Hello I have just gone through five long dark nights of the souls away from my family which means I've made emergency icing at midnight when needed.
At first I missed my guys, then I became used to them not being around. Then I got lonely. Then I got LOUD and felt free because when it's 3am and you have severe sleep issues you can just blast music in the middle of the night.
I arranged my poems for this weekends poetry slam. It's funny how at first I so badly wanted to win. Then I just wanted to make it to the grand final for my family to see me on stage at the Opera House in my cowboy boots with my words - Dave and I have bought tickets for everyone even Rocco without knowing if I'll get through yet. My family have seen me at my worst and if there's anything I can teach ALL my kids is that we can get through hard things. (I think I want to show myself that too.) And you! And Cam, even though he's not here anymore it's a bit too late but maybe I can still keep teaching him stuff as much as he's still teaching me stuff. I want to speak the words in his heart he couldn't get them out himself because he didn't stick around to learn the language.
Oh!
It's weird, to admit you want something so bad. Before I did IVF for Rocco I didn't tell a soul, I didn't want anyone to know how badly I wanted another baby. I used to be so private? WHAT HAPPENED?
So anyway my family were away so I could finish my poems and it was something like 4am in the morning as I put the LAST word in place on my third one and I'd done it. They were all arranged just so. So I DID get through. It felt like I'd already won. Now even the chance to talk at the finals this Friday is a huge honour. Whatever happens will happen, whichever way the wind blows on the night.
(But I still want to win.)
When Cam lived with me he started up his own t-shirt company - man I wish I could show you some they were so cool! Anyway so for some dumb reason, every time I was at the shops (in Penrith) I KEPT BUYING HIM A NEW T-SHIRT and he's all, really Eed? And I said I KNOW - I just keep seeing tees that would suit you even though you make your own I'm so sorry?!
And he liked them, and he was fussy! And he wore them, laughing, agreeing that yes, they were actually pretty cool.
I bought him this Apache one and he's looking in the mirror like, fine, I like it. (My goodness I bought him so many tees it was ridiculous. I would buy him anything in the whole world, to make him stay, change, learn, grow.)
Enter angry gardening.
The green bracelet I'm wearing, I bought two - one for me and one for Megan. I call them our "Band of Brothers" bracelets and as I gravely handed hers over, I said "Megan, this cost me TWO DOLLARS. DO NOT LOSE IT." I think of her and her families loss, when I look at it. All they went through, are still going through. We are never alone, even if we might feel it. You don't have to be alone.
Ever gardened so hard your manicure comes off and your fingers bleed, even though you were wearing gloves? Ever been so SO ANGRY at the weeds that were in the veggie patch slowly strangling all the veggies to death right under your nose, you grab at the earth and it's 8pm and you're crying, ripping out ALL of the twisted, knotted root system growing and festering so hard underneath it was all hidden and caused a man to take his life away because the poison roots damaged everything they stole everything good?
(UGH I try and write a light post and this is what happens. I can't help it. I'm dealing as big as I can.)
Anyway so the the morning comes like it always does (NOT always a mourning) and you walk out and feel satisfied and I hope the lettuce takes, I really do.
My friend Beth has created a thing called #fucktober which makes me overwhelmed, grateful, embarrassed. So many people are going through hard things not just me. She wrote a post asking for people to send me something nice or thoughtful or uplifting in the moment of October because I just want to cancel October off the calendar forever but I can't. First anniversaries of the loss of our loved people are so hard, aren't they? Especially the build-up to a suicide. I've already received things in the mail from people that have just made me sit down and weep from the kindness. The gifts, the handwritten notes. They keep coming - to Daves PO Box addressed with hashtag #fucktober so Dave had to explain to his awesome office assistant Elisa about certain weird mail that may be coming through and it's for me and she didn't bat an eyelid. (OMG LOOK AT THE LAST MEMBER OF DAVES TEAM ON HIS WEBSITE!)
I told BabyMac the other day that she should change her profile pic to this because it's so her, cheeky and in her kitchen with her colourful things behind. SO SHE DID. Straight away. She has a huge heart. Thank you so much to the people who have posted me things to brighten my day and thank you, Beth. If only everybody could have parcels in their letterbox, every day! How cool would that be, little pick-me-ups when we need them the most. Thank you, so much.
