Friday, 16 January 2009


Well, it seems the whole plan to blog daily has gone out the window. I can't blog daily when I feel like running away from home.

It's been a big week. Biiiiiiig. School holidays, swimming lessons, baby crawling at breakneck speed, dealing with the whole cancer/chemo/near-death/newborn aftershock situation. I swear to God, I am SICK of myself harping on about it.

Little things have profoundly affected me lately ... a friend of ours just got back from the U.K., and came over to have a cup of tea. Sitting there together, Dave was chatting about how he got pulled over by a copper for talking on his mobile while driving, but the copper let him off because it was his birthday. "Where was I driving too .... oh that's right, I was visiting Edes in hospital when she had the bub ...." (Almost nine years together and he still calls me Edes. I hate being called Edes. HATE. But he does it anyway).

And the conversation carried on .... but I was silently stricken with heavy lead. I wanted to scream at everybody in the room that no, he was not driving to visit me in the hospital. He NEVER visited me in hospital because he was down in his OWN hospital ARRRGHHHHH.


If it wasn't so fucking painful it would be fascinating. It's like, I'm a soldier in the war and the war's over and you come home but all the trauma has only just begun. I'm like Hawkeye in M.A.S.H. when he flips his lid. Actually, I am like Hawkeye in M.A.S.H. - I always have to sniff my food before eating it. Always.

Yesterday I finally went through the government newborn/parent pack they give you in hospital ... mixed in it was all of Daves chemo literature, and the Non-Hodgkins survivor stories I googled and printed out. I flung it all in the bin, so deeply hurt and pissed off that Roccos birth got so tainted. I might just give myself a bit of time to feel it all, let it out, and let it the fuck go already.

You know how, when something really big happens - like a death or something, then your whole life stops? And changes? Well, I noticed tonight that I don't watch television anymore. Not one skerrick, since Daves diagnosis. The news, sometimes. Everything has seemed too serious to waste time watching the tube. I miss TV, for she was my first true love.

Max has had intensive swimming lessons every day this week, which has been great to just get up and go somewhere with the guys, get out in the day. I was watching him swim, and remembered the school term last year when he had his lessons late on Monday nights. Dave was too sick to take him, so I would put the 2-month old baby in the car - sore scar, sick husband, middle of winter, and drive Max to his lesson. I would stand there with my iPod on, so no-one would come up to me and ask about Dave. (They did anyway. Apparently curiosity did NOT kill the cat - I almost did, though HA). I don't know how I did that. I think I'm paying the price for it now.

When Max was born I was utterly Besotted. Amazed. Serene. Empowered. Enraptured. I distinctly remember him going through his babyhood, and each time he got a little older, reached a new milestone, I would think "Oh, this is my favourite age." Four months, nine months, one year ... it just kept getting better.

With my beautiful, tough guyo babyman who I was petrified of fucking up forever because of what happened .... I can honstly say, that this is my favourite age of his. On Monday he will be EIGHT MONTHS old. The older he gets, the more a relief it is. He has a crawling style of a man parched in the desert, digging his hands in the rug and pulling his lifeless legs behind him. HILARIOUS. (I remember Maxs crawling style ... he was hunched over like Cornelius from Planet of the Apes.)

Look at him, eating sand. He is SO TOUGH. He had to be. He does push ups! And freaking SIT UPS, from a lying down position! Like Regan from the Exorcist, he has this superhuman strength that freaks me out. I can hear strangers draw in their breath when they peer into his pram on the street, amazed at his intense eyes.


It's time, I think, to gently tell myself that the war is over. Lay down my arms of such rage and bitterness, and just live again. Today, during the big marathon marital pow-wow where we went over the same sticky issues for hours and hours. It was crunch time ... for better or worse indeed.

So, I have decided to stay, forgive him AND myself, love all the boys (my GOD this house is packed with testosterone Send. Help.) .... get some writing work cracking, start back at the gym, and just be nice. Nicer.

Life crumbles around me sometimes and I simply can't pretend. Sometimes I wish I could! I often tell people going through a hard time that there is strength in falling apart.

It just feels so darn messy when it's happening to YOU.



  1. Sending love your way (I can do that because I'm a Jewish grandmother). Hang in there! We care.

  2. E!

    It is I, The Palest Of Mothers. I have to go pick up my clutter ... DS1 is having a date. So I'm rushing ... So much to say ... I especially loved 'the lay down my arms' part.

    Puffy hearts and fist bumps.


    D was here.

  3. Eden,

    You can see it in Rocco -- his tough guy spirit -- what a raucous adventure he's going to take you on --and oh is he going to love his mum -- I can see him, towering over you someday, sweeping you up in his arms...while you protest loudly.

