Appropriate Grief - The Degrees of Separation

So.....how well did you know him?

Andrew was a friend of mine. I knew him through my history of musical theatre. We had done several shows together, me on stage and he and his wife backstage. My mother was a good friend of theirs and consequently I was invited to attend social gatherings at his place. That is how well I knew Andrew. Knew. I can no longer say that is how I know Andrew. Because he passed away this morning. And in the blink of an eye, Andrew has become past hence.

I'm writing today from a place of sadness and grief. And a fair amount of shock too. Because although my mother says she told me in January, I swear I only found out he was sick on Friday last week (she may have told me, I did write a whole blog on how vague I can be at times - all the time). And all of a sudden he is gone. Wow.

I remember when I was about 15 my Nana passed away. My dad called us as we were walking to school, and then came up to the school office to see how we were. I was more concerned with how he would be. And Nana had been sick for a very long time so it was somewhat expected. In fact, we had been up to Sydney to visit her just the previous weekend, to say goodbye. And you know one of the things I remember people saying when they first found out? Were you close to her?

Or in other words, how sad are you? How should I respond to you? How deeply are your feeling these emotions and which box can I put this in? Are you:

1. Momentarily upset, 
2. Stoic but strong,
3. Crying and sensitive,
4. Deeply saddened, on the long term scale, or
5. Irrepairably distraught beyond words.

So whenever anyone I knew passed away from that moment on, that is how I felt I needed to explain myself to others, to give them fair warning so they can adjust their level of care and support that they may feel they need to give to me. How odd.

But I don't want to say that my friend Andrew, who I probably only saw once a year on Australia Day but don't see anymore because they moved to QLD, wasn't a close friend. Or that I haven't seen him for about 4 years now. Because perhaps in your mind that may bump my grief down a few notches on the scale of 1 to 5. That perhaps I don't have a right to grieve with whatever force I wish to. That it is appropriate for me to mourn him momentarily, but as he wasn't in direct or regular contact with me, I probably shouldn't get too carried away with tears and long term sad thoughts of times gone by.

But you know what? I say you are wrong. As I take joy in any baby news I hear, I also take sadness in any death I hear of. And when it is someone I know, who at any stage in my life I have loved as a friend, I will grieve that loss in whatever manner I see fit, regardless of how much I 'should' take on board.

I have experienced varying degrees of grieve through my lifetime. I know the loss of a child can be an irreversible trauma, and the loss of a grandparent can be a peaceful, yet sad acceptance. I know the loss of a young person brings up so much anger and frustration, and that a tragic and shocking accident is no easier to deal with than being prepared for the end after a long, drawn out and painful illness. I know what it is like to cry at a picture or at the sound of a song 5 years later, with grief that is as new as the day it arrived.

And I know how it feels to be judged for not grieving the appropriate way, for the appropriate time. For offending others when trying to reach out a hand in unity, for showing too much emotion or not enough. For yet again struggling to understand death - the concept that someone ceases to exist as of a second on a clock. Yes, I believe in an afterlife. But I'm talking about that person ceasing to exist in the world I know right now. Earth! That there will be a time that the world will function without (insert whoever you wish here).

At some point in time this morning, Andrew no longer was Andrew. All of a sudden, his body was just a body and was no longer him as a person. And Di, his beautiful wife, is expected to leave him at the hospital, to walk away from him at the end of today and perhaps never look upon his face in person again. To go home to their bed. Drive their car? Open their fridge. Her fridge. Her car. Her bed. All within an instant.

So tonight I am simply grieving. Grieving that the world has lost a fantastic man today. A man who loves a good laugh, good company and good food. Whose wife loved him endlessly and who will now live on without him. It is sad. So sad. And I may not be in their inner circle of friends and family, but I will pay my respect to him by grieving him in the truest fashion I can. For he deserves to be grieved appropriately.... but this time that appropriateness will be decided by those who grieve him, not the onlookers.

Rest in Peace Andrew, until we meet again.
LG.