I've printed off dozens of copies of my favourite photo of Cam and me together as thank you cards. At first I thought. "Don't do that. Who wants a pic of a dead guy?" And then I thought, it's a beautiful photo. And the thank you is from me AND Cam, I think, hope he can see what's going on and he's grateful to you. Two people have told me in the past week "Eden, it's hard for Cam to see you so distressed."
I love when people just tell me shit like that. Of course my first thought was ugly "Oh, it's hard for CAM? Orly tell me more about THINGS BEING HARD." Then I thought I'm glad he knows how distressed I am because oh god I am. And so he might know just how much I did not want him to go. How much I love him. I was driving yesterday eating hot spicy peas like a motherfucker without a care in the world but I couldn't swallow them because I realised again, for the 24679th time ... my BROTHER IS DEAD? How can I eat? I almost had to pull the car over. It took me while, to swallow those peas down. I feel bad for getting on with my life but I have to. He wants me to. When he was born I swore I'd protect him and I used to sit outside his bedroom door when he was a baby because we lived in a fancy house and I thought he'd get kidnapped for ransom and the thought of him being kidnapped, taken away from me, was terrifying.
But Cam was not "mine" to be taken away from. Nobody belongs to anybody, not really.
My family eventually came back and the plate scrubber I bought while they were away?
MY BOYS ARE FIGHTING OVER WHO GETS TO DO THE DISHES WHY DID I NOT THINK OF THIS BEFORE. It's fancy because you put the detergent IN the thingo. Best four bucks spent EVER.
Rocco is back at school. I got him there late this morning, seriously. First day back.
Max is banned from everything until he has finished his book report he's had all holidays to do. He goes back tomorrow.
Sometimes I RUN into his room and scare the crap out of him just so he knows I am ALWAYS onto him.
At first I missed my guys, then I became used to them not being around. Then I got lonely. Then I got LOUD and felt free because when it's 3am and you have severe sleep issues you can just blast music in the middle of the night.
I arranged my poems for this weekends poetry slam. It's funny how at first I so badly wanted to win. Then I just wanted to make it to the grand final for my family to see me on stage at the Opera House in my cowboy boots with my words - Dave and I have bought tickets for everyone even Rocco without knowing if I'll get through yet. My family have seen me at my worst and if there's anything I can teach ALL my kids is that we can get through hard things. (I think I want to show myself that too.) And you! And Cam, even though he's not here anymore it's a bit too late but maybe I can still keep teaching him stuff as much as he's still teaching me stuff. I want to speak the words in his heart he couldn't get them out himself because he didn't stick around to learn the language.
Oh!
It's weird, to admit you want something so bad. Before I did IVF for Rocco I didn't tell a soul, I didn't want anyone to know how badly I wanted another baby. I used to be so private? WHAT HAPPENED?
So anyway my family were away so I could finish my poems and it was something like 4am in the morning as I put the LAST word in place on my third one and I'd done it. They were all arranged just so. So I DID get through. It felt like I'd already won. Now even the chance to talk at the finals this Friday is a huge honour. Whatever happens will happen, whichever way the wind blows on the night.
(But I still want to win.)
When Cam lived with me he started up his own t-shirt company - man I wish I could show you some they were so cool! Anyway so for some dumb reason, every time I was at the shops (in Penrith) I KEPT BUYING HIM A NEW T-SHIRT and he's all, really Eed? And I said I KNOW - I just keep seeing tees that would suit you even though you make your own I'm so sorry?!
And he liked them, and he was fussy! And he wore them, laughing, agreeing that yes, they were actually pretty cool.
I bought him this Apache one and he's looking in the mirror like, fine, I like it. (My goodness I bought him so many tees it was ridiculous. I would buy him anything in the whole world, to make him stay, change, learn, grow.)
Enter angry gardening.
The green bracelet I'm wearing, I bought two - one for me and one for Megan. I call them our "Band of Brothers" bracelets and as I gravely handed hers over, I said "Megan, this cost me TWO DOLLARS. DO NOT LOSE IT." I think of her and her families loss, when I look at it. All they went through, are still going through. We are never alone, even if we might feel it. You don't have to be alone.
Ever gardened so hard your manicure comes off and your fingers bleed, even though you were wearing gloves? Ever been so SO ANGRY at the weeds that were in the veggie patch slowly strangling all the veggies to death right under your nose, you grab at the earth and it's 8pm and you're crying, ripping out ALL of the twisted, knotted root system growing and festering so hard underneath it was all hidden and caused a man to take his life away because the poison roots damaged everything they stole everything good?
