Good (Grief) Friday

So, today has had it's ups and downs.  We all started the day by sleeping in until after 9.30am...a definite up because I think we all have a sleep deficit (and Bretsky almost never sleeps past 6.00am).  Had coffee in bed, showered, discussed plans for our upcoming holiday and when/how we should go about booking tickets.

Then followed a day of cleaning up without ever actually managing to make anything look any better.  I hate those days....down we go.  As an enjoyable activity, Jojo and I decided to make our own hot cross buns, something I had never done before, and I have to admit they were a raging success.  See how pretty?

My hot tip for helping yeast driven baking to rise, is to put your bowl of dough, tightly covered with gladwrap or some other such plasticcy thing, and pop it on the roof of your car which has been sitting in the sun all morning.  Works a treat.  They taste great, and were a definite up.

We also tried a bit of simple solar oven baking with the little pizza box solar oven that Jojo constructed at school two days ago.  We tried making damper in it yesterday...didn't work, but we also didn't start till about 4.00pm so we can forgive the sun for not being at her most powerful.  Today we set our sights and the clock a little lower.  We tried to cook an egg.  We set up the box in full sun, with the plastic cover newly and securely taped down.  Bretsky got out his digital thermometer probey thing and inserted the wires so that we would know when we had the optimum temperature.  We even put the little glass dish inside so it too would pre-heat.  Fat lot of good that all did, as you can see for yourself....

This is the result after about 3 hours of baking!!!  I don't know if the photo is quite clear enough, but we ended up with an egg that has ever so slightly congealed.  Yum.  Couldn't quite bring myself to pop it on toast, but then I am known for being a picky eater.  Slight downer, but it was fun trying.

Whilst Bretsky and I were preparing dinner, Jojo was busily cleaning up her room, and clearing out her wardrobe and bookshelves in order to get ready for the domestic makeover blitz that she and I are going to undertake these holidays.  She was constantly coming into the kitchen to ask what she/we should do with this, that or the other.  On one of these little visits she handed me a yellow manila envelope that had King Edward Memorial Hospital / PMH stamped all over it.  I knew that it must be something to do with Eliza, but couldn't remember specifically what it might be.  I opened it, trying to steel myself for......I don't know what.....sadness, laughter, longing,....I don't know, but I wasn't prepared to be looking at an envelope of her hair.  It was the hair I had saved when it all fell out just after she started chemotherapy.

I remember her hair falling out so clearly.  I remember watching for the beginning of her losing it...dreading it because she had such pretty, thick, ginger/brown hair and it would be so sad to see it fall out, and also because it was more evidence that she was a child with cancer, and I DIDN'T WANT MY CHILD TO HAVE CANCER.  The flip side of her losing her hair was that it meant the chemo was starting to work and SHE MIGHT SURVIVE.  Eliza herself was quite unconcerned about losing it.  She didn't mind having a "cute, little bald head", as she put it herself.  I didn't realise that she wasn't worried about losing it, and when it started to fall out I tried to find some small, creative, positive way to help her cope, by assisting her to carefully collect up all of her hair as it fell out.  We used some of it to construct a small bird's nest, and asked the oncology OT for some playdough.  We made small eggs, and arranged them carefully in her nest.  Eliza thought this was wonderful, and spent days proudly showing her hair nest of eggs to all of the doctors and nurses as they rotated through her room.  Funnily enough, no-one had ever undertaken this activity before, and Eliza got some great reactions, so she was very pleased with the outcome.

Anyway, back to the envelope.  I looked inside the envelope, and all of those memories of Eliza and her hair and how glorious and unruly it was, and she with it, hit me.  Again.  I didn't react too much at first...Jojo was watching me, and quite frankly I didn't know what I thought.  I walked into the study to put it away somewhere, and then it hit me, that I was actually holding a part of her.  Clutched to my chest in that envelope, were those strands of glorious, mischievous Eliza.  I clutched that envelope and cried, and cried, and went to Bretsky and cried and held and held that envelope.  It's just so freaking hard.  I miss her so much, and I just want to cuddle her....an envelope is a poor substitute.

Anyway, even though I was no longer hungry we had dinner....a whole Nannygai fish, placed on banana leaves and barbecued, served with coconut rice (with pandan leaves in the coconut milk), plain tossed salad and a sauce made of shrimp paste, chilli, lime juice, palm sugar etc.  Wonderful, wonderful flavor.  The only freaky thing was when Bretsky did a "Bear Grylls" and decided to eat one of the fish eyes.  Yes it was cooked, but I also told him that he wasn't allowed to kiss me again until he had spent the next five days vigorously brushing his teeth and flossing.  I averted my eyes during his new foray in tasting, (something I regularly do whilst watching Man vs Wild) but Jojo stared at Bretsky in horrified fascinated awe.  For the record, he declared that eyeball is not his favorite part of the fish.  Perked up just a tiny tiny tiny little.

Had a quiet evening after that, recovering from crying and watching my husband eat a fish eye.  Had coffee, watched the Friday evening murder mysteries, and painted my nails a rather fetching shade of midnight purple (thought I might let my inner gothic out just a bit)!


Lastly, I'd like to reflect a little on the fact that it's Good Friday, the day when we in this house (as Christians), and many millions of others remember that Jesus made the ultimate sacrifice by dying on the cross.  I don't intend to use this blog to preach to people or to try to convert anyone.  I don't like having religion rammed down my throat, and don't intend to do it anyone else....however.....this is my blog, and you came to me! God and I are not really on speaking terms at the moment, in fact you could say that I'm really incredibly cross with him.  Miracles apparently happened in the bible, and some believe they still happen.  All I know is that Eliza didn't get the miracle that she so desperately needed, and our lives have never been, and will never be, the same.   That said, I still totally believe in God, and feel a little softer towards him on days like this, because he and I both know, as parents, what it is like to watch our beloved child die.  I also think He must love you/me/us a whole heap more than I could, because there is no way that I would have been able to make that sort of sacrifice.  I would have pulled my child off that cross faster than than you could blink. Just something to think about is all.

It's nearly 1.00am now.  I've finally written myself sleepy.  I wish you all a quiet, peaceful, night.