Hey Parents...Don't Forget Your Relationship!!!

Taking some time back....

Greg and I have been together for 9 years this May and we have had some absolutely wonderful times. And some tough times too. But mostly, we have cruised along through life with ease. Ease with each other, ease with the wider world, ease with our life. It isn't hard for us to be together. We agreed on a lot and pick our battles strategically when we don't. It works in our favour that we are both almost as laid back as each other, because we don't sweat the small stuff, mostly because we couldn't be bothered with the toothpaste/toilet seat/hanging of clothes argument. Over the 6 years we have lived together our roles have formed and mostly we are agreement of them. I particularly like our renovating roles. I pick colours and occasionally suggest ideas, whereas Greg states what we need, and considers all the details that are required for it to happen. Oh, and he does most of the hard work too. Perfect.

We got used to living as a couple, and while we have had the occasional house guests who temporarily stayed with us, it always returned to us. The 2 of us living in our precious little bubble of happiness, comfort and easy laughs....mostly at each others expense.

So when Lucy moved in (Greg tells me this is an off way of putting it) it took some adjusting to our couple becoming a threesome. Instantly we loved it, but over time we noticed there would be moments when we realised we still hadn't got used to (insert baby activity/property/toys/noise here). We couldn't contain our excitement to bring Lucy home and show her around. We'd tell her 'here is your fridge Lucy, here is your lounge, and this is your backyard'. Everything that was ours of course became hers.

The first night we were home with her which was her second night on the outside, we put her down and fell into bed ourselves. We had been running on adrenaline for the past 48hours and no one had slept properly. I hadn't slept for 72 hours so I was well tired and when my head hit my pillow I was immediate out to it. I'm not sure how long I slept, but I abruptly woke to her cries in the night and jumped out of bed (a move I wouldn't advise after giving birth so recently) most upset. Not upset because I had been woken. Not upset that she was crying. But upset because I, in my sleepy exhausted state, had completely forgotten about her existence! 'OMG Greg! I forgot we had a baby!!! How long has she been crying for?!' And so it begun. My sleepy awareness of Lucy in our house.

And I wasn't just aware of her in our house. I woke up every night either sleep talking, or physically searching for her in our bed and our room. In frantic whisper I would say 'GREG! Is Lucy in bed with us!?' I can't count the amount of times I had dreamt she was caught under our covers, or the amount of times I'd be patting Greg down to try and find her (lucky man). One night, in my sleep, I thought I had found her and tried to lift her up under her arms so I could take her off to her bed. But I woke with frustration, and it took me a second to realise that the reason I couldn't lift her wasn't because she was really heavy, but because I was actually trying to lift Greg out of bed while he was sleeping soundly. Poor Greg. This continued for at least 6 months straight...every night without fail. I am finally sleeping a little better now, although I still freak out occasionally.

At almost a year old, we have just started to leave her to be babysat...which is a blessing for not only us but also for whoever gets to spend that time with Lucy. Before I had her, I thought that I would be able to leave her a lot earlier than I have, but with breast feeding and such a deep connection to her that I hadn't expected, it has only just become possible. To be honest, I didn't really ever want to be without her before. I still don't. But I have found it is good for both of us to have some time apart, she has fun and I get some me time.

But I have grown ready for some adults only time again. Our life for the past year has been Lucy centred, and so it should have been. She deserves that and we wouldn't have been able to do anything else. But as Greg and I watched How I Met Your Mother last night, curled up on the lounge after Lucy had gone to bed, we watched these friends (who are very similar to ours) get together at their local bar and just enjoy themselves, and for the first time in a long time, we longed to be with our friends, sans Lucy. Sans all babies. For one night only, just be together and have conversations that aren't about our children. To drink too much, tell stories and laugh loudly without the worries of baby monitors, being quiet for the sleeping bubs, or cleaning the bottles for tomorrows feeds. Without soaking bibs. Without sorting out the Child Care Benefit/Rebate. And without it being all about Lucy.

