Moving forward.

As July swiftly approaches I have realised I have ten months to climb some more ladders. Hopefully I will get high enough up the board that next May's snake won't leave me back at square one. It is possible that the grief snake wouldn't have been quite so devastating had it not been for the previous snake of covid-19, which seemed to give birth to a host of smaller snakes, loss of human contact, anxiety about the world outside my door and having to cut my Australian trip short to name but three. 

So now I have to start planning how to go forward. I have to move in order to find the ladders to climb. The world seems very strange. In England* the shops are open and soon you will be able to get your hair cut. You can't go to the gym or the swimming pool, but you can flock to an English* beach and soon go on holiday as long as the destination is in England*. Community centres and any activities they once held are still closed, volunteering that involves actual people face to face seems a long way off and I wonder if we will ever be able to go back.

*It is only England that has eased the lockdown so comprehensively and the English are not welcome in Wales or Scotland, I don't blame them. 

Snakes and ladders

I feel like I am back to square one, that all the progress of the last twelve months has been lost. The perfect storm of covid-19 was followed by May and it's constant "this time last year" moments. I knew it would happen, I knew I would weep for hours on end and long for Tall, but that feeling of being lost was heightened by being alone both physically and socially. May became June and the memories continued, but this year there was no birthday card, no present to open and there were no friends to help me raise a glass of bubbly on our wedding anniversary. 

The snakes haven't just been the expected ones, there are also all the ones related to covid-19, no volunteering, no groups, no support. There was a particularly unexpected one because I signed up to an online course. One area of support was meant to help me gain the confidence to get back to work and help me with the process. My link worker had been calling me weekly to find out how I was doing and he suggested I find a course to study online to keep myself busy, so I did. It was only after I had signed up that he told me that the course meant I had to exit the programme. I think it was that snake that did the most damage.

I spent a year climbing ladders, going down snakes, but generally feeling I was making progress. Now I feel like I am back to square one, I have no purpose, no reason to "live" and so I merely exist. My anxiety of leaving the house or using the phone is back and I find myself in a deep depression. 

Without Tall life is empty.

The terrible 'T's

The global pandemic and the measures to contain it have caused mental health issues in a lot of people. There will be many people who are grieving without having been given the chance to say goodbye, living with a guilt that their loved one was without family at the end. I can only imagine how awful that must be.

For me it has meant the terrible two 'T's, trapped and terrified. I feel trapped alone in the house. There are no phone calls, no family dropping by to wave through the window. All the connections I made outside have been lost, and the support services have abandoned me. I feel very alone. Everyone I know has somebody, a physical being to hug, someone to talk to or argue with, someone to interact with.

I tried getting out the house, tried walking a bit further to shop. My anxiety was off the scale. So many people outside, so many cars. The constant crossing the road to avoid those who had no intention of keeping their distance was mentally exhausting and by the time I got home I was in tears, terrified of the outside world. I am trying to be kind to myself, but it is hard. I hate myself for going backwards, I worked at getting myself to a place where I could travel to Australia, but all that has gone.

The anxiety inevitably leads to grief, the grief that I don't have Tall to hold my hand through these difficult times. Yesterday was the anniversary of his funeral, and I thought about him all day. I want to be strong for him, I want to be all the things he wished for me, but at the moment all I want is to be with him.

I have tried.

I have tried to keep myself busy, to occupy my troubled mind. I spent last week making a bird table from an old wooden pallet, using tools that Tall claimed were his. In truth he was faster and possibly more skilled, but as the only machines we were allowed to use at school were the ovens and sewing machines, it is hardly surprising. 

During the time that I waited for the glue and filler to dry the dark clouds descended once more. Thoughts of what Tall would have said heightened my sense of loss. I tried knitting, but I couldn't sit and concentrate. 

I bought a second rainwater butt and installed it without Tall. I cussed the fact I hadn't checked the size and had to drill a different hole lower down and buy a different pipe to fit on the 'T' piece from the first. 

I know I should be proud of what I have achieved, yet all I feel is empty. The current pandemic has me trapped within my four walls alone, the steps forward I had taken have been dashed away. There's no volunteering, no groups to attend. The reality of watching people talking on TV about getting back to normal once it is all over leave me recalling that my normal is exactly what I have now.

A new year.

As you will all know, the last couple of weeks have not been easy for me. I will never know how much of my anxiety and depression was due to grief and how much of it was due to the pandemic, I suppose that having to be locked away alone was only ever going to heighten my sense of loss. 

The grief is still with me, bubbling away at the back of my mind, but I realised that now the anniversary is over that I am setting out on a different year, a year of seconds. It will be interesting to see how I feel on our second wedding anniversary and my second birthday without Tall. The situation in the UK as regards the pandemic is still not good, so although the government in England has eased some restrictions, I'm going to try and stick to Scotland's advice and stay at home. The anxiety is here to stay for now.

