If this sounds somewhat idyllic, it's because it is! We are currently holidaying on the Gold Coast in Queensland, about 50m from the beach. We arrived on the 21st of December, and don't leave until the 4th of January. It has been just wonderful. We are staying with Bretsky's dad and brother in a unit, swimming nearly everyday, putting our feet up on the balcony to sip a G&T, read, play mahjong on the DS, so on and so forth. I know it's hard, I'll fly the flag for you.
We have been taking lots of cool photos on our new tiny canon camera, but the seaspray in the air is starting to play havoc with various electrical gear, so I might wait until we get home to upload them.
To all three of my readers, Merry Christmas, Love you.
Monday, December 28, 2009
Tuesday, December 8, 2009
A hard day
So.
Sunday was a hard day.
Every year for the last four Christmases we have attended a service at Kings Park for the families of children who have died from cancer, children who went through ward 3B at Princess Margaret Hospital. The service is organised by staff from 3B and a few berieved parents, Bretsky being one of them. The service starts with this song by Karen Taylor-Good, 'Precious Child'.
In my dreams, you are alive and well
Precious child, precious child
In my mind, I see you clear as a bell
Precious child, precious child
In my soul, there is a hole
That can never be filled
But in my heart, there is hope
'cause you are with me still
In my heart you live on
Always there, never gone
Precious child, you left too soon
Tho' it may be true that we're apart
You will live forever.....in my heart
In my plans, I was the first to leave
Precious child, precious child
But in this world, I was left here to grieve
Precious child, precious child
In my soul, there is a hole
That can never be filled
But in my heart there is hope
And you are with me still
In my heart you live on
Always there, never gone
Precious child, precious child
Tho' it may be tru that we're apart
You will live forever in my heart.
So.
I start crying when that song starts, and barely stop for at least the next hour. Prayers are said. People get up and read things they have written for their children, more songs are played. Siblings get to release white doves, and we all watch them spiral upwards, get their bearings and fly away free. We all release helium balloons, ours are brightly coloured, because Eliza was so brightly coloured. Bretsky, Jojo and I all write messages to Eliza on ours.....Mummy loves you Mummy loves you Mummy loves you Mummy loves you. By the time we release them, all three of us are sobbing.
Believe it or not, although it is hard and incredibly tiring, it is a very good and probably therapeutic thing to do. Christmas can't go past without us dedicating time to Eliza, and this way we can do it with the only people who can truly understand what it is like to see your child die from the effects of cancer. Everyone cries, no-one apologises, lots of hugs. I like to imagine that Eliza gets my balloons.
We went to one of our favourite cafes afterwards for a late breakfast, and then we went home. All three of us collapsed into bed, so utterly wiped out were we with the emotional stress of the morning. It's somewhat tiring even writing this, so now I will drink coffee with Bretsky, and go to bed again. Grief =marathon.
Sunday was a hard day.
Every year for the last four Christmases we have attended a service at Kings Park for the families of children who have died from cancer, children who went through ward 3B at Princess Margaret Hospital. The service is organised by staff from 3B and a few berieved parents, Bretsky being one of them. The service starts with this song by Karen Taylor-Good, 'Precious Child'.
In my dreams, you are alive and well
Precious child, precious child
In my mind, I see you clear as a bell
Precious child, precious child
In my soul, there is a hole
That can never be filled
But in my heart, there is hope
'cause you are with me still
In my heart you live on
Always there, never gone
Precious child, you left too soon
Tho' it may be true that we're apart
You will live forever.....in my heart
In my plans, I was the first to leave
Precious child, precious child
But in this world, I was left here to grieve
Precious child, precious child
In my soul, there is a hole
That can never be filled
But in my heart there is hope
And you are with me still
In my heart you live on
Always there, never gone
Precious child, precious child
Tho' it may be tru that we're apart
You will live forever in my heart.
So.
I start crying when that song starts, and barely stop for at least the next hour. Prayers are said. People get up and read things they have written for their children, more songs are played. Siblings get to release white doves, and we all watch them spiral upwards, get their bearings and fly away free. We all release helium balloons, ours are brightly coloured, because Eliza was so brightly coloured. Bretsky, Jojo and I all write messages to Eliza on ours.....Mummy loves you Mummy loves you Mummy loves you Mummy loves you. By the time we release them, all three of us are sobbing.
Believe it or not, although it is hard and incredibly tiring, it is a very good and probably therapeutic thing to do. Christmas can't go past without us dedicating time to Eliza, and this way we can do it with the only people who can truly understand what it is like to see your child die from the effects of cancer. Everyone cries, no-one apologises, lots of hugs. I like to imagine that Eliza gets my balloons.
We went to one of our favourite cafes afterwards for a late breakfast, and then we went home. All three of us collapsed into bed, so utterly wiped out were we with the emotional stress of the morning. It's somewhat tiring even writing this, so now I will drink coffee with Bretsky, and go to bed again. Grief =marathon.
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