Dear Darl, it’s 30 December, 2011.

669 days…

Lately, when I am on the treadmill in the mornings, I’ve taken to holding onto the bars, shutting my eyes and zoning out for the 40 or so minutes I’m on there for.  (The ‘holding on’ is necessary or I’ll fall off the blessed thing).

Well, OK, not all that time … I need to spend the first 5 minutes moaning, watching the timer countdown, watching my pulse rate climb from 72 to 155 bpm, and feeling like I may die any minute from the sheer exertion … but after that when I settle into a rhythm… I can zone out.

….and listen to music.

I’ve learned not to play The Luckiest or Last Day on Earth while I’m on  the treadmill though, or I can’t breathe for crying.

But this morning, Come Back Again by Daddy Cool was on the playlist and I remembered us dancing with wild abandon at a wedding.    Having fun with it.  Your strong arms around me. Busting out with silly crazy moves. Oblivious to all others.Laughing.

…and it was such s golden memory.

…but I really do need you to ‘come back again’

I miss you.

I love you.

XA

Dear Darl, it’s 25 December, 2011

664 days

Christmas Day …without you again.

But I got my Christmas present from you in that miraculous extra 20 minutes of sleep this morning ….via a vivid dream in which you were quite obviously dead, but still joking with me and holding me and generally chiacking about.

I managed to wake you up and your whole (dead) face just lit up when you saw me.  It was like coaxing someone out of a concussion … but you came out of it and were healthy and whole again within minutes … and ready to run amok.

It felt so good to see you, and have you hold me.

The best Christmas present there could have been.

Thank you my love.

I miss you.

I love you.

…..and I really do hope you are with me, laughing with me, holding me and generally mucking about…..

XA

Dear Darl, it’s 11/11/11

620 days….

I’d promised myself to post today.

All those 11’s lining up when they’ve been following me around since you died.

I look at a clock and it will read 11 past the hour.

I look at the treadmill to find that my pulse rate is 111.

I pay my bill and there are 11 cents in the total.

…and I always think of you…..11s for remembrance and all.

I like to think it IS you letting me know that you are there and that you love me.

… but after 20 months of 11s, that’s all I get.

Something like a wave….

… or a kiss blown from the window of a car.

So I’m asking you (God / the universe)  … if you can hear me … to grant me one wish for this magical day of 11s.

When I think of all these great life questions in my head, can you use the 11s to let me know if I’m on the right track?

If you can.

I need some way of knowing that you agree with me.

or disagree.

and that you are there, watching us, helping us, loving us.

please.

I miss you.

I love you.

11.11.11

XA

Dear Darl, it’s 26 August, 2011

542 days or 1 year, 5 months, 24 days

Birthday week has come and gone in a blur of excitement and emotion.

Surprisingly, I was upbeat for both the kids’ birthdays because I had awesome presents and had planned The Best Party Ever (according to the kids and their friends).

K’s birthday was a school day (for her, not me – I had that week off ).  I had managed to buy a cheap laptop which is something that she’s wanted for over a year and something that she is beginning to need for school (and hey  – I’m NOT sharing mine).  She was completely bowled over.  She’s currently playing maths games on it so I count it as a resounding win.

H’s birthday was the same day as their shared party.  I had managed to pick up a second hand DSLite for him – also something he has begged for and would never had got aside from a friend selling her daughter’s unwanted one cheaply.  I have a photo of the instant he realised what it was that will make an appearance at his 21st.  His expression is priceless.

But the party was HUGE!! I had booked Professor Jellybean as the entertainment and it was hands-down THE best party I’ve ever seen.  She brought all the equipment with her including tables and chairs as well as the science equipment.
She had brought lab coats and safety glasses for all the kids and they looked adorably geeky.
She was patient and methodical with the kids’ experiments where they turned agar into goo worms and made artificial snow.  To end off the afternoon, they let of “rockets” (large air-filled bags).

….and I knew you were right there with us.

I miss you.

I love you.

XA

Dear Darl, it’s August 12, 2011.

529 days….

Work has been getting me down.

Conversely, talking to you (yeah, I know nutter alert) is helping.  I really think you can hear me which is probably why I haven’t been writing as much.

As for work, I got offered permanency …. 2000 km away.

I had to turn it down.

I know my current school want me.

…because I managed to slip in the news of the job offer to all  three admin people…

… who assured me it was because I was at the top of the list…

…and again I’ve been given the nod for next year …in that they are trying to have me placed there but it will depend on what staffing say…

on what Staffing say

Yep Staffing: the same people who thought it might be a good idea to give me a placement far, far away from my support network, leave alone from your grave.

