Saturday 16 May 2015

Small, beautiful things

A lovely woman I know has just come through treatment for breast cancer that included the removal of one breast and her lymph nodes. Her journey has been gruelling and exhausting, but she told me her daughter did a beautiful thing that made all the difference... She delivered a basket filled with small wrapped gifts to ease the boredom of a long hospital stay. Along with useful items and plenty of podcasts loaded onto an iPod, there were uplifting notes written by my friend's young grandchildren and rolled into miniature scrolls.

As well as being perfect for anyone going through a tough time with their health, this lovely gesture could be applied to many of the challenging scenarios we tend to find ourselves in. Looking back, I would have quite like to have received a 'You're Getting Divorced' gift basket filled with lots of chocolate, a self-help book or 10 and sage words written by my sweet and highly entertaining loved ones.

Pass it on. xxx




Tuesday 5 May 2015

(Bitter)sweet 16

My eldest son turned 16 just over a month ago. He’s a lovely boy, easygoing and rock solid, with a wry sense of humour and a strong sense of self.

He is his Dad’s mirror image and has inherited some of X’s finer qualities, but is very much his own young man. I listen to the way he communicates with his mates and it’s clear that he knows how to be a good friend. According to my youngest son, he’s also a pretty cool big brother. 

He’s got a few good female friends but, as far as I know, there isn’t anyone special just yet. Right now he’s way too focused on learning to drive and building on his computer skills so he can follow his desired career path.

He’s got a plan. He’s sensible, trustworthy and even-tempered, and gives me not one ounce of grief. Needless to say, I adore him.

Looking at my boy so grown up and secure in himself has made me think about myself at the same age. I was living in the middle of the outback in a pretty chaotic environment, with alcoholism at its core. My parents were long divorced and my Mum and Stepfather were heading in the same direction. And to make things just a little more testing, I had recently had my first experience of heartbreak.

Along with nursing my aching heart, I spent a lot of my 16th year fantasising about finishing school and escaping to the city to pursue my dream of being a writer. On weekends I had taken to sneaking out to the local clubs. I was restless and frustrated and wild at heart. I wanted to grow up way before I was ready to and left home way too young.



If I could give a piece of advice to the wide-eyed, small-town girl I once was, it would go something like this:

Stop being in such a hurry… Life unfolds soon enough and suddenly the years start passing at a rapid pace, to the point that you’ll actually want them to slow down.

When it comes to matters of the heart, trust that things will go exactly the way they are meant to and that your truest love will appear out of thin air, when you least expect him to. In the meantime, focus on the really important things – family, friends that will be there till the bitter end, work that makes you happy and travelling to all those faraway places you’ve always dreamed of.

And re the guy that just broke your heart, he will quickly pale into insignificance. His role is to deposit a good dose of resilience deep in your ventricles, to be drawn upon at a later date. When you encounter him again in 30 years’ time, it will be abundantly clear that you made an extremely lucky escape.