So for now I will stay at home and watch comedy, make cake and try and work out where I am going. 

The spider web.

The whole world seems to be trapped in the cobwebs of covid-19. People everywhere are caught up, unable to escape, unable to move. Even if their lives aren't touched by the virus directly, the effects of lockdowns and not being able to connect physically with family outside the home causes them mental harm. So although individual circumstances vary greatly, I am, in essence, not alone. 

Right now the cobweb of grief is adding to my troubles, struggling with the empty chair, the mixture of memories of just how ill Tall had become and how brave he was, of how I should have saved him, even though it wasn't possible. 

I have been trying to find at least one positive thing every day and posting a photo on Instagram. They're not award winning photos, just a snapshot of something that makes me happy, even if it is only for the minute it takes to post it. 

Selfies

Selfish, self-absorbed, self-interested. I wonder if by the time you have finished reading you will agree that I am all of them, think I am only partly guilty or disagree completely. 

I am still sad that my much anticipated trip to Australia didn't go to plan. A friend asked me via email if it had helped with the grieving process for Tall, in some ways yes, but there was so much more I should have done. I know I should have been braver, more adventurous. It feels like unfinished business, as if there is something I should have done, but didn't. May be one day, when the world feels more settled, I will get back to finish my trip. I should think myself lucky I got there at all, but I feel cheated by the current pandemic.

The memory of Tall currently fills my waking moments and my dreams. I am trying via Instagram to find something every day this month that is positive. There has been a history of Mays being less than perfect. Illness and hospitals seem to block out the good ones and I need to try and alter that. I should be celebrating my daughter's birthday and that of Toni my faithful companion, not wallowing in sadness and grief and yet I am struggling.

My anxiety is really bad at the moment. I take Toni for a walk, but the noise of the cars passing makes me want to curl up in a ball. It sounds as if they are all revving their engines and driving ridiculously fast. I wonder where exactly they are all going and whether they even need to be out. Other people walking about, clearly not members of the same household, make me angry. Imagine how I felt at the conversation I have just heard. A mother walking with her two children, one about two the other four. I overheard her talking to her four year old,  she said they would go home, have something to eat and then visit nanny for a couple of hours. I wanted to scream "how come you aren't obeying the rules? What makes you so different from the rest of us?" Like so many I long to hug my grandchildren. To play with them and be part of their lives once more. 

Taken last May

 

Missing

Dear Tall.

Last night I dreamt about us. The two of us getting on with normal life, nothing special, just the boring stuff. You were walking alongside me, but I'm not sure now where we were. It felt so real, so real that when I woke to find you missing my heart broke into a thousand pieces once more. I wish I could tell you how much I need you to hug me. How much I miss having you to talk to. How much I miss you simply loving me.

I try to visualise how it felt to have your arms wrapped around me, I try to trick my mind into believing I can feel it, but today the mind trick won't work. I know all the analogies about the box with the pain button and the one about glitter (to name but two), I recite them to myself in the hope of calming my head and heart, but ultimately what I am feeling is normal. I must be kind to myself and just let it all out. 

The enforced isolation caused by the virus does little to help, the news articles on intensive care only reminding me of the awful events of almost three years ago when I thought I had lost you. You never did truly recover, and I worry for all those who have left intensive care, with many months of recovery ahead of them. Will they struggle too? 

I watch the TV and see people's lives and stories unfold. People who have found love again, a new happiness, and I am pleased for them. For me there will only be you, the love we had can never be repeated, and I know that no one would be able to match up to you, I'm far too picky. 

You will always have my heart.

Good Cheer Pixie

Glitter

As I begin another week of lockdown, I find myself being sucked down the plughole of grief. The anniversary of Tall's death in May is already dragging me back. The lockdown has left me feeling very alone. I know there are other people cut off from family and friends, front-line workers who have made a conscious decision to move out of their homes so that they don't make their family ill should they become infected, I know there are people who like me will never see their loved ones again, people who cannot even give their loved ones a proper funeral, but although my head tells me to be sympathetic, my heart is breaking for Tall. Having never been in this situation before I don't know if what I am experiencing is "normal", whether next year will be the same. My world is full of reminders of "this time last year". The seeds germinating, my granddaughter's birthday tomorrow, the garden springing to life, they are all reminding me of "this time last year" and I know that May will probably be full of tears. 

I have tried to occupy myself. I take Toni for a walk every morning, but the days then seem to drag. There is so much housework I could be doing, and yet I simply cannot motivate myself to do it. The only thing I have done is make my granddaughter a card and a cake. Last year Tall bought her a cuddly unicorn, her wanted to give her one last present. She probably won't remember where it came from in the years to come, but I will know and I will always remember. 

