Wakey wakey, rise'n'shine

 

Do you see that?  Oh hallelujah… spring has sprung!  There are signs everywhere and I can't begin to tell you how happy that makes me.  Maybe it's relief more than happiness... I'm not sure, I just know that this past month has been long, cold and hard and I'm not the only one around my parts who has felt a little fed up by it all.  Finally I feel like I'm managing to soak some warmth deep into my bones and it feels oh so good.  So long to you, August, and Hellooo sweet September.

You may have caught that miss-post I accidentally published the other week or maybe not (?) since I whipped it away quick smart because it was nowhere near complete and I wasn't ready to share what it was all about.  Well I am now.  I like to wait until I’m through the wobbly patches before sharing them here because not only is it easier to read about the nitty-gritty when the outcome is already okay, but it gives me the opportunity to offer a fuller, more complete picture.  A story within the story, or a packaged segment of the broader journey.  It also gives me the freedom to fall apart, process, gather and grow, allowing a deeper and stronger perspective and not just a dish full of doom and gloom.

Let me begin by mentioning just a little of what August held and I'll apologise once more for clicking the wrong button late that Friday night many days ago... I still can't work out how I muddled "SAVE" with "SAVE & PUBLISH” but anyway, between that and Feedburner deciding to send out the odd random old post, things have been a little bit wacky in this humble little space.  But, let’s get back to August...

In that miss-post I began by describing my feeling as one of being “shackled” and touched on the struggle of being “lost in a sea of emotions”.  Well, that all sounds very melodramatic but during the brunt of it, I really felt like that.  Things got the better of me and I got dragged down.  Maybe only for a few days, but still, in those few days it meant I managed to pull together bowls of muesli for dinner one night (the kids thought that was pretty fantastic since packaged cereal is a very rare thing in our house - it was a good type of muesli though), Indian take away the next and I think the next night was a quiche from the freezer served with my favourite winter salad.  That's when I knew I was on the way back, albeit slowly,  the day I was able to think clearly enough to piece together something fresh.  Ah, 'tis an interesting road this one, and is often filled with many a rock and pothole.  But spring is here and rocks and potholes don't feel so harsh when the sun is shining!

My favourite winter salad... fennel, orange, chickweed (foraged from the overgrown and neglected backyard and packed with nutritional goodness!), cucumber and poppyseeds.  Drizzled with lemon myrtle dressing and I gotta say, it's the bomb!

There is of course many reasons for these spirals when they occur and the triggers differ every time.  As difficult as each turn is, each one is an important part of this process.  It’s not fun at the time but the free falling of tears and the shift that each one presents gets me one small step closer to something else that is good.  Each one offers a level of release and healing.  

So, a few weeks ago, the time came for me to talk directly with the MCIO (Major Crash Investigations Officer) who has been overseeing the formalities surrounding Tuck's accident.  Let’s call her Di-Ann for that is her name and MCIO seems way too formal given the nature of my conversations with her.  Tuck’s motorcycle was ready to be released from the police compound at which it has been housed all this time and they needed for me to undertake the next steps.  What was it to be…?  An insurance claim, the collection of his bike by a family member or friend, or the disposal?  Only I could make the decision.  The investigation, the reports, the paperwork, it's all done and all was a routine procedure, nothing complicated or unique.  Except I have yet to receive his official Death Certificate but that could take another four months according to the Coroner and the Register for Births, Deaths and Marriages.  I won’t dig into all the who, whats and why, but to cut a very long story short, I decided after many phone calls, emails, tears and emotional turns that to wipe my hands clean was the only thing I could do.  A final email was sent to give my full authorisation to SAPOL (South Australian Police) to dispose of the vehicle.  It was a pivotal moment and one I’m not sure I’ll forget any time soon.  During my final conversation with the Di-Ann when she talked of option number three (disposal), I am completely convinced that Tuck was right there propping me up.  I know how this may sound to some of you, but if you know me or have been joining me in this space for long enough, then you’ll know that I’m pretty open minded about this sort of thing.  I am certain he made that decision for me because he knew that the alternatives required more than I wished to give - emotionally, that is.  From that moment I felt relief and a sense of closure.  I no longer had to give a piece of myself to those legalities.  It was done and it was the right choice.  Tuck knew it and I knew it.

So you see, those last days of winter were filled with that, and yes, it ripped open my raw wound and left me drowning in vulnerability, but ’tis all good.  I’m okay and we're okay.  In fact, I think I’m better than okay because it’s another wave behind me and let’s not forget…

Spring is here!!!!  Happy Fall to all you Northern folk too xo