe space where I can let it all out and be guided back to the good places by someone who cares but cannot be hurt by anything I say. She won’t try to fix me, she doesn’t think I’m broken, she simply understands I am in a place where I need to re-evaluate my attitudes and work out where I want to go next in my head and is happy to help me do that.

It’s not just emotionally that staying put can help me move forward though. I am once again supposed to be working on my TEFL course. By staying in one place long enough to dedicate time to this course I am laying the ground work for future travels. By working and not socialising I am saving enough money to be able to travel round more of Australia. I’d love to say the rest of Australia but it is far too big to be seen in even two years. One would need a life time and I’m sorry, as much as I love it here the world is too big and exciting to dedicate that much time to one place: even a place as fabulous as Australia, which leads me to my work. My work has taught me some valuable new skills. My waitressing has improved and my confidence in my customer service skills is at an all time high though I understand I still have a lot to learn about the hospitality industry. In fact I have decided that my next job should be in either a coffee place so I can improve my fledgling barista skills or in a fine dining restaurant so I can improve my waitressing skills. Fine dining would involve having to learn how to open wine prettily at the table not to mention that I shall have to stop dropping cutlery whilst clearing tables but baristas get up early, like really early, and I am definitely not a morning person. Both avenues have their pros and cons but either way it is my current job that has given me the foundation skills and confidence to pursue them.

I’m not going to lie. I want to move on. Life is boring right now but then that’s what happens when you decide that the credit card is not a viable option for day-to-day living. Boring means knowing where that I have enough money to eat and live for more than a few days should I suddenly become unemployed. Boring means I can afford to go home at a moment’s notice if need be. Boring means preparing for the future and more importantly, believing that the future is worth waiting for. Adventure is calling to me but this time it’s going to have to wait a little longer.

Thoughts On The Fear Of Losing It All Over Again

I have occasionally joked that I am not afraid of anything except spiders. As you can imagine this isn’t exactly true, for one thing I detest cockroaches and other flying bugs. I have been called brave because I indulge my passion for travel and new places but there is a price to pay for this. The price is fear. I love my life. I currently live in a beautiful place, have a good job with decent people and even have a few friends at the hostel. Life is good, very good and this terrifies me. Whilst I like my job and believe that I am rather good at it I have been worrying that others do not think so and that I shall not be able to keep it as we move in to the off season and the other day I realised why. It’s nothing that’s been said or done by my bosses or co-workers it’s my past. I had a good life once, in fact a great life. I was happy and thought I had it all sussed then one day without warning it was gone. I realised now that subconsciously I have been waiting for this to happen all over again. I’ve been waiting for my new life to be taken away from me too.

It’s so obvious when I think about it and I can see how it has coloured my behaviour. I have survived having my life shattered once and I believe if it happens again I would survive that too but of course I don’t want to. However losing this job wouldn’t be life shattering, just a little disappointing. I have to believe in myself. I have to believe that if it doesn’t work here then I shall pick myself up and move on like I have done many times before. Hopefully it won’t come to that though.

Seeing my behaviour for what it is means I am able to change it. At work I am being more proactive about learning more skills and showing how flexible I can be. I am pushing myself forward and commenting when I think I’ve done a good job instead of pointing out my mistakes. I’m working at being the best me I can and even if after all that there aren’t enough hours then I shall move on. I have learnt a lot over the last couple of months in Broome. My restaurant and bar skills have improved and expanded and now I feel I have taken yet another step in accepting and embracing my new life.  Like every place I have visited before Broome has changed me and this time I feel those changes are for the better. Having said that I really hope my time here isn’t over yet.

Thoughts Three and a Half Years Later: The build up, the break and a different kind of love

On Monday the 17^th September I had been widowed for exactly three years and six months. Most of the time these days I am at peace with my life but there are four times of the year I struggle with.  Jonathan’s birthday and the year anniversary are obvious ones but the other two I struggle with are Christmas and the six month points. I think it’s the point where I am moving away from one number to the next. It is now nearer four years since Jonathan died than three and it still feels wrong.

As part of an online conversation a friend of mine commented that she must have missed the news of me falling in love and my response was that I was in love with travelling. In a way I have fallen in love, not with a person but with my life. I cannot believe I am lucky enough to live this life. I work hard but the payoff is amazing. I am happy. Great you say but in a way it makes the hard days harder. How can I be so happy when he is gone? I know he would be proud of me and happy for me but there are times where I feel incredibly guilty especially on these days where I cannot help but remember that he is gone rather than remember that he was here.

I know what it is and I understand where it comes from and that it’s not useful but it is what it is. It is grief. It is survivors’ guilt. I am incredibly hard on myself at these times. I seek to find fault and punish myself for the smallest mistake. I am difficult and awkward with people in an effort to distance them from me. I know Jonathan’s death was not my fault and that it is wonderful that I am still here even if he isn’t but the very human illogical part of me needs to be punished because the guilt is there. There is no getting round it or away from it. I am here and he isn’t and it’s not fair. It’s not my fault but there it is. I am only human. So the build up goes. I get more touchy and more critical of myself and then the day comes. On the day I am sad that he is not here. I don’t take the joy I usually do in my life and even when I do something amazing it lacks something. I still think doing something amazing is better than hiding in my bed but it’s never as good as I think it would be if I did it on another day. I didn’t throw myself into whale watching trip like I usually would. I didn’t have the balance of experience and photography I have been striving for as I hid behind the safety of the camera lens. Yet by the end of the trip I was smiling. It didn’t help that it was in the morning and I had to get up for it, I really am not a morning person and it takes me hours to wake up but that was only a small part of it on this day. The first person to try and talk to me I just wanted to go away. I was annoyed as I knew it was her job to be friendly but I didn’t want friendly I just wanted a quiet place to take my photos and remember/forget but as we headed back to shore at the end of the cruise I was in a better frame of mind. The mother and calf whale we found and the sea journey itself had calmed me. I wasn’t happy but I was more at peace and managed to have a normal conversation with a few of the other passengers.

After a mid-afternoon snooze a skype chat with a good friend then another with Jonathan’s parents I was still tired and sad but in my usual way. Jonathan’s mother took her laptop out to his garden so I could see it and that helped as I could see ‘him’ and blow ‘him’ a kiss and say I love you. The storm had broken and passed and the next day in work I was a different person. I was smiling not my slightly manic I’m-alright-really-I-am smile but a genuine I’m-sad -but-I’m-ok smile. I’m back on track to remembering how fabulous my life is. Yes there is a part of me that is sad and wishes life were otherwise but it’s back where it belongs, tucked away in the what-might-have-been-but-is-impossible-now place in my heart that keeps my happy memories safe so I can enjoy the life I have now and make more different happy memories. Memories which will fill the new parts of my heart that grow every day I remember it’s good to love the life I have just as I love the life I used to have. Not as a replacement, not more, not less, just differently.