Hard Questions and Even Harder Answers...

We all harbour questions that we would dearly like to ask someone, or many someone's, but never think we will be able to spill the words.  It's like you're too scared to ask because you don't really want to know the answer?  Or you know what the answer will be, and can't bare to think of what you will do with said answer?  Or is it just me?

I've just spent the weekend up in Queensland.  Had three days of pretending that I didn't have a care in the world - no kids to worry about, no work to get to and no alarms to set, because there was nowhere I had to be!  I stayed in an apartment with two lifelong friends, and we sat and chatted, ate cheese and drank wine.  Had a massage in our lounge room overlooking the surf.  Read a book.  READ A BOOK!!!!!  We also went out two nights in a row, and drank copius amounts of alcohol.  Something I really very rarely do!

I also saw my Dad.  I haven't seen him since he had his heart problems late last year, so it was lovely to see him in the flesh and note that he had put on some weight.  And for the first time in my 37 years, he did not smell of tobacco and nicotine.  A HUGE and noticeable change.  He picked me up from the airport on arrival and drove me up to my friend's parents house.  Back to the same neighbourhood we had lived for many years.  His memory is vague, and I had to remind him of where the house we used to live in was.  We sat and had lunch, and chatted about a range of topics and then said our goodbyes.  When my weekend was coming to an end, I called him again and arranged to meet up to spend the afternoon before I departed.  I was a little anxious and couldn't figure out why?  But only minutes after pulling in to the caravan park he calls home, I worked it out.  I hadn't been to my Dad's place of residence in almost 25 years!  14 of those I didn't even know where he resided, or whether he was in fact, even alive.....

He showed me around his humble little caravan, and pointed out that he'd had a massive clean up since kicking the cigarettes months ago.  It was freshly painted and he'd acquired a few pieces of newish furniture.  It was certainly very "homely".  But to be completely honest - I was sad.  I was sad that the man who had spent the first 12 years of my life being my Dad, providing for me and making a great life for his family, had ended up in a caravan park.  Don't get me wrong - I have nothing against people who live in caravan parks!  I spent a couple of years myself living in one, after my Dad had lost all that we owned through his gambling habit, and my Mum and Step Dad were left to pick up the pieces.  SO I know all about people who live in caravan parks.  BUT - this one little caravan and its contents were all that my Dad has to show for his almost 70 years of life.  And it saddens me.

Anyway, I soon got over that sadness and got a royal tour!  Met all the locals, including his friend "Dot" whom I spoke to on the phone during Dad's stint in hospital.  She was the one who explained that he was very sick and required triple bypass surgery, and all that goes along with what that meant.  Lovely lady, even more lovely that I know she's looking out for my Dad.

I took a Nana Nap on his couch until it was time to leave for the airport again.  We grabbed some dinner in the departure lounge and chatted some more.  I can't remember what we were talking about, but I finally got the courage up to ask one of a million questions I'd been wanting to ask over the years - "Do you ever look back?".........  He did not hesitate in his answering, and I felt a wave of relief wash over me, that I was finally going to be able to hear my Dad apologise for all that happened.  "Oh, of course I look back, I look back and think how bloody stupid I was."  O.M.G.  Perhaps I would finally be having a conversation about the huge white elephant that has been sitting in the room the past ten years??  And then he continued........  "That's why I've never been in another relationship".  My ears pricked,  I could feel a Hallelujah moment coming.  "Because I could never have someone telling me what I can and can't do again"................

Deflation.

I just nodded my head and carried on eating my greasy chicken and chips.  I couldn't make sense of what he said, and really didn't want to.  We bid farewell at the departure gate and I headed back to Melbourne....

So I get home and relay this entire conversation to my husband.  At 11.45pm at night.  And he makes sense of it for me.  My Dad still doesn't acknowledge that his gambling was what ruined our family.  What ruined his marriage.  And why I had nothing to do with him for such a long time.  He is still living in denial.

I say "my family is fucked".  Andrew says "Our family is great".

Perspective.

I find more out about this family of mine the older I am getting.  Sometimes it puts things in place, other times it just gets more muddled.

Do you have any hard questions you haven't been able to ask?

Who The Hell Am I?

The ever-challenging Eden has brought back her "Fresh Horses Brigade" with a rather interesting subject - "Who The Hell Are You?"  I was shattered to see that I had missed the cut off for the link up by a whole 17 minutes - and then started questioning that perhaps it was the universe telling me I either A. Have no idea who I am? B. Would spend WAY too much time trying to figure out how to put myself in words or C. Would give up?   Soooooo, in the spirit of giving myself too much to think about, I'm going to try......


"Passionate, frustrated, loving, multi-talented, mum, wife, lover, friend, introverted, extroverted, bitchy-when-I-have-to-be, honest, bark-worse-than-my-bite, impatient, no-nonsense, emotional, tired, bubbly, little, free-spirited, caring, protective, anxious, loyal"


These are all the words that came to me, un-censored.  I really LOVE who I am.  At times, I don't like myself - and that is mainly when I get caught up in other people's dramas.  I'm still working very hard at taking a step back.  


I'm proud of the person I have turned out to be!  I'm proud of the fact that I have managed to keep four kids pretty damn happy, and I am complimented on their pleasant natures and great manners.  I'm proud that I have a MORE THAN FABULOUS husband and marriage.  After an epic FAIL first time round - I wasn't sure I had the tenacity to be a wife.  Turns out I go OK.