(UGH I try and write a light post and this is what happens. I can't help it. I'm dealing as big as I can.)
Anyway so the the morning comes like it always does (NOT always a mourning) and you walk out and feel satisfied and I hope the lettuce takes, I really do.
My friend Beth has created a thing called #fucktober which makes me overwhelmed, grateful, embarrassed. So many people are going through hard things not just me. She wrote a post asking for people to send me something nice or thoughtful or uplifting in the moment of October because I just want to cancel October off the calendar forever but I can't. First anniversaries of the loss of our loved people are so hard, aren't they? Especially the build-up to a suicide. I've already received things in the mail from people that have just made me sit down and weep from the kindness. The gifts, the handwritten notes. They keep coming - to Daves PO Box addressed with hashtag #fucktober so Dave had to explain to his awesome office assistant Elisa about certain weird mail that may be coming through and it's for me and she didn't bat an eyelid. (OMG LOOK AT THE LAST MEMBER OF DAVES TEAM ON HIS WEBSITE!)
I told BabyMac the other day that she should change her profile pic to this because it's so her, cheeky and in her kitchen with her colourful things behind. SO SHE DID. Straight away. She has a huge heart. Thank you so much to the people who have posted me things to brighten my day and thank you, Beth. If only everybody could have parcels in their letterbox, every day! How cool would that be, little pick-me-ups when we need them the most. Thank you, so much.
I've printed off dozens of copies of my favourite photo of Cam and me together as thank you cards. At first I thought. "Don't do that. Who wants a pic of a dead guy?" And then I thought, it's a beautiful photo. And the thank you is from me AND Cam, I think, hope he can see what's going on and he's grateful to you. Two people have told me in the past week "Eden, it's hard for Cam to see you so distressed."
I love when people just tell me shit like that. Of course my first thought was ugly "Oh, it's hard for CAM? Orly tell me more about THINGS BEING HARD." Then I thought I'm glad he knows how distressed I am because oh god I am. And so he might know just how much I did not want him to go. How much I love him. I was driving yesterday eating hot spicy peas like a motherfucker without a care in the world but I couldn't swallow them because I realised again, for the 24679th time ... my BROTHER IS DEAD? How can I eat? I almost had to pull the car over. It took me while, to swallow those peas down. I feel bad for getting on with my life but I have to. He wants me to. When he was born I swore I'd protect him and I used to sit outside his bedroom door when he was a baby because we lived in a fancy house and I thought he'd get kidnapped for ransom and the thought of him being kidnapped, taken away from me, was terrifying.
But Cam was not "mine" to be taken away from. Nobody belongs to anybody, not really.
My family eventually came back and the plate scrubber I bought while they were away?
MY BOYS ARE FIGHTING OVER WHO GETS TO DO THE DISHES WHY DID I NOT THINK OF THIS BEFORE. It's fancy because you put the detergent IN the thingo. Best four bucks spent EVER.
Rocco is back at school. I got him there late this morning, seriously. First day back.
Max is banned from everything until he has finished his book report he's had all holidays to do. He goes back tomorrow.
I used to do the same to Tim. Something tells me when I do it to Rocco - well, it's just going to be interesting. So I run in, scare the hell out of Max and looked at the computer screen of the GUNS HE WAS GOOGLING.
"DUDE!"
"No - mum - it's for my report! This book is one in a series called the Henderson's Boys and it's about these kids who become spies and the book is set in the war so I want a gun on either side of the title, see?"
I saw. Impressive.
"Fine. I'll let you get away with it this time ALWAYS WATCHING WAZOWSKI." And backed out of the room.
He leaves things to the last minute, just like me. I feel his frustration because it's a really nice day. I told him I'd help him - "It's English! My thing! Not like maths or science. Help me, help you!"
He asks what a conjunction is. I google. "In grammar, a conjunction is a part of speech that connects words, sentences, phrases or clauses. A discourse connective is a conjunction joining sentences. In general, a conjunction is an invariable grammatical particle, and it may or may not stand between the items it conjoins."
I have no idea what that means.
"Um, ok dude so good luck. Let me know if you want me to make you smoothie? I love you."
PS I accidentally wrote "moment" of October instead of "month" of October. I like it. I'm keeping it in. FUCK OCTOBER. It's just a moment. Soon it'll be December again and everyone will have lame tinsel up. #fucktober
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Write to be understood, speak to be heard. - Lawrence Powell