by Alison | Aug 12, 2012 | .
I woke in the night and pondered the words ‘to wail’. My mother never wailed when my father died, she went to bed and re-appeared a few months later.
I weep or seep and have only one recollection of wailing. The receded wave of sadness, disbelief, rejection and heartache welled and my tsunami hurtled outward. I had to just let it wash over me and carry me emotionally and verbally from the depths of my soul to the universe beyond.
Why is it that for so many of us we are not taught to wail? Encouraged to show grief and let it out. Not to sob, wipe the tear away or snivel into a tissue.
Looking back I do wonder why I allow comforting others, making decisions and arrangements to get in front of sitting in my grief. Keeping busy is an easy deflection from pain.
It is not easy to keep reminding oneself that this is ‘my pain, my realty, my life’ and not look around at the suffering being experienced by others and feel that mine is not as significant, especially those that know how to wail. Grief is etched into every pore of their face, into the air that surrounds them and is carried on the wind for us to hear and experience.
Oh to be able to bear ones soul so completely.
So, as I am not able to do that… yet, I wrap myself in an emotional blanket and button it down, tight. Keeping the mind constantly busy and occupied so that there is no time to dwell, to reflect upon or to feel sad. These are fleeting moments in my day; a tear wiped away, a memory exposed, filtered, felt and put away. There is no time for solitude or reflection as the pain is too severe and the dark hole too deep to contemplate.
Have you ever experienced that feeling – that if I get in too deep I might never be able to return, to climb out. The flip side is that possibly there is always the ability to get out but the question asked is, are we strong enough to chance that.
Maybe one day I’ll find the space and courage to sit in an empty space and wail and know I’ll find my way back.
Onwards and upwards
Love Alison
“When you are sorrowful look again in your heart,
and you shall see that in truth you are weeping
for that which has been your delight.”
-Kahil Gibran
by Alison | Dec 11, 2011 | .
I miss Christmas.
I grew up in a family that celebrated events with much enthusiasm. Easter was always special, birthdays an occasion, the 5th November we always had a great big bonfire with a Guy Fawkes and Christmas was traditional with an early start.
My father always took us to the morning service, then home for a nice simple breakfast, after which we waited for the grandparents and then opened the welcoming gifts under the tree. The whole family would sit down together to a lunchtime feast that my mother had been preparing, with much love, since the day before. Roast turkey with the appropriate veg and my father’s own recipe of brandy butter for the lit Christmas pudding stuffed with coins. The evening was open house for all friends and family to pop in for a drink, fellowship and to consume any leftovers from lunch.
Then life changed. Parents died, brothers moved away, life took its journey and Christmas was never quite the same again.
My appreciation of Christmas is based on the values that I saw in my parents, the caring, welcoming attitude towards friends, family and the needy. It was the laughter and the warmth that overflowed on Christmas night amongst the gathering that will always remain with me.
Through my life I have tried to preserve that spirit of Christmas and endeavoured to instil some of it in my children, as best I could, as well as to celebrate with whatever family was around who wished to be a part of it. I love making the effort, going that extra mile to do something extra special after all it is not just another day, its Christmas! A time of giving and receiving, of sitting together and sharing a meal, breaking bread and feeling the contentment and love and being a part of family.
Last week I spoke to Aidan’s granny and she spoke of her loneliness which I fully understand. The festive season seems to have an adverse effect on some of us. Instead of being caught up in the gaiety and sense of family and friendship many feel incredibly isolated and alone. I have spent parts of Christmas alone pondering the ache in my heart. Broken families mean children alternate Christmas, migrant families are separated by continents, some folk are ill, some alone, many are old and in a place they do not want to be in, some estranged, a family member might have died, a sudden retrenchment or perhaps some just don’t care or have the same awareness of kinship.
Spare a thought this Christmas to those around you. I was reading the paper the other day and was struck by the complete lack of care or moral value enveloping us. When did society become so unconcerned? Not to be political but I certainly would not have a woman in my life who treated the person she worked for with such disdain and contempt as Julia yet, she rules this country and we all listen to and read about her. Instead of being accepting the voters should have kicked her butt and ousted her for her incredibly bad, unacceptable conduct. How does a country condone such behaviour? Do we do the same in our own homes, in our workplace, behave so callously to colleagues or strangers, with our friends, is this how we want our children to behave? I suppose my question is where is our care factor…?
