by Alison | Oct 19, 2011 | .
Some people repeat mantras, others buy desk pads of affirmations and books, some forward emails containing daily affirmations. I wear mine – the fast, fading bracelet that says “if I can, you can” reminds me daily that there is always someone facing challenges and possibly worse off. www.gogckids.com
I was told of someone I know whose son was shot and killed and how she took to an alcoholic induced haze for the first year whilst trying to come to terms with the loss of her only child.
On some level I envy her as I have never had the support or means to just fall apart. I’ve always had to work to cover expenses. That’s what keeps me going – not out of choice but out of necessity.
Neither of these is ideal. We all need to grieve, be angry and sad, feel let down or short changed, to try and make sense of it all, to try and move on and a balanced approach is obviously better.
In my heart I know that Aidan would be heart sore and devastated if he knew that I had collapsed in a heap with no way of moving on without him.
He never consciously inflicted pain or caused distress to me. Always treating Aleisha and I with humour, sensitivity and compassion.
So, for him I gather my strength daily. Some days I smile at his photograph and other days I might cry out “why did you leave me” but by the time I utter the words I’m on my feet and heading towards my day.
This morning I gazed out over the ocean and watched the calmness of the sea gain momentum and turn into a wave. Pulling, pushing, receding, pounding and pummeling the shore line.
That’s life I thought.
If you look upon each others lives your first impression is of calm similar to an ocean but the varying shades of colour hint at the challenges we face.
Many may ride the troughs and highs, others may encounter tidal waves, momentous seas and storms, some hurricanes and tornados.
At some point we all come ashore. The lucky ones may drift gently up the sand. Others may roll in on a wave, possibly dumped and flung about depending on the tide. Few will take a battering on the rocks and have themselves torn asunder.
Miraculously for most of us our bodies do heal and our strength returns. We tender to our wounds with alcohol, drugs, remedies, food, fast cars….pretty much anything to dull the aches and pains.
It does not matter how destructive we are as with time our physical bodies will heal. It’s how we nourish our internal self that important.
Whether we surround ourselves with good, caring and trusting friends/family or choose to meditate or pray, to eat healthily, to sit quietly and read a book or dance to wild music at some point we start to accept that the pain or loss will remain forever. It’s how we deal with it that’s important.
On the 10th I held my daughter by marriage and wished her a happy 1st anniversary and as we hugged each other I thought how cruel life can be, she without her husband and me without my son. I cannot change what’s been but I hope I can continue to touch her life and that the fingerprints I leave behind are clean, positive and bright.
When life ends love does not. It just changes form.
You cannot see their smile, prepare food together, hug them or tousle their hair but memory becomes your partner. You nurture memories, embrace them and carry them with you on your dance through life.
May you be blessed with as many happy memories as I have.
Love
Alison
Aidan Cale Needham
25/06/86 – 20/10/10
by Alison | Sep 22, 2011 | .
Heading towards a flight of stairs a week or so ago I caught sight, out of the corner of my eye, of a young woman I know so, I pointed at her in acknowledgment and changed direction.
In that instant she burst into tears and I felt completely helpless and at odds as to what to do. She stood in front of me, smiling toddler on her hip, tears streaming and told me that the doctor had just informed her that she has a huge tumour in her stomach.
I watched her as she uttered those words and comprehended that the axis on which her world rests had just shifted and tilted leaving her with the knowledge that her universe would never be the same again. New immigrants who had seen Australia as a fresh start, which offered hope and a new beginning, are now alone in a vast land about to face an unknown and frightening journey with two small children.
In that instant I realised that I’m a groupie. I belong to a group.
For whatever reason us humans take comfort in belonging. We belong to groups, clubs, religions etc. Label each other and have this group collective kinship.
My heart aches for this young woman and so we belong to the same group. Not sure if I should label it the aching heart group, the C diagnosis group, the C support group, the chemotherapy survivor group or I’ve lived with cancer group or…..
There is a public fight for breast cancer research and we rejoice with the survivors by wearing pink. But what about the rest, the unspoken for? I think that there is a cancer for almost all parts of the body but I don’t hear a lot of recognition, or fundraising, or advertising for those except perhaps the odd article.
What about us who survive cancer but never had it?