 If my granddaughter had her way it would be covered in glitter, personally I hate the stuff. 

"Grief is like glitter. You can throw a handful of glitter into the air, but when you try to clean it up. you'll never get it all. Even long after the event, you will still find some, tucked into corners, it will always be there..... somewhere."

A surprising week.

A week has passed since my last post and things feel a little more normal. The sun has been shining allowing me to spend time in the garden. I haven't been able to get hold of my normal seeds and so I improvised with using seeds from a tomato I had bought, seeds from a capsicum I was using for cooking and some seeds that I saved last year from a butternut squash. The tomatoes and squash have both produced seedlings in less than a week and I am patiently hoping the capsicum won't disappoint. I hope all those panic buyers are as green fingered. 

 The time in the garden helps my mood and I think myself extremely lucky that I have a space in the fresh air, surrounded by nature, when there are people in lock down in flats, unable to get out. I still can't get my head around many of the jobs that need doing, jobs which should have been done last year that now feel like mountains, jobs that only this year have become obvious. I still miss the second opinion and second pair of eyes. The current situation means I can't even get my own family over to help. 
 

   

Tall seems to be back with me. How do I know? Well, I have a spooky tale to tell. Two days ago I changed the bedding. After Tall died I bought new bed sets, a fresh look that didn't mean I expected to see him every time I walked into the room. The following day I woke to find a blood stain on the pillowcase on Tall's side of the bed. I checked myself from head to toe, no signs of injury on me. I checked the dog, she was clear too. The blood had just appeared, it wasn't there when I put the pillowcase on and it wasn't there when I went to sleep. There's only one explanation........

Home is where the heart is.

As you would expect ruby slippers are very expensive, but despite that, I decided the UK was where I needed to be. Unfortunately my journey wasn't quite as quick as Dorothy's, but I made it back home eventually. The stress of the situation in the UK was clearly on the minds of the people who I saw at the regulation 2m distance after I had landed. They all seemed stressed and bad-tempered, not a smile amongst them. The weather in Manchester was grey, matching the mood around me and I looked forward to just being home. 

It wasn't how I expected it to be. A wave of disappointment washed over me as I sat and had a cuppa, things just didn't feel right. I put it down to jet lag, or simple tiredness. I hoped that the next day the world would seem brighter, even if I could only view it from my window for the next fourteen days. The following day the feeling was still there, a sense that something just wasn't right. Now at this point you might all think I have gone crazy, but it feels like I left Tall in Australia. I wish I could express what I mean better, I just sense that there is a hole in my world, a great big hole that wasn't there when I left. 

When I arrived in Australia it was night and so it wasn't until the next day that I saw the front garden. As I helped get the shopping out of the car I spotted a plant below L.'s office window. I commented on it and she told me she had planted it a few years ago, but it had not grown back before this year, when it had reappeared and flowered again. Tears started rolling down my face and I hurried inside. The plant? A simple snapdragon, Tall loved them, they were in his funeral flowers. Tall had been there before me and I fear I have left him behind.

 

The land of Oz

"Toto, I've a feeling we're not in Kansas any more." 

Like Dorothy I find myself in a world that is very different from the one I was in just a few weeks ago. I know that in reality we all are. Unlike Dorothy I don't have my faithful dog and only two of the three companions, but I'm not too sure which ones they are!

So far I have had three flights cancelled, and the Yellow Brick Road seems to be taking me in circles, I'm nowhere near getting help from the fabled Wizard, the British High Commission in Canberra. Currently it is more like the Munchkins. 

I am one of the lucky ones, yes I am currently stuck, but I have a roof over my head, good food and pleasant company. There are many more who have left their accommodation only to find their flights cancelled as transit airports suddenly closed. People who gave up jobs because they were told by the British government to come home now, even though the flights were already doomed. 

Life outside is treacherous, covid-19 hangs in the air like the Wicked Witch's flying monkeys. The solution is of course water, well soap and water, and plenty of it for at least 20 seconds. 

Hopefully one day soon I'll find my ruby slippers, click my heels three times, and say "there's no place like home."

A land of dragons.

On Saturday, after all our state hopping, Dave drove us up to Tamborine Mountain. Much of the subtropical rainforest was cleared for agriculture, human settlement and logging, but some remains and some has been replanted. 

We first stopped off at Gallery Walk, a street filled with cafes, souvenir shops, distilleries and craft shops. After walking down the one side of the street we crossed over and walked back up the other, stopping off for a cream tea. It was in the gardens of the cafe that I spotted a species of fern that Lynne said was a elk fern (Platycerium bifurcatum), just one of many plants I saw.