Gah.

They don’t get it.

Thankfully, my psychologist does and she has written an awesome letter stating that I should not be moved from my current area … nor should the children.

So I am still waiting to hear….

and I’m sick of waiting …

Dear Darl, it’s 24 July, 2011. Satisfaction.

510 days….

After becoming increasingly frustrated with the other, young (stupid, insensitive) teacher last week, I decided that I. Was. Done. helping her out.

This came after she brought her class down to our (enormous) oval about 20 minutes after us and set up within 10 m of my class for her fitness session.

I was winding up our science experiment which involved an unfair relay (easiest way to show kids that we need to be fair when we test in science is to make a game unfair).

She starts shouting instructions to her class WHILE I am talking to mine.  THEN she told some boys in my class to move because they were in the way.

FUCK it love – you have an entire oval to do your shit on and you bring your class within a few metres of mine and THEN complain???

…when I went over to ask her to give us some space  to finish up (quietly so the kids couldn’t hear) she said “it doesn’t really matter what you get done because you are only the supply teacher”.

Rioght.  It’s on Biatch.

I was civil to her for the rest of the week, but also  supremely unhelpful.
“So sorry, we are still using that equipment (that I brought from home), you’ll have to find something else to use”.
“Oh darn it, we finished up the remaining (resource I brought from home), you’ll have to find your own”.
“So sorry, I didn’t realise you wanted that – I only photocopied enough copies for my class”.

All done in my patented passive-aggressive style.

While I hate having to work like that, I felt so much freer and better.  I wasn’t frustrated.  I wasn’t feeling angry.  I wasn’t feeling upset. I was feeling on top of everything and I was flying!

… meanwhile, my class shone like the diamonds that they are.

….meanwhile, my kids begged me to stay until the end of the year.

….meanwhile, we got on with the business of  teaching and learning.

…..and meanwhile, the special ed teacher who works with some students in my class casually mentioned that the spec. ed unit was really happy with the work I’ve been doing with their kids.

….and meanwhile the spec ed aide that works in my class mentioned my work with the head of spec ed.

…. and meanwhile, the head of spec ed has passed on his recommendation that I be given my own class next year to the principal.

 I know.!!!!!

Nothing is set in stone.

I still might not get the job I want.

I still might get stupid, nasty, bullshit crap pulled on me from young idiots who think they know it all.

But that doesn’t matter to me, because it feels like my work has been noticed.

It feels like I have come out shining despite what seemed to be two deliberate attempts to disrupt my teaching*.

…and it feels like you had a hand in this.

…. it feels like you did some whispering for me.

Thank you.

I miss you.

I love you.

XA

 

 

*There was another incident earlier in the week involving a photocopier, me trying to be helpful, and a wild goose chase that could have put me in the wrong place at the wrong time were it not for a fabulous aide).

 

Dear Darl, it’s 11 July 2011. I felt you here….

497 days….

Pupil Free Day saw me go back to work while the kids spent the day with Julie and her girls.

Julie *really* is a godsend … she Gets This Shit in a way no other non-widowed person does.

…and she is just loving and helpful.

Always.

Work was fine, but for some reason, the powers that be planned a whole day of meetings which left very little time for 30+ teachers to use the single (1) photocopier during lunch break.  Thankfully, I have the power of the TA of Awsomez (Michelle) who sorted my photocopying for me.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Tonight, I heard Megan Washington sing “Underground” for the first time and wept ….. she has such a beautiful voice and the lyrics Really Got Me….

…maybe because the kids asked me some hard questions on whether I wanted to be cremated or buried and I honestly couldn’t tell them.  I don’t want to be buried under the ground and I don’t want to be burned to a crisp.  I honestly don’t know…

But those poignant words with the beautiful voice and acoustic guitar drew tears from my eyes which ran down my cheeks in rivers…

… and I felt that tingle, that sense that you were holding me, that you were standing behind me, engulfing me in your arms…

…when the lightbulb above me blew and I knew it was you.

thank you.

I needed that hug.

I miss you.

I love you.

XA

 

Dear Darl, it’s 4 July 2011.

490 days…

After a week of holidays, I’m still sick but on the mend .. I hope.

Being sick has meant that we’ve spent more time at home …which has been rather nice.

