Friday, 23 July 2010
One week ago Dave and I went to court. For seven hours straight there were legal murmerings and whispers and angry faces and shouting. Mediation, in and out of the rooms, heated discussions. Until finally, after over a YEAR of legal wrangling and bullshit and vendettas and vengeance ..... it is now resolved. I haven't seen Dave smile so broadly in - ohhh, two years. He's smiling with his whole face and whole heart. This particular issue burnt him like a fire .... affected him on an emotional level much more than the cancer ever did. I have been doing 98% of the parenting for so long now. I get shocked when I look in the mirror and don't see the hundred year old crone I feel I am.
So - what was rightfully Dave's is now his again .... ours, even. People are such odd creatures, especially when it comes to money.
This has all brought forth a flurry of paperwork and activity and stress and angst, which won't end for another week. We leave for America in a little over a week.
I sat in the courthouse, nodding wisely with the legal team at appropriate times, pretending I had an inkling. I did have an inkling, but it was boring. My brain short circuits with facts and figures. Give me words and metaphors, THAT is where I live. I soon realised where Rocco's lost pinocchio toy from his Happy Meal went - in my handbag. At certain times my bag could be heard giving off a little high pitched squeal, which I ignored. Once we were all standing there together and I bumped the wall with it. "I'M A REAL BOOOOOY."
I stood there pretending I hadn't heard a thing. The lawyer stopped talking, I saw Dave wince out of the corner of my innocent eye.
Every day is a full one. Many moons ago, when I was only a few months clean, my sponsor had a party at her house. I remember going to the loo, looking through the stacks of books piled up near the sink. One was called "Daily Meditations for Women Who Do Too Much." I thought it was pretty stupid - who would do too much? If anything I needed a book for women who do too little.
I need the "Too Much" book right now. I have never been so busy and swirling. I made a will for the first time ever .... it feels like I signed my own death warrant, with all the talk of life support getting turned off and guardianship of the boys. Sitting in the solicitors office next Dave I said: "Great. Bet we'll die violently in a plane fireball."
He winced again. When we drove home there was a truck in front of us and I imagined it suddenly flying open and hundreds of dead bodies spill out all over the road, bones crunching under our tyres.
I look at the boys and wonder how they would live their lives if we died. It's Dave's birthday next week, I'm giving him a helicopter trip around NYC. What if his chopper crashes and he dies and it's all my fault because I dragged him across the world all in the name of blogging?
The only reason we are going to New York is because of Dave's penis. If he hadn't had a vasectomy, I wouldn't have done IVF, wouldn't have started a blog. I always thought I would shut my blog down after I had the baby .... my monkey. All bets were off when Dave got cancer. I blogged often and hard. I remember realising for the first time .... that you didn't have to have a "topic" to blog about. You could write anything, anything at all. Amazing. Mel wrote a wonderful post yesterday about blogging, why you shouldn't think it's not worth it.
Dave and I are mainly going on a trip together because he almost died. We were made painfully aware how life can turn on a dime, at any stage. It's like we're just saying "Fuck it!" .... and just going. Everybody around us is excited and amazed, some say they wish they could do that too. I say, you can. You can do whatever the hell you want.
My imagination is firing on all cylinders. So is my stress and anxiety and overwhelming-ness. I need more Rescue Remedy. My sister Linda is a Reiki Practitioner and Australian Bushflower Remedy Queen, based down in Sydney. I need to order a vat, STAT.
It's so cold here - the dead of winter. Seems obscene that I have to pack summer clothes - and I'm not really a clothesey person. Probably jeans, some tees ..... a denim skirt if I can get away with it. I have heard a vicious rumour that Americans don't wear thongs? (Which they call flip-flops ... they think thongs are G-strings, LOLZA)
Ok I have MAN FEET ..... no dainty sweet sandals for me. I own five pairs of Havaianas, all in different colours, including hot pink, black and gold, and a purple Grimace colour. Am I allowed to wear them, or will I look like a tourist freak?
Um, I am a Finalist in BlogHer's Voices of the Year.
I feel incredibly honoured to be a part of this ... "Immediately after the community keynote, at a reception and Gala, the kirtsy team and BlogHer are working to transform the words and images of our 90 keynoters into healing action for the Gulf Coast. Inspiring works will live on after the conference, raising money to help fund the long-term recovery efforts the Gulf will need."
Dave will be staying away from most of the BlogHer mayhem, but he'll come to this with me. It will be nice to show him that I am a part of something bigger and better than just slow love-making with my slowcooker. Dave is the builder and doer and amazing one in our relationship. He is the Captain, the Ship, and the Sea all in one. I'm the undercurrents. The worrier warrior, the freaker-outer, the crazy one who takes Pinocchio to court.
Ok nobody is allowed to write any beautiful comments. I haven't been online much and feel wracked with guilt about it. Instead, please share one cool thing you are doing this weekend to remind yourself that you are really alive.
Because you are the boss of your own life!