After our cream tea we set off for the Tamborine Mountain Botanic Gardens, where we walked through the a rainforest garden, saw a couple of lizards having a fight and found a sculpture by Matt Bird, somthing that Lynne found hysterical.

We then set off for Curtis Falls, in the Tamborine National Park. The walk down to the falls was amazing. The tall straight trees growing ever upwards in an attempt to reach the sun. The forest full of the sounds of birds. The strangler figs in particular were very impressive.

After our walk back up the hill and a cool drink we set off for The Glow Worm Caves.

As I was about to walk down the path a great big metre (well maybe not quite) long lizard ran across the path in front of me. I shouted out in surprise, but by the time I got my camera out it had disappeared into the bushes. I did however get to take some photos of some juvenile Eastern water dragons. 

The glow worm cave was truly beautiful, like a million stars twinkling in the night sky, they didn't fail to please. The project had originally collected 300 glow worms from the forest and the colony is now nearly 10,000. If you are ever in the area I highly recommend a trip to the caves.

Two days, three states.

On Thursday we travelled to the Gold Coast in Queensland. Looking out of the window as we flew there was very little to see other than a patchwork of fields and trees that followed the path of water. So much space without towns or cities.

As we approached the Gold Coast Airport it became clear (or more precisely not clear) that the Sunshine State wasn't feeling very sunny, maybe it had heard about the coronavirus. 

 As we landed the heavens opened, we had been expecting sunshine, so none of us had thought to bring a coat and my showerproof jacket was in my case. As we walked across the tarmac we got a bit wet and it turned out so did my case. It must have been on top of the pile as the rain had managed to make the contents slightly damp!

We drove down to Surfer's Paradise to have lunch . I retrieved my jacket from my case and Lynne found out her fleece, but Dave braved it in shirt sleeves. We managed to get to the place we were eating without getting too wet as the showers came and went. After eating the story was a very different one, at that point the shower became torrential rain with a wind to match. Dave popped into a shop to buy and umbrella, which instant turned itself inside out. We tried walking back to the car, but the wind was so strong we had to take shelter in the protection of a hotel lobby. Eventually as the rain showed no signs of abating we decided to just go for it, by the time we got back to the car poor Dave looked as if he had showered with his clothes on. Luckily there was a dryer where we were staying. 

On Friday I set out early (5:45) to make my way on public transport to the kayaking and snorkelling trip I had booked. Although the rain had stopped there was still quite a breeze and the sea was slightly choppy so we were driven further up the coast where the waters were slightly calmer and we were closer to Wave Break Island. We kayaked over to the island, but it was a real struggle for me in my one person kayak, trying to keep up with the twenty-something couples in the other three. The currents were too strong and so the second island was cut from the trip, even the strongest pair couldn't make headway. It didn't really matter to me, it was the snorkelling that really interested me. 

In the afternoon Dave drove us down the coast to New South Wales to Cabarita Beach and on the way I stood next to The Centenary of Federation State Border marker that stands on Border Drive to prove I had been in two states at the same time. 

 As we drove back in the twilight I look out of the window to see bats, well actually flying foxes. I was amazed by their size, as I said to Lynne, in the UK we have flying mice, in Australia they have flying cats!

 

Safely arrived - check.

I'm a day late, but I am happy to report I arrived safely. The journey from Birmingham to Dubai was very pleasant and I watched both Last Christmas and Yesterday during the eight hour flight. I was lucky enough to have a row of three seats to myself and so I was able to lie down and snooze. I didn't fall into a deep sleep, but the power naps seemed to help the time pass quickly.

The journey from Dubai however wasn't quite so pleasant. It all started very badly when I realised too late that I had lost Tall's watch. I had had it made smaller so I could wear it so was wearing it when I came to security. I was told to take it off and put it in the tray, which I did and then in the rush created by the person on security I thought I had picked it up and put it in my back pack. It was only later that I realised I hadn't. As Tall would have said, there's no point crying over spilt milk, so I have taken it on the chin, but it is strange not having the weight around my wrist.

That was followed by a flight that was delayed by practically the last person on the plane who almost instantly informed the steward he had left his jacket in the airport. Ground staff were called, but no jacket was evident, he spoke to them himself and then after that he went back to his seat, grabbed his bag and left the plane. This caused the staff to have to do a security check, all the overhead lockers had to be checked in case he had left a bomb behind. It took so long that the man had time to get his jacket and return to the flight! Personally I would have been tempted to shut the doors and refuse him boarding. 