One of my hopes is that society starts to show more compassion to those around them and hopefully start at home, then the aged, the sick, the needy and into the broader community. Spare someone that all-encompassing loneliness at Christmas. Give a stranger a gift, visit the wishing tree in Kmart, purchase something from organisations that use the money to help sick children or cancer sufferers or orphans etc. Do a good deed.
For those who haven’t seen the movie there is a belief in ‘pay it forward’ or ‘give and you shall receive’. It’s all about being generous and giving without the expectation of ever receiving anything in return. Just knowing you touched someone else’s life in a positive manner and brought a smile or a lift to a heart is worth it, and that’s the gift. The world is so full of suffering its heart-breaking.
In all of our lives there will be someone who will not enjoy or have a sense of Christmas, spare a thought, reach out and share the love and kindness that resides in all of us. Bring joy and peace to our earth.
May you have a blessed Christmas and a joyous new year.
Travel safe.
X Alison
http://www.ocf.com.au/
http://www.youngcare.com.au
http://mummyswish.org.au
http://www.thepyjamafoundation.com
http://www.workingwonders.com.au/
http://salvos.org.au/christmas/how-to-help/food-and-gifts.php
Kmart Wishing tree Appeal
http://www.lionsclubs.org.au/cakes/info.php
http://www.beyondblue.org.au/index.aspx?
http://au.movember.com/get-involved/
http://www.oxfam.org.au/
http://www.kidswithcancer.org.au/
Aidan Cale Needham
25/06/86 – 20/10/10
by Alison | Nov 27, 2011 | .
Last week I sat at Maris’s final year service at school and was reminded how important ceremony is in one’s life. I watched as Father Andrew lit candles from a single blessed flame and passed them on to the line of young, soon to be adults. I’m sure few saw the significance of the passing of the flame but hopefully as they grow the will take cognisance and become more aware of the interconnectedness of us all.
Aleisha, Jackie and I ventured forth to Cape Town and celebrated Aidan at a wake we held for him on the 20th Oct. It’s difficult to put time to death as I cannot comprehend that Aidan is never coming back as he feels close and a part of me but a year has passed and so through ceremony we honour and remember him.
Zoe and Glen sang, John played a saxophone solo, Debbie talked and Karen read. We were surrounded by love, friends and family who toasted A, swopped tales of younger years, shared food, laughed and shed a tear. Aidan’s life had two halves, the before 15 in Cape Town and the after in Brisbane so, it was fitting to share the missing part of his life with those who shared the beginning.
Oh Hail the Pirate Chef.
The other day in conversation it was mentioned that a man I know is “trying to be happy” in his marriage. Trying to be happy, what does that mean and where does it leave his wife knowing that the person you live with is half there, half committed, half happy – if even …or is she the last to know I wondered.
How cool it must be to advocate all responsibility and cop out to living and committing to the full. Being half present, half aware, trying but always doubting, perhaps always looking for something to fill the half empty.
To me it’s a basic life principle. You only know this minute and you can only recall the past. What if you were to die in the next instant but you do not know that yet. Why waste time that you do not know you have. It is important to live in the now.
For some it seems easy to ride the wave of excuses such as – I had a terrible childhood and it defines me or I’ll hang onto this cement block that chains me to my unhappiness because it’s easier to make excuses and lay blame rather than to take responsibility for my part, accept, turn the other cheek, face it, leave it behind and move on and find fulfilment.
The flame of life is passed on to uphold that which is blessed not which compromises or is selfish.
Forge ahead, remain in the now and take each moment as it presents to you as a gift. Find the joy in the now. Embrace the now. Live in the now as it is all you really have and it might be your last. Don’t waste life, some have died for you to realise how precious and what a gift life is. Live it.
May you be blessed.
Love Alison
God grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change,
courage to change the things I can,
and the wisdom to know the difference.
Aidan Cale Needham
25/06/86 – 20/10/10
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
