Thank You.
For coming here this year and reading, offering your words of support and comfort and love. I feel really loved by so many of you and I don't care how corny that sounds but I send love back to you in return.
It's been a shit of a year. Hospital twice and then Cam .. I'm barely hanging on. Sometimes I can't go outside. Sometimes my boys force me to go outside. I cry a lot. Think a lot. Hurt a lot.
But that's life, really, isn't it? It's never what you expect. It's hardly ever what you want. And we make do with events, and loss, and situations.
We're keeping it so chill and easy for christmas this year that I don't even know what the menu is yet.
It's just me, Dave, and the two boys at the beach house. Then a few days afterwards hopefully his other kids will join us and we'll all squeeze in and talk and watch horrors and get burnt at the beach and I'll watch Dave be the dad of five kids.
I'll be having some sleepovers at my mums house because she lives close by. We're going to go through a lot of old photos together and laugh and keen and shake our heads and talk about how if we were only better people, Cam would have stayed. Which is bullshit but that's how it feels.
I cannot articulate how much I miss my brother. It runs too deep and there are no words. I want to grieve him forever. So I will.
I hope you can find some solace this years end. Some cooking, knitting, baking, writing, dancing, painting .... us humans are made to create things. Do it. Today I'm going to pick a garish colour and paint the crumbling outdoor patio concrete while Dave is away.
Lastly, I need to thank the anonymous person who sent me this inscribed silver bangle made by Belle Fever:
"I have a brother. A brother like no other. He got soul soul soul ... sweet soul."
Lyrics from a U2 song. Completely lost it when I opened it ... thank you, beautiful person. Thank all of you for coming to this strange thing called a "blog" ... to read my heart and open a bit of your hearts up in return.
As my beautiful friend wrote on her christmas cards this year: "Love What Is."
XXX
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Write to be understood, speak to be heard. - Lawrence Powell