The long thirteen hours flight wasn't nice, not helped by the fact I had a seat on the last row before the galley. The constant chatter from two particular members of the crew could be heard over the sound from the film I was trying to watch, spoiling it. The space behind my seat was used for the second half of the journey as a place for people to stretch their legs, something I did myself so I do understand, but their chatter became annoying. The person in front had their seat reclined from the moment the take off was completed until we came to land, I had to eat at a very strange angle, his seat angled over the tray. The final straw was the fact that as the last seat I was constantly ignored by staff, their eyes on the prize of getting back to the galley I was left without drinks and with my food tray uncollected. In the end I had to go to the galley and ask for drinks and return my own rubbish. I just hope the flight back is less eventful!

Tomorrow I'm off to the Gold Coast, and I will fill you all in on my adventures when I get back. I'll leave you all with a photograph of Freddo's Australian cousin, though he is here too. 

Check-in, check.

Well I've completed the online check-in. Clueless as to which seats are the best, I just let the airline assign me a seat. I have an aisle seat for the first leg, but am stuck between two people on the second leg, there were no aisle seats left to Melbourne.Luckily I am short, I don't need the leg room that Tall did, so fingers crossed, all should be okay. 

The butterflies in my stomach / nervousness is starting to keep me awake at night, hopefully that means once I am on the plane, sleep will come easily.  

 

Ready.....

Apart from essential items like my phone charger and my laptop I am now packed. My stomach fills with butterflies whenever I think about Sunday. Only a few days to go.

Only a week to go.

A week tomorrow I set off on my adventure and the excitement has turned to anxiety. I knew it would happen, I thought I could handle it though, but today I feel paralysed and terrified.

This morning I have woken up anxious about almost every aspect of the trip. Worried and sad about leaving Toni for so long. I know she is going to suffer with terrible separation anxiety and there's nothing I can do about it. I'm worried about leaving my daughter here alone, it's a lot of responsibility when you aren't used to the routine Toni expects. 

Then there is the growing crisis with Covid-19, what if I catch it on the way to Australia? I'm not particularly worried about my own long term health, chances are that I would recover, more the responsibility of spreading it without realising. All I can do is follow recommended practice and keep washing my hands. 

I am worried about the homesickness which I know I will at some points feel. I haven't ever been on a holiday without feeling "I just want to be at home" at some point. This time I have no Tall to share it with. No anchor to hold me from drifting into a morose state. I just hope my wonderful hosts don't take it personally, it certainly won't be anything to do with them. 

I won't let it beat me. Despite the crippling paralysis that it brings, I am going to push through the anxiety, hope we don't have another storm (today is the fourth weekend in a row with a storm warning), and I will make sure that next Sunday I am on that plane. 

Southport here I come.

For all my readers in the UK that isn't Blackpool's posh sister, but Southport the Gold Coast. I now have a trip to Queensland planned as part of my Australian adventure. I have been looking at what the Gold Coast has to offer, and there's a lot. Obviously there are the beaches, the Gold Coast is famous for, but for travellers who want to see more and have a car there is the Hinterland, a region of mountains and rainforest, I wasn't expecting that. 

The Gold Coast has over 400 km (about 250 miles) of rivers and canals "ten times longer than Venice"and there are river cruises that go through rainforest and trips to see dolphins and then snorkel through ship wrecks, you might just get to see a turtle they say. 

A little closer to where I am staying there are kayak tours. I am really interested in the half day island kayaking and snorkelling tour.  They say there's a chance you might see dolphins as you paddle through the calm warm water, even if I don't there's the tropical fish to snorkel with. It brings back memories of Tall and me snorkelling in Turkey, a very happy memory, tinged with a bit of sadness that he won't be with me this time. 

There's clearly a lot to see and do and there's no way I can fit it all in to one trip!

Voyage of discovery

With only three weeks to go I decided yesterday to do some serious research into the place I am about to visit. I had looked briefly before, but I have never been one who revises early. The internet is a wonderful thing but I was struck, as someone whose country has history dating back two thousand years, how young Victoria is as a state. Obviously Australia has a history before it was colonised by Europeans, but that history isn't one of ancient castles or Roman settlements. There is no long line of kings and queens to learn. I know there was a gold rush and that the "Welcome Stranger" nugget was found in the state in 1869 and I know that Victoria was once part of New South Wales, separating in 1851. 

So instead I will look to the present. The places I might go, the things I might see and the adventures I might have. I found out there is a City Circle Tram that tourists can use for free all day, its hop on - hop off service allowing tourists to discover Melbourne. How exciting! I have found out that public transport uses a preloaded card called a myki. We have the same thing here in the West Midlands called a Swift card, but here the buses still take cash too. There's a special myki card called the myki Explorer for tourists, but I have to say the information on how it works exactly is a bit thin on the ground. You buy it and it gives you "one day’s unlimited travel on trains, trams and buses in metropolitan Melbourne", but it doesn't say if you can buy it the day before and then activate it. No doubt I'll find out soon enough. 

