Love and Loss

The Kiss.

by frogpondsrock on October 20, 2011

in Amy,Autism,Isaac,Love and Loss

My grand son, Isaac gave me a kiss yesterday. This might not seem like a very big deal to most people, but to me it was one of those golden moments, where I was left with the taste of strawberry lollypops on my lips and love in my heart.

This was my very first proper kiss, willingly given and I will store this memory up and savour it.

Isaac is 33 months old and he has Autism. Isaac does not like to be touched.

When I visit, he will eventually come and sit next to me on the couch but if I go to stroke his hair or touch his hand he pulls away from me. So we sit side by side and talk of small things.

My grand daughter, Amy on the other hand launches herself at me and sits on my lap and chatters incessantly about things that matter to a five year old. Her dragon fly mind, flits from subject to subject and I relate very strongly to this child.

I look at Amy’s sensory seeking behaviours and I see myself mirrored there, I like to touch things to see how they feel. I like to occasionally touch people as I am talking to them as it gives me a better sense of who they are. I like to feel the world breathing with me.

Quite by chance I had bumped into my daughter Veronica at a shopping centre, as she was getting ready to leave, Amy gave me a big hug and a kiss, I looked at Isaac and said, “C’mon Isaac give Nanny a kiss goodbye”

Isaac actually walked over to me, raised his little face to mine and gave me a proper kiss right on the lips.

A proper kiss.

On the lips.

It was sweet.

As he raised his face to mine everything slowed down, there was only this little boy who I love with all my heart and I,

In that moment, just for that split second it was only the two of us. I gently kissed my grandson and Isaac kissed me in return.

I will savour the memory of this kiss as I reckon it will have to do me for a while.

Now my lovelies that I have shared my joy, I must finish packing my bags and head to the airport.

I am attending the problogger event in Melbourne tomorrow and if you are there and want to say hello I will be the one floating two inches above the floor with my memory full of strawberry kisses.

 

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Winter.

by frogpondsrock on June 29, 2011

in cancer,Grief,Love and Loss

It is winter and my hands are cold.

I am sad and tired.

I miss my Mother more than I could ever have imagined and I am fighting off a bout of self pity.

I don’t ask the question

Who is going to comfort me

Because I know the answer.

I am tired

Tired of the cold.

Tired of never being asked how I am

Tired of people.

Tired of shallowness.

I am tired of being nice and tired of being polite

I think I should just go out and get smashed and run amok

And I would,

Except I don’t want the hangover and the sore head and the blackness of spirit that comes from all that negative energy.

But

At the end of the day I am truly an optimist,

And even in my bleakest moments I can go outside and see something that lifts my spirit.

A tiny abandoned nest in the raspberry canes made me smile.

The thought that small birds had been nesting so close to the house makes me inordinately happy.

Some days it is the smallest things that keep me going.

 

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Thank Goodness for Dory

by frogpondsrock on May 17, 2011

in blogging,David,headfuck,Love and Loss,Sadness

Because if it wasn’t for her I would have stopped swimming long ago.

This blog is only a slice of my life, it is a tiny snippet of how things are. I use the blog to get the words out of my head. I write out the sad, press publish and then walk away. The simple act of writing out how I feel, helps me to make sense of my emotions so that my head doesn’t explode with the weight of the words circling like so many hungry buzzards inside my mind.

I think hungry buzzards as a metaphor was a bit over the top but the image  of words with wings flying in lazy circles is making me smile.

I like this internet connection I have with you. I like the fact that Jess can hear the stones whisper, that Achelois completely gets where I am coming from, Janet sends me dragonfly notebooks and youtube clips, April sends me chocolate and Christmas ornaments that remind her of dragon eggs.

There are far too many of you to list but you all help me and I am grateful.

But there is a dark side to the internet community as well. A darker side that is giving me the shits. Trolls are not uncommon, plagiarism is rife, a holier than thou attitude is starting to come to the fore, cronyism is becoming more obvious and mini dicatorships are springing up left right and centre.

And now the Australian mummybloggers have a manifesto.  I will not be signing the bloggers manifesto. I will not be told what to do. I will especially not be told what to do in such simplistic terms, as if I am a child tottering about within the interwebs being told to “play nicely now.”

I like my manifestos to have a little more substance, to be a little heavier in weight, I like a manifesto that makes me think. My personal favourite is A Humanist Manifesto. Then there is the Dada manifesto, or the Communist manifesto or even the SCUM manifesto to give my brain an early morning work out.

But this post isn’t about blogging this post is about Dory whispering to me, to just keep swimming.

I took my teenage son to the doctor yesterday with the sole intention of getting him a prescription for anti depressants.

No mother wants to hear their child tell them that there isn’t any point in living because life is just too fucking hard.