We’ve cleaned, we’ve done minor redecorating of bedrooms and wall art, I’ve reclined in luxury on a deck chair whilst reading a novel, Andrew came to visit for lunch, we watched movies, we baked, we played, we rode scooters, we gardened…. very relaxing …

Your sister J and her hubby came to visit us twice during the week.  I have to admit, that J has been wonderful to us of late.  She really misses you and I can tell she is so sad that you died when the family were at odds.|
…and now I am seeing that your brother GC is really only using me.  He needs to keep me on side because he wants the farm.  So when he called at 9pm last night, I knew it wasn’t a social call.  Of course he wanted something ….

~~~~~~~~~~~~

Pete and the girls arrived on Saturday afternoon, so we spent Sunday here on the deck … eating, crafting, talking …. very relaxing.

Then today Pete took the 4 littlest ones to see Cars 2 whilst the biggest one came with Mum and I to do girlie shopping …

It’s really been so nice to be with my brother and my nieces … they are having a hard time at the moment so it’s great for us all to be together.

…and it’s nice when family come together because they WANT to be together.

Not because they need free accommodation and childcare interspersed with long periods of no communication whatsoever ….. (no, I’m not cynical at ALL about your brother’s motives).

I wish you were here.

I *felt* you here a lot this week.

I’m almost sure I rested my head against your hip as you stood beside my deck chair.

Maybe it’s because I miss you so much.

Or maybe you can tell how sad I feel and you let me know.

I love you.

XA

Dear Darl, it’s June 12, 2011. The kindness of strangers

468 days…

I’ve felt you around a lot lately … maybe that’s why I haven’t felt the need to blog so much.

Little things.

Happy things.

Sad things.

Sobbing in the shower things.

… I felt it all and cried for me.

For ME!

Your life is over and so is mine.  I just have to keep alive for another 50 or so years.

All that potential.

All that positivity.

It’s finally broken.

I have always tried so hard … worked hard, studied hard, loved hard.

…and yet it has amounted to this life.

this life.

This life that had so much potential but now lies in tatters at my feet.

 

…and in the middle of all this self-pity, a girl you used to work with sent me this:

 It’s so hard to explain, I have lost my grandpa, my aunty, my uncle and my baby cousin and losing Greg and J was the hardest thing I have ever had to go through. I cannot even begin to feel what you and your family must go through every day, you are all truly in my thoughts all the time. I only worked with Greg for just over a year but I totally get it when you say he was a force of nature. I am glad that you still talk about him and you have your precious memories. He helped me in so many ways at [work] and I considered him a great friend. I am sure you have been told this by so many people but he was always talking about you and the kids and I guess that is why I wanted to let you know that you’re always in my heart because even though I have only seen you a few brief times I feel as though I know you a little better through all of his stories that he shared – I don’t think there was ever a day he didn’t come and tell me a story about you, K,  H or the farm.

I can’t picture this girl.  I don’t recall you talking about her that much… and yet she sent flowers on the anniversary of your death and then this message.

…. and instantly I  got this message in my head…

this message:

I am loved beyond measure.

…and the crushing sadness was chased away.

 

Dear Darl, it’s May 29, 2011. Some days I think I’ve come a long way….

454 days….

The kids had a ball at soccer again today (yes, I do crack myself up).

“Craig” wasn’t there so I had a good day too.

K actually *played* today and in the shoot out, it was discovered that not only is she the fastest runner, but she can also kick the ball the furthest of anyone on the team.

She just doesn’t like taking the ball away from someone else …. she is my daughter after all 😉

I was just looking back over some old posts and looked up the entry from a year ago….

 

89 days…

and I’m exhausted.  I’m sick of this shit.  I hate it.

I’m sorry for whatever I did that pissed God off so much that he had to take you away.    God definitely sent me more grief than I can cope with.  That or he’s got Fuck All idea of what “coping” looks like and has confused it with “crazy”. Its only through sheer willpower that I haven’t driven us all off to the funny farm today.  Well, willpower and the fact that I don’t quite know where the funny farm is anyway.

I need a day of to myself with some peace and quiet, with no kids fighting or whining, no sister-in-laws phoning me for a “chat” at 7am or 10pm (WTF is with that???), with a clean house, laundry done and put away, no more forms or new people I have to send certified copies of the death certificate to ….  and with lots of rainbows and the odd unicorn shooting glitter out of its arse.

A hotline to Heaven wouldn’t go astray either as would a day where I don’t cry so much my eyes and face ache with the pain of tears.

I miss you so bad I have a permanent ache in my chest.
I can see how it is possible to die from a broken heart…

 

While I still have days like this, it’s no longer all the time or even every day.

Now it’s more of a permeating sadness.

A functional sadness.

Less acute.

But still there.

….and I can see the progress I’ve made.

Go me!

Can I have a prize now???

I miss you.  That’s really the big thing right now.

Nobody else can fill your shoes.

I love you.

XA