Then there is the food and drink. The Melbourne Food & Wine Festival is on when I am over. Even if I don't get there I might get to one of the many wineries in Victoria's five distinct wine regions. Pinot and Shiraz to name but two. I have to say the Shiraz I drank in the UK recently was out of this world. 

I hope to see something of the nature, it would be a shame to go all that way and see nothing, even if it is only a few birds that are a novelty. Looking at the Visit Victoria there seems to be a lot of nature to see, some of it in places that don't appear to be so far from home. Rhyll, Tenby and Anglesea (they can't spell!)

My first Valentine's Day alone.

Strictly speaking it isn't my first Valentine's Day alone, there were seventeen growing up and four during separation and divorce, but this is my first Valentine's Day without my soulmate Tall. 

How do I feel? Oddly, not as sad as I thought I would feel. I had a bit of a cry when I found out last year's cards and read the words, but once that was done I felt a calmness, a relief. If I retell the events of last year may be it will help explain.

Tall and I had never been big on Valentine's Day, it being nothing more than a commercial opportunity. Our love for each other was clear three hundred and sixty days of the year, you have to allow five days when we would have annoyed each other. Last year we both knew it would be our last and Tall wanted to make sure it was marked. He was desperate to buy me a card, but he was just too ill to get out of the car. I suppose he could have gone online and ordered one, but instead he had to send me into the shop to choose my own. I must have looked at fifty cards, carefully reading the words, looking for the words that I knew in my heart would be the ones Tall would choose. Silently, tears rolled down my face as I knew it was my last card. Another customer spotted me and asked if I was okay. I explained that I was buying a card for my dying husband to give to me and she kindly tried to help. Eventually I found my card, and started looking for one for me to give to Tall. 

I have to admit that looking at the cards this morning I slightly regretted my choice of card for Tall, I should have chosen something more serious, more romantic, although the words I wrote inside probably make up for it. Last year my heart was breaking. All the "knowing" about what was happening, the constant "this is the last time" had me permanently in tears. Tall would tell people that he hadn't got long and they would smile and laugh, "don't be daft". No one believed him and so I was almost completely alone in my grief. 

So this year there is a sense of relief, released from last year's pressure of knowing what was to come. It has happened, the worse is over. I still have Tall's words from that card. 

"I've loved you since the second we met and I will love you to eternity."

My Shrek moment.

After my rant here yesterday I felt much better. I often wonder in the days that follow whether I should delete those posts that were a flash in the pan, a very quick moment of anger or sadness soon forgotten. I have mostly decided to let them stay. Yesterday was actually important in that it reminded me of how awful life with Tall's illnesses could be sometimes. Even if I should never have felt the way I did, the fact is that I did. The paralysing panic that I felt so many mornings, evenings and nights, the panic only relenting once I was on my way to see how he was for myself. Of course I should have been more trusting of the medical staff, but unfortunately events the very first time Tall was admitted coloured my reactions for every other admission. That very first time Tall was in horrendous pain, he had asked for paracetamol and five hours later when I arrived for visiting he still hadn't had any. The line was drawn and I never trusted the system again. 

Today I miss Tall because we are in the middle of a storm. A fence panel has already been lost and the forecast is that the winds will be here for another ten hours, who knows what else might go. I miss having a second pair of hands and a second opinion. As I type it I realise that the Tall I miss is the Tall that was fit and healthy. The Tall from before 2017, the one that put decking down with me, the one who could cut the hedges and take part in life. I'm sad that Tall had to go through two years of not being the man he wanted to be. The frustration he felt would make him angry and he was often sad, although he wouldn't admit it, he always wanted be be seen as the optimist. As time passes I am able to see the multiple layers of my grief for what they are. As Shrek would say "Ogres are like onions. Onions have layers and ogres have layers." Grief is like an onion too.

Emotional deja vu.

Late afternoon yesterday I got a message from my son Tigger asking if I was up to anything over the weekend (he wants something). I said no to which he replied, can I have a bed as I' doing something with my mates Saturday. So I said yes, and went upstairs to move my (empty) suitcase. 

He drove up straight from work, buying Chinese food on the way. We spent a pleasant evening enjoying our food and watching a box set he recommended (he isn't a great talker when it comes to his mom.) I do try making conversation, but I don't like sounding like a cross-examiner so my questions tend to be short and open ended. 

After a few episodes my bed was calling, so off I went and I was soon asleep. That was until 12:50 when my son sent me a message saying "I'm just popping out to help someone." Now I would like to draw the jury's attention to the phrase "popping out". When I woke at 7:30 this morning he wasn't back. The second I saw the door open and an empty bed I became a anxious, tearful wreck. I know that as a policeman Tigger faces danger every day. I know that I could one day get a call to say he is injured or even dead. Yet, even though I an at peace with that, him being "missing" from my house brought out feelings I don't want to feel.