I wondered where my youngest little man got his sensitive and anxious side from?  The last couple of years have taught me that he gained all of that - and more - from ME.  The girls at work always make me laugh, because I give the impression that I'm a hard arse......but I'm a little like Snack chocolate - A block made up of little pieces of hard chocolate, with soft centres - in a variety of flavours.  If you don't know what you're looking for, you don't know what you're going to get.  It's a pretty good comparison.  My family and closest friends know me VERY well........all others really have no idea what to expect.  I like it that way.....


---------


A couple of days ago, whilst doing my grocery shopping, I received an apology.  I burst in to tears.  The power of that one little word is HUGE.  With this apology also came a decent sized weight from my shoulders.  This community I have lived in for eight years, is soon to be a memory.  I want to leave it with good memories.  So if you're reading this - Thank You. x  

School sucks...sorta

I organised to have today off work over two weeks ago.  My astoundingly athletically talented freakishly flukey daughter, Chelsea, is running in the district cross country today!  To say I was surprised when she told me this little pearler, would be an understatement.  Let me clarify - she spent the first two seasons of basketball skipping down the court and looking off into space as if the fairies were coaxing her to their toadstool.  Obviously one season of serious basketball with her hard-ass Dad as coach has paid off - she can run!

Anyway, I digress.  So today was meant to be one of relaxing, getting my nails done, taming my eyebrows and generally doing whatever the hell I wanted, oh as well as watching Chelsea run.  This is how my day went.....

At 8.30am, I rang Lochie's high school and demanded requested a meeting with his level co-ordinator.  She obliged and said she would see me at 10am.  I then had to rearrange my appointment to meet with the renovator at the house.  Check.  I spent the hour before school meeting pouring bleach all over the tiles in the bathroom and scrubbing them with a toothbrush.  Cos that's what you do when you're annoyed with something yeh?  I inhaled said bleach and started packing.  Who knew we had so many freaking books!!  Honestly - I don't think I ever actually see anyone reading them?  Oh well, they're packed and moving with us, so they can patiently sit on the bookshelf in the hope that someone will read them again.

Meeting at school was actually with the co-ordinator AND the Vice Principal.  This shit just got serious.  To cut a really long story short - a few weeks ago Lochie told me of some issues he had with one of his teachers.  I rang the co-ordinator at the time and discussed with her my concerns.  She reassured me that it would be dealt with.  It was. A week after that I had to ring her again with a more serious concern.  After getting off the phone I was sure it too would be sorted out.  I was wrong.

So this morning I find myself in this office trying to convey my frustration.  Thankfully they were very understanding and apologised that this had not been dealt with in a more timely manner.  Then it happened - I got emotional.  FUCK IT!  Why do I always feel like crying when I'm passionate about something??  Anywho - I got all of my points across, and was thanked for being a parent who cared enough about my child's education to try and work it out.  Lochie had a meeting with the Teacher and her superiors, and it "seems" to be sorted out....along with an apology to him from said teacher.

Chelsea survived the cross country.  133rd from 160+ kids......I think that's pretty damn good. She was stuffed.  I lasted 30 minutes at cross country.....I was stuffed.  Headed straight for the shopping centre...

I forget how quiet it is when you get to have lunch by yourself.  Albeit with a million people rushing past your seat, busily going about their lives and all important shopping.  But I sucked in that serenity and took advantage of it.

The rest of the afternoon fell into place.  The nails were done, as were the eyebrows.  I even managed 20 minutes of torture via the chinese massage place.  Heaven. 

How do you spend your days off?  Is bleach and/or wax involved?

I'm Sorry Too

No....really I am

Joining Eden Riley again......and find myself really working on this blog post.  Thank you for challenging me Eden.... Here goes....

I'm sorry for not having patience.  I'm sorry for yelling and for not waiting to hear what you have to say.  I'm sorry I am not the kind of Mother who sits down and plays games and puzzles for hours.  I'm sorry I always left that stuff for Nanna to do with you.

I'm sorry for not fully understanding or "getting" your mental illness.  I'm sorry I have to check out of our relationship at times, to breath and not be overwhelmed,  because you are so overwhelmed.  I'm sorry I can't be with you in your darkest hours, the hours you spend awake at night because your mind is racing and your heart is broken.  And i'm sorry you feel so alone.

I'm sorry you "de-friended" me.  But I'm only sorry because you have missed out on so much since then.  I'm sorry that my daughter no longer has the god-mother she was given at her baptism.  But grateful that she now has an amazing woman to call Aunty.  I'm sorry I can't look at you every.single.day.  I'm still angry, frustrated and annoyed.  But I'm also grateful, amazed and in wonder of all the beautiful friendships that have taken your place.

I'm sorry I'm not a martyr.  I know how to say no.  So I do.  And I don't feel bad about it - most of the time.  I'm sorry I tell you all the things you don't want to hear.  I only speak the truth.  No bullshit.

I'm sorry I'm a hard task-master.  I don't mean to be annoying when I find that things aren't done the way I would do them.  Or when I don't understand why you wouldn't think to do the things that I think would be automatically done!  I'm trying to be less anal-retentive...

I'm sorry I ate KFC for dinner tonight.  Truly sorry.

I'm sorry I can't always shoot straight from the hip here.  I wish I was a blogger who could say anything without the fear that someone I know would read it and take offence!  But I can't.  It's not how I roll....