A selfish moment in time, I'll admit. And please, don't misunderstand this - nowhere in this moment was there any resentment or regret for our daughter that we chose after 5 years of marriage to bring into this world. Who we love with more emotion we thought possible. For those who know me or read this blog, you also know how devoted I am to my Lucy, how all consuming my love for her is. No, not resentment or regret.

But even though we have a baby, we are still here as people, individually Lauren and Greg, not just Lucy's mum and dad, although those positions are very precious. A simple yearning for our grown up lives to continue because we are still grown ups. The lives that allow us to hold intelligent conversations about things other than the colour/texture/smell of Lucy's poo, or how much she has eaten that day, and how many times she woke up last night.

She is the best, most exciting thing to have ever happened to us. And I feel mothers guilt for writing this blog today, because I would hate for your to misunderstand what I am saying. My love for her is all consuming, and my devotion to her is never ending, and her novelty will never wear off. I am no less the mother I was yesterday, and no less interested in her. When we became a family, our little threesome was perfect, and still is. But we have come to realise that while she is still the best and most exciting thing in our lives, that we also need other interests too.

Greg and I have a relationship that existed pre-Lucy. And she is a result of the love in our relationship. And it is important to me to maintain our relationship by investing time into it. Caring for Greg is just as important as caring for Lucy (although, I'm not going to be changing his pants any time soon!), and I feel that it is now time to make sure we spend some time together when we get the chance too. And allow Lucy to have fun with her family and friends and have an afternoon off from us occasionally too.

The love I have for Lucy and Greg can't compare. I love them both more than life itself. I loved Greg as a friend, then fell in love with him. And I never want there to be a time when he is not mine, and I am not his. The love I feel for Lucy blinds me against everything else. She was created by us. And I love Greg all the more for giving me the gift of Lucy.

But Lucy will grow up and leave our nest one day soon (it feels like it will be soon anyway...this past 12 months has flown by all too quickly!) and it will return to just me and Greg. And I want to know then that we love each other just as much as we do now, if not more. And that doesn't just happen. Because our relationship cannot be forgotten in the wonder that is Lucy and the seduction of making our lives all about/ and only about her. I want her to grow up seeing her mother and father not only giving their time to her, but also prioritising time for each other, and remembering to care for each other as a couple, aside from the fact that we are her parents.

So we are looking forward to some time spent together as grown ups in the future. Time where for just a few hours, or perhaps maybe even a night, it is about Greg and I again. Whether that's with our friends pretending to be as cool as Marshall, Lily, Barney, Ted and Robyn, or as a couple just enjoying each others company.

Of younger days gone by.

Ciao for now,

LG, Life's Great!

Just Waiting For Bad News.......

It can't always be this good.......


I've had a feeling of dread since Saturday morning when Lucy woke at 4am and cried for 90 minutes without relief. Rivers of snot poured out her little nose and she screamed even harder each time I tried to wipe it away. Poor little munchkin just wanted to sleep but couldn't breath through her nose. I did what I could and eventually cuddled her enough to calm her down and at 5.30 she finally drifted back off to sleep. Now Greg has been pulling some big hours this past few weeks helping out a mate and had planned to get up at 6am, instead he got up when Lucy went down. I worried that he would be too tired to make it to work safely, and too tired to make it home at the end of the day.


I got a message from him when I woke up - 'call me as soon as you wake up'. I don't know about you, but when I see something like that, I expect the absolute worst. My heart skipped a beat and I could dial his number quick enough. 'Honey, are you okay!?' 'Yeah, I need you to pick up something from work and bring it out at lunch time'. Bloody hell! And from that moment onwards, I was just waiting for something awful to occur.


It was one of those days, when you think about how lucky you have been lately and how you really should be due for some bad luck soon. Isn't that a shocking way to feel. Occasionally I will have days like this, when you just can't shake that horrid feeling of doom and gloom. Waiting for something horrendous to happen. Looking for things that you are sure are lurking just around the corner.