I was taken back to all those worried evenings, and terrified mornings, when Tall was in hospital and couldn't text, too ill to let me know he was still alive. I would call the ward, but the phone was never answered. I would spend hours terrified until eventually Tall would manage to answer me in a brief moment of lucidity. I never, ever want to feel like that again. 

I know it is a problem in my head, but I don't know how to solve it. I managed to talk myself down this morning, my son is a grown man and not my responsibility, but it has still left me feeling fragile. I realise I cannot cope with anyone being here whose actions might cause me worry. My brain flies to what ifs the second I cannot contact them, or they are secretive about what they are doing or where they have been. An ex-husband who betrayed me plays a part in my anxiety, but in truth I recall feeling the anxiety on rare occasions before that. Is it my father leaving, even though I have no memories of him ever being in my life? 

No matter what the cause, until I find a cure, I don't think I can have someone living with me. I cannot cope with the uncertainty when they are late or go off without telling me where. I am a control freak.

Ying and Yang of life

After all the happiness and excitement of the past week it was almost inevitable that there would be at some point a counter balance. This morning the happiness is turned to grief and the excitement is now guilt. I am about to make the trip that Tall longed to make himself. In what feels like the briefest of years between us getting married and Tall's kidneys failing we were trying to save, but it wasn't easy, things would happen and the money would be spent.

The cruel irony is, that by the time we were making progress with the saving, Tall had to start dialysis. Whenever the staff mentioned taking our home dialysis on holiday Tall would chirrup up "what about Australia?"  The answer was always that it would be difficult to organise. The truth, I suspect, was that it would cost the hospital too much, and you can't blame them. Tall looked into organising dialysis in a unit in Australia, but the distances elsewhere in the world are not the same as in the UK. We were incredibly lucky that Tall's unit was a 15 minute walk from the house, so a mere 5 minute drive plus ten for parking. 

For the last two years Tall wasn't well enough to go anywhere really. He bravely tried to be "normal" but it was clear for all to see how ill he was. He still dreamed of visiting Australia. Kept hoping that his health would improve, until he realised it wasn't going to. 

Now I am making that trip. Don't get me wrong, I want to go, but I feel so guilty that Tall isn't the one stepping off the plane. I can hear his voice telling me to do it for us both, and that makes me cry because I miss him. I'm sorry we didn't make it together Tall.

So my message is one that I have heard many times, I'm sure everyone has. Don't put things off because you don't know what is going to happen tomorrow. We all think we have all the time in the world, but the years slip away so quickly.

It has come to this.

Well, after twenty-four hours of searching for a carry-on bag suitable for Emirates, I have discovered this:

Kody Koala. There are other Happy Sammies available, I was tempted by Aubrie Alpaca, but Kody seems so much more appropriate. 

I'm just not sure I have enough guts to actually turn up with it!

Education is a good thing.

On the day I booked my flights my daughter came round and after I had told her my plans we excitedly started discussing what I should take. I got the small case down from the loft so we could check that it met requirements. Size wise it seemed fine, although it weighs quite heavy, reducing what I can take in my 7kg allowance. No matter we said, a few things could be in my handbag, oh how naive I am. 

It was only yesterday when I was checking online to find out what time I needed to get to the airport, that I discovered I could actually use the reference I was given to book seats (if I wanted to spend the extra) or say if I had special dietary requirements. Again how naive, or maybe it is just that in eleven years things have moved on. It was on Emirates's website that I discovered two things, the first that the ticketing only allows for one space in the name. I was in a complete panic when I saw my ticket was in the name Goodcheer Pixie instead of Good Cheer Pixie. I had heard so many stories of people not being able to fly because of a typing error, the name not matching the passport. I instantly contacted them and was reassured it would be okay. Now you might all think that's perfectly normal, but for me it is a massive achievement, it was always Tall who spoke to people and sorted stuff out. 

The second thing I discovered is, that unless you are in first class or business class, you are only allowed to carry on one, yes one, item. I also discovered that the dimensions my daughter and I had used weren't the dimensions that Emirates use, so a new carry on bag may be required. So for all of us peasants it is handbag or suitcase, it's a no brainer really. It will be weird putting it all in a case, but I'll survive. 

So the adventure is turning out to be an education too. I am out of touch with how technology is being used to check-in online instead of at the airport, I'm not sure it really helps when you have baggage to check-in anyway, but I'm ready to hear the advantages. I have learnt there is no standard size or weight for luggage and that ticketing only has one space in the name.  

Only five more weeks!!!!

January 2020

It's the last day of the first month of the new decade so I thought I would reflect on how it has gone. Looking back I know there have been days of despair, but the days when I just want to be with Tall are getting fewer and fewer. At the start of the month I blogged about my intentions for the new decade, my hopes and my vague plan to help people. I still have one hundred and nineteen months, so plenty of time. 