There should be a medal of honour and recognition for the battle fought and won for every cancer survivor. Now that’s a group to belong to – WOW – imagine being a groupie amongst that lot, wouldn’t that be amazing…I’m a groupie of the surviving families just as I’m sure there are many who have survived many things.
We should start a Facebook page called….I’m a groupie and survived….
– Lung cancer
– A brain tumour
– A car accident
– Alcoholism
– Retrenchment
– Abuse
– Bankruptcy
– Losing a child
– The flood
– Lost a limb
– A heart attack
– And so on and so on
Surviving any adversity is amazing and something to be proud of and to wear proudly.
One day I stood in the hospital gazing out over the city and watched the day fade into dusk and the city lights slowly flickering on. I wondered if the people out there ever give a thought or a second glance up at a hospital and wonder how those folk are.
It’s like living in an existence parallel to the real world, maybe within the hospital walls that is the real world and out there is an existing world. Not sure actually but an interesting thought.
When you walk out of the hospital you are instantly absorbed back into the hustle and bustle of that outside world. Yet, you drag the worry, the pain or hope with you as you go and the strain of tearing yourself away from the beside slowly diminishes.
All I know is that in hospital people suffer every day, special people survive in there and move on, special people die in there and move on, special little people are born in there and a myriad of other special people too countless to recall share those beds. Whoever you are or whatever sickness or illness you have suffered; there is a beauty of compassion and kindness in there and hope.
I honour all who have travelled those corridors and I’m proud to be a groupie.
Take each day as it dawns
Enjoy and love those around you
Smile and live life
Alison
by Alison | Aug 20, 2011 | .
When you are at a point in life in which you have to face an extreme emotional time, knowing that it will tear you apart yet, you still offer to share that moment. In return all you wish for is a physical reassurance that you are held, supported and loved.
Instead there is a stand-off, a distance and you’re told you are demanding.
In that instant the realisation smacks you that this is an insular journey. Few can understand, some will try, a handful will ride it with you and the rest will immerse themselves in their everyday lives.
An injured bird is looked at sadly and some will try to nurse it back to health. A child with its arm in plaster is treated with care and many will write fun things on the cast. Someone in a wheelchair or without a limb on crutches or a cancer patient who is obviously ill will be constantly treated with care and understanding and never thought of as demanding. Why is it that unless the human form looks broken or disabled there is limited or no recognition shown?
Personally, I feel as though a sledgehammer has shattered every bone in my body – that my internal organs have been rearranged and damaged so that I don’t recognise or feel them anymore yet, my form is intact. I look like me!
Demanding?
There are many forms of death. Instant – sudden – premeditated – long suffering or expected. After Laila died I attended a support group for families who had lost someone. I sat there and felt insignificant when hearing their stories of suicide, murder, drunk drivers, petrol bombs, drownings etc. Compared to mine their grief cut deep due to the horrific circumstances of many and I allowed it to trivialise mine.
Later, in counselling, I acknowledged that my grief was different. It lacked tragedy of that magnitude yet, it was mine and relevant to me.
With this in mind I started a support group for parents who had lost a child through an illness. Who had birthed a child, lived through a diagnosis, hope of survival, an illness, treatment, a few a transplant, hospital life, then having to say goodbye or prepare yourself, knowing that hope was exhausted.
This is a different death. A different journey and one not often talked about.
Now it’s my time to survive Aidan and so the circle of life continues. I do believe that parents should not have to bury their children and survive them, it is just not fair.
Over the years I have met wonderful people, talked about how it felt, how we coped and still cope, what we experienced, how grief has torn families apart, that men and woman cope differently and that in itself can be destructive.
What’s perceived as demanding is nothing more than our inability to cope. That in fact it is an extension of our hand, willing someone to care enough, to see through the mist of pain that lives around us like a moat, to just reach out, to bend, to yield to ego, and to just take it and hold onto it.
It’s a leap of faith to travel with a broken bird, but deep within, a song can be heard and it’s the precious notes of life that keep our hearts beating and the presence of saneness which helps us survive.