I have trouble seeing our future. And I don't mean in a psychic kind of way.... more in an imaginary kind of way. I use to dream of a house, a husband and children. And I have that, so perhaps I am not sure what to dream of next. And I have wondered if that could mean I may not have a long term future, that for some reason I am not destined to be here forever. And no, I am not depressed or suicidal, nor am I wishing this upon myself (thank you universe believers). I just have never imagined our life beyond the next 5 years or so and sometimes I wonder why I can't see it.


So with this tragic state of mind in place, I felt very grateful to get through yesterday safely and have no horrid news delivered. But I was still feeling a little cranky today, unable to shake this cloud of mild anxiety off my shoulders. It should have been a happy day. I had Greg home with us for the first time all week, we did a big shop at Costco (yay!) and Lucy was off to spend the afternoon with her uncle and auntie for a play, which meant that I had Greg all to myself. My brother and his girlfriend came and picked up Lucy in my car and off they went. And in true romantic style, Greg and I hit the bed immediately after Lucy left like any parents of an infant would....to sleep. Poor Greg had been pulling ridiculous hours all week, and I was tired from acting as a single mother all week (I don't know how you girls do it). So we cuddled up under the covered and crashed the moment our heads hit the pillow...only to be awoken very rudely by a knock at the front door not half an hour later.


Our first thought was shhhhh, don't move. We didn't care who it was, they were not going to interrupt our second afternoon alone together in almost a year. No way. And as they walked down the stairs, Greg peeked and got quite the surprise. It wasn't any friends or family of ours, not neighbours or do-gooders or salespeople.


It was the police.


Tell me what you think when you see the police in your front yard. Well, I'm not sure about you but my first thought was of Lucy. And my second was of my parents, who I know both have me listed as a contact in case of emergency. They left as quickly as they arrived, before we got a chance to get to the front door. And we were left wondering........why had they come.


We are law abiding citizens. We have no reason for them to visit out of the blue. We hadn't done anything wrong lately (ever). All I could think of were worst case scenarios. Mick and KJ had been in an accident with Lucy. Something had happened to Mum or Dad. What if it was news of Greg's parents. My heart was in my throat and I felt like vomiting.


So I thought I'd alleviate my stress by sending a quick message to my brother to make sure all was well. After 10 minutes with no response, my nerves got the better of me so I called his phone. Message bank. Doing my best to calm my pounding heart, I called KJ. Message bank. Just as I was about to call her business phone, Mick called me. And I have never been so pleased to see his name flash up on my phone. No problems, all was well, they had been playing with Lucy and she was doing great. Far out!


Greg had told me not to worry, that either the police had the wrong house or they were here for something else mundane. KJ called me a little while later to see if I knew why they had come. And you know what she said to me as we were discussing how scary it had been. 'Oh, hold on Lauren. Your mum has just turned up at our house with a box of tissues.....oh no. I'll go and find out what is going on.' And an excruciating few seconds passed when I felt my life being turned upside down by a host of imaginary dramas. And then I got an answer........'Oh no, its a book, not tissues! You're mum is fine!'


Bloody hell!


Talk about being on edge. All this waiting for something awful to happen was doing my head in, and those bloody cops popping past our house was just a nightmare. Then Mum looking like she was carrying tissues. And my daughter not being safe in my arms (although, clearly she was safe in their arms instead). BLOODY HELL!


Yet here I am on Sunday night, still safe with my love ones safe too. You can't live your life expecting shit to happen....because who knows when it will happen. I only know that it will happen eventually. Because we can't all live forever. And people near and dear to us do pass away from tragic sickness, old age, and shocking accidents. But expecting these things to happen doesn't bring them into fruition. Expecting them not to happen won't protect me from them either. All I can do is ride my feelings as they come and just know that when these moments do arrive, I hope to have the courage to weather those storms, and be a pillar of strength to others around me when their storms roll in.

My nerves are shot. I'm going to bed.


Ciao for now,
LG, Life's Great!