I have shared my days of despair, days, which in hindsight, had a cause. When something upsets me I want turn to the one person who always was on my side and by my side, it is then that his loss is felt so badly and grief is triggered once more. In acknowledging that I am allowing myself to grieve and at the same time that permission is like a hug from Tall. I can hear him saying "it's okay, you're allowed to be upset", something said so often during those last few months. 

Thirty days ago I had no immediate plans to visit Australia, the idea was one that was going to happen, but when was a mystery. It was Tall's birthday that was the final kick up the proverbial, I remembered how he kept saying how he would love to fly out to Melbourne, without telling anyone, and turn up on the doorstep. He loved being impulsive. He once took a flight just to give someone a birthday card, well that was the story he told. I decided I might as well follow his lead and so I just did it. I did check with my hosts that they weren't in the middle of something that meant my presence was a nuisance, unlike Tall, I don't have the skin of a rhino!  

So January has been a success, I feel stronger than I did at the start of it. The light at the end of the tunnel seems to be brighter, although I know there may be times when it seems night has fall and the light is temporarily extinguished.  I am better prepared mentally to cope with what life throws at me. Tall would be so proud of me.

No going back.

Or more precisely, there's no going back on my plan to visit Australia, the flights are booked and that's that. I have my visa, it only took an hour from application to approval, now that is efficiency. So now all I have to do is pack a suitcase, making sure it weighs less than 30 kg, but still has enough clothes to wear, well at least enough until I manage to wash some. 

I have read and re-read what I can carry into the country, what I can carry through airport security and what I can carry out of the UK, but not through Dubai, even if it is only being used as a connection airport (go figure.) I have bookmarked all the pages so I can check, double check and triple check. You can't be too careful when it comes to airport security. I even have plans to disinfect all my shoes, Australia doesn't like mud, with good reason I expect (okay I am exaggerating a bit.)

I have to find a 20cm x 20cm clear plastic bag that can be sealed, ziploc or the like. Fold over sandwich bags or bags that have been tied are not acceptable. Once I have one, I have to put all my jars, bottles, tubes or tubs, (that contain less than 100ml ) into it, making sure they aren't too cramped and the bag is sealed. I bet if I wait until the airport they will be selling them for a fiver! 

I have told my children I will bring them all a penguin back, they all seemed surprised that Australia has penguins (what do they teach them in school these days.) After the terrible bush-fires there certainly  won't be any spare kolas and the grey headed flying foxes are on the verge of extinction.  If push comes to shove I'll buy them a McVities Penguin.

On searching for a photo of  a Penguin biscuit I discovered they are similar to Australian Tim Tams!

I am seriously excited. I have a new suitcase to collect tomorrow and I can't wait to start filling it, not too sure about getting it to the airport though! :)
 

Unaccustomed traveller

I'm the Good Cheer Pixie and I am NOT a frequent flyer. The fact is that until I met Tall I didn't have a passport, I had never been on an aeroplane. Over the first five years we flew five times. Once Tall was told he was ill we flew no more.

It is over ten years since I last flew with Tall by my side and now I am about to plan the biggest journey of my life, a flight to Australia. I have to confess I am "scared" of so many things. I was scared of getting to Heathrow Airport until I found out I can travel from Birmingham and only have to wait an extra hour at Dubai to get the connecting flight, I am scared of getting lost at the stopover airport and missing that connecting flight though. 

All the things that we organised together, the sharing of the responsibility, the packing and checking and double checking, that all falls on my shoulders. I am researching what I can, I have applied for my visa and looked at a hotel for when I arrive, it would be unreasonable of me to expect my hosts to drive to collect me at the ungodly hour I arrive, I don't have a clue how long customs will take. But, then I worry about getting to the hotel, will I be ripped off by the taxi driver who will know instantly I'm a foreigner, or am I being unfair judging all taxi drivers the same way? I am trying my hardest to be logical and calm, I am actually really excited at the prospect of visiting Australia, even if it is a teeny weeny part of it. The fact is, I know if I can do this, I can do anything, go anywhere (well obviously there are places I wouldn't go as a lone female).  

I worry that my hosts will get fed up of my endless silly questions about what to do before / during /after the flight, (they are far more experienced but as yet haven't emailed them a list of my silly questions).  Tall would have just known. I'm not sure whether he was:

           a) the font of all knowledge

           b) a good internet researcher

           c) blessed with the gift of the gab.

I just know he seemed to know EVERYTHING. How I miss that bravado and confidence. 

My answer to it all is lists. Endless lists of what I need to do, what I need to pack, a carefully orchestrated timetable with contingency plans. Well that's my plan, I just haven't started it yet!!