Love & laughter
Alison
R. Rodgers and O. Hammerstein II
When you walk through the storm
Hold your head up high
And don’t be afraid of the dark
At the end of the storm
There’s a golden sky
And the sweet silver song of the lark
Walk on, through the wind
Walk on, through the rain
Though your dreams be tossed and blown
Walk on, walk on, with hope in your heart
And you’ll never walk alone
You’ll never walk alone
Walk on, walk on, with hope in your heart
And you’ll never walk alone
You’ll never walk alone
by Alison | Jun 21, 2011 | .
I am always amazed at the frailty of the human body, so easily destroyed or broken. Yet, housed deep within is unimaginable inner strength and resolve. Enduring capabilities that cope when facing adversity with untapped power and resolve, love, joy, sadness, heartache and much, much more.
We are surrounded daily with tales of these strengths; it touches us when in print, on the news, in the community, within our family or circle of friends.
However, we live our own reality so never diminish that. It is easy to be affected by the suffering of others and to put our own pain aside. How many of us have uttered the words “there by the grace of god go I” or “touch wood”. I’m a culprit of that, not taking the time to reach into my own soul and depths to discover my pain as I know that if I touch that far down I might never recover. Such is the pain and sadness of this journey I walk.
So, I take each day as it dawns and try and find brightness in every day to give me strength and a reason to keep walking. Aidan’s tenacity was a shining example of this.
I feel as though I am crumbling on the inside whilst to the world I’m the same maybe just looking a bit worse for wear ! As I take another step I see my own footprints ahead of me and the knowledge that I am walking in my own set is an awful and foreboding feeling as this time I do not have that wonderful child next to me holding my hand, making me smile and feel that it is all worthwhile.
Aidan’s birthday is fast approaching and I can feel my body ache and the tears hover waiting for permission to expose themselves. How I miss my dear boy, every minute of every day.
Then, I take a breath and think of my dear friend just out of hospital fighting her own demons, another beautiful girl surviving cancer, my inspiring daughter in law coping with the loss of her soul-mate, husband and friend, a wonderful friend coming to terms with the betrayal of her marriage and the reminder is constantly with me that if you scratch the surface of all our lives, beneath lies some catastrophe, sadness, hurt, illness, pain and joy.
For each of us the road we travel is fraught with unbelievable highs and lows.
It’s how we get through them that is important and how to find the balance within to keep us going. I believe that without joy and laughter we would never make it. Laughter makes us draw breath which adds lightness to our being. The other emotions are dark and dreary and we drag them around like an anchor, weighing us down. Aidan laughed from deep within his belly. His body would shake and that would make me laugh and what a good feeling that was, sharing a moment, lightening our load just for that instant.
All around us are stories of sadness, soldiers dying, car accidents, drunken behaviour, family murders, an idiot with a gun, sudden death, ill health and just growing old.
Life is so fragile. Aidan showed all who travelled with him that it is not difficult to be nice, to be polite and friendly, to say thank you and I’m sorry, to be fair and loyal. I propose that we remember to rejoice in each other. Smile at strangers, work colleagues, family and friends. Be kind to each other. Think twice before you say ugly words to the people you love. Don’t hurt others intentionally. Choose your friends well. Read daily uplifting affirmations. Light candles. Be grateful for the people in your life. Take care of each other. Sing wildly. Pray or meditate whatever rocks your boat. Find your sense of purpose, try and be happy, take care of you and don’t feel alone.
I thank the universe daily for my family and friends without whom I would not have survived this far nor would I be able to continue further. Trying to make sense of it all can wait another day.
On Saturday, 25th June, we will celebrate the Pirate Chef’s 25th birthday and will send Aidan all our love as we do every day. I never thought for a moment that he would not be alive and with me on this journey but he will always be beside me.
Please join me in wishing my beautiful boy and Aleisha’s husband a Happy 25th Birthday ….Hip hip Hooray… love ya A
May the heavens shine forth with twinkling stars in the night sky and celebrate the kindness of his soul, as we light candles and bless him.
Love & laughter
Alison
20/10/10
The Road’s End
When I come to the end of the road and the sun has set for me,
I want no rites in a gloom filled room, why cry for a soul set free?
Miss me a little, but not too long and not with your head bowed low.
Remember the love that we once had, miss me but let me go.
For this journey that we must all take, and each must go alone.
It’s all part of the master’s plan, a step on the road to home.
When you’re lonely and sick of heart, go to the friends you know.
And bury your sorrow in doing good deeds; miss me but let me go.