    This has been a crazy f*%%ing year my friend. I so adore you. I wish I had the words -- but words don't do in times like this when you just wish you could 'be.'

    And, no surprise, Hawkeye is my favorite -- and I"m sort of a B.J. Hunnicut there you go. It explains everything.

    So much love to you my friend,

    So much.



  4. i don't know how you can let it go by just telling yourself to. You will. It just may not be when you want it to (ie: now)

    you think of your tv as a she? I always thought of it as a he.

  5. Rocco is doing the low (Army) crawl? That's what my husband (the army boy) calls it, because it looks like they're crawling under barbed wire! It's so fun to watch.

    As a total emotional suppressor, I know that you have to sometimes fall apart or issues never get settled. Because just talking things out without an outburst is for those touchy-feely people. I'm glad to hear the war is over (although there will probably be a few skirmishes between the soldiers who have not yet been informed). Good luck.

  6. Rocco is tough because his momma is a fighter (said in a loving way). This baby is meant to grow up to do great things.

    I hear you on the forgiving and getting on with things but if you are like me forgiving and forgetting are two entirely different things.

  7. YES, you are like Hawkeye! Bulldoze through the crisis, fall apart when you stop to catch your breathe.

    Rocco is so scrumptious, I want a bite!!

    Did you have your drs appt yet?


  8. You really are a Viet Nam vet. No bones about it, you have been through the war.

    Love that picture of Rocco, what a tough guy he is. He's all "Yeah this is sand! Wanna make something of it? I'll eat it if I want to!" Just like his mama.

    There's more I want to say but my head is falling apart again and I just can't. I'm thinking of you. Keep hanging on.


  9. Hang in there. It may take a while for you to be able to let it all go and that is ok. You have been through so much the last year. Let yourself mourn what was lost. You're in my thoughts. Hugs to you.

  10. We are identical geniuses linked by something rather magical through space and time, Eden. I got interrupted reading this post earlier today, but before I stopped, I thought that you needed to extend a lot of forgiveness to yourself. And when I come back and finish reading, what do I find but that you have already had this exact same thought and expressed it so beautifully! You are so right that there is strength in falling apart, and also that it is a bitch to do even though it's easy to say to somebody else. But I know in my bones that you are strong enough to do it, to fall apart, to open your heart to the pain of this past year, and to begin the messy, imperfect work of healing.

    There's a quote on Luna's blog from Anne Lamott that runs through my head almost every day: "Forgiveness is letting go of all hope of a better past." And also this one, from Leonard Cohen: "There is a crack, a crack in everything/ That's how the light gets in."

    Wishing you only peace, dear friend.

  11. IT's true - sometimes after major life events you need to get as low as you can in order to rise fresh again. it SUCKS when you are down the bottom of that hole. You have the inner strength and determination though Eden to make it through. Whichever life path you take you will walk it with dignity and grace (and lots of swearing naturally). Love you, Celeste xo

  12. One step in front of the other is a hard bloody slog isn't it my friend.

    Angry is a state I often live in - and I've not had the issues you've had to deal with.

    Remember my dear friend 'through dangers untold and hardships un-numbered.

    Hugs and Love

  13. Aww love. Thanks again as always for the raw honesty and blunt truths. Thanks for your soul searching and hard ass work that shows such a wonderful example to me.

    I sure hope it gets easier for you and the forgiving happens smoothly for you, especially the forgiving yourself.

  14. Morning Eden sweetie. Beautiful post as always, and how gorgeous is your boy?

    I was at a wedding yesterday. It was beautiful, in an old wooden church with stained glass. The bride and groom both cried with happiness. So did I.

    And then the celebrant spoke...and it made such sense to me. I wish I had a recording of it so I would get the wording right.

    Sometimes love is romantic and easy. Sometimes it's secure and comfortable. And sometimes you have to work hard to love that person. You have to consciously choose to love them, to honour the commitment.

    I wonder too if we have to consciously choose to love ourselves. We know more about ourself than anyone - and it's so easy to be down, beating yourself up.

    Lots of forgiveness ahead for you. Both inward and outward. Love you.

    Did you see the doctor yet?

  15. Sand!
    Do monkeys eat sand in real life?
    He's so frickin cute these days.
    Give the boys a squeeze for me!

  16. His eyes are so gorgeous! He looks wise...

    I remember when my daddy died, I had to go to the grocery store because mama wanted paper plates (???) and when the cashier started talking, I just blankly said "my daddy died this morning." She was taken aback.....things like that do change you!

    I just know you're going to be least as fine as we get in this world! :)


Write to be understood, speak to be heard. - Lawrence Powell

Related Posts Plugin for WordPress, Blogger...