The pressures of a new school environment where every bogan bully wants to fight the big guy in order to prove they don’t have small dicks. The constant pain from his Ehlers Danlos syndrome. The ongoing grief and loss from the death of his confidante and main support person, his Nan. All these things combined with the normal adolescent pressures were enough to send my son hurtling into a well of darkness and despair.

Our family GP could tell I meant business and he wrote out a prescription for David. He talked to David about lifestyle choices and the need for exercise and sunshine.

He also in one sentence totally dismissed David’s Ehlers Danlos Syndrome as being a contributing factor towards his depression.

For Fucks Sake.

This is the reality of living with a rare genetic condition in Tasmania.

Sometimes it is all just too hard for me as well.

But I am an adult, with 45 years of life experience behind me. I know that nothing is ever as hopeless as it first looks and I also have the clay which grounds me and gives me an outlet for my rage.

Dear internet, here are the words that are in my head.

I give them to you, so that they stop flying around my mind.

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Sunday Selections #4

by frogpondsrock on January 30, 2011

in Love and Loss,Mona,photography,sunday selections

This week I have had itchy writing fingers coupled with limited time at my desk, so scattered sentences have been tumbling around in my dreams, of course when I wake up all the words have gone into hiding and I haven’t had the time to hunt them down.

It has been a tumultuous week that started with driving my daughter Veronica to an early morning a radio interview and at ten pm that same night driving my son David to his friend who had left a suicide note as his facebook status and wouldn’t answer his phone. (He is alive)

Today isn’t the day to be writing about youth suicide, Invasion day and racism, the Mona museum, grief and autism and Hobart’s amazing clown doctors but the words are all there and they will make me write them out sooner rather than later.

As always I am constantly looking at the world around me in terms of light and shade and often the lines and shadows are more interesting to me than the actual objects themselves.

I took these photos inside the newly opened Mona Museum.

I take a lot of photos and most of them are just sitting around in folders on my desktop not doing anything. I thought that a dedicated post once a week would be a good way to share some of these photos that  otherwise wouldn’t be seen by anyone other than me.

I am also remarkably absent minded and I put photos into folders and think  that I will publish them later on and then then I never do.

So I thought I would start a photo meme that anyone can join in and play as well. The rules are so simple as to be virtually non existent.

Just add your name and URL to the Mr Linky. Publish your photos on your blog using the “Sunday Selection” title and link back here to me.

Easy Peasy.


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It is the now, that is difficult.

by frogpondsrock on August 19, 2010

in Amy,Family,Grief,Hope,Love and Loss

As humans we like to judge. We apply our own experiences and moral compass to situations and make snap judgements.

Sometimes I read a post written by my daughter and it breaks my heart because the pain in her words is the only clue that I have to the pain in her heart.

Other times I will read a post written by Veronica and I know that it was written purely to get the words out of her head, to give a tiny glimpse into how difficult parts of her life are.

Amy is an exceedingly difficult and tempestuous child to parent. She stretches and challenges every single one of Veronica’s parenting skills every single moment of every day.

It is very nearly impossible to get Amy to do something that she doesn’t want to. It isn’t because she is naughty or because she has pulled the wool over her mothers eyes.It certainly isn’t because Veronica is lacking some vital parenting skill. It is because Amy is so focused on doing what she wants to do in that moment, that nothing else registers. Some of the parenting advice that Veronica receives makes me shake my head and roll my eyes with frustration.

I have impeccable parenting skills. My ability to get small and not so small children to behave is legendary. I am also very good with dogs and horses. But with my grand daughter Amy I am at a loss. So I don’t bother with traditional discipline at all. We skirt issues and avoid situations and I use distraction as my main tool.

We do the same things every single time Amy comes to visit. We check for eggs, then together we cook Amy an egg.  We paint a picture or two, play with some clay, watch a bit of telly together or read some books and then we go outside and throw the ball for the dog.

When Amy was still eating gluten we would do all these things at a frenetic pace and at the end of her visit the house would be trashed and I would be exhausted. Minus the gluten we are still very busy together and Amy isn’t quite so exhausting.

Veronica and I have been talking about Aspergers and Amy, we have been talking about how there is a very real possibility that Amy has Aspergers. Now that the A word is out in the open I can look at Amy’s behaviour with fresh eyes. Veronica and I are noticing more and more things that Amy does and more importantly we are noticing things that Amy doesn’t do.

So the next time you see a small child running amok in the supermarket or having a tantrum in the middle of a shopping centre don’t be so quick to judge, to shake your head, to glare at the obviously incompetent parent. And as for the whispered advice that all the child needs is a bit of discipline, a good smack will fix her.You can keep that under your hat as well.

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