Tag Archives: URUNGA

SETTLING BACK IN TO THE SHACK

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Another day passed and now at home with gas heater on and Facetime with Eden.  I visited Nana B’s new place today while the kids moved a few more things for her. Saf and I gathered some odds and ends from the throwout and we all had a cup of tea. The years play strange tricks on us all . Old grievances seem rather small and foolish now.Nothing more than the day seems to matter greatly. So – we loaded and unloaded and talked and I shopped and fiddled about. Slept the afternoon as I do and ate a pizza for dinner. and now I sit some more in the chilly weather and fiddle online.

I am not wanting to think about much at all. Not wanting to understand anything. I just potter around. I follow some ritualistic behaviours.

I am not mightily glad about some of the effects of being 65 but I am mightily glad about knowing a lot more about Living than I once did.  I AM GLAD that I don’t take drugs or drink grog. Really glad because life c an be very confusing as is and I never want to be sitting in a Doctor’s Surgery in Campsie hiding from my own mother just because I have some paranoid fears developed about Italians pursuing me. Ones that could have been true.

I LIKE KNOWING MYSELF AND NOT JUDGING whether I am a failure or not.

I seem to be in INTEGRATION of some kind. Sitting letting everything find its own place. The Panic has eased greatly. I remain pain free from the Crippling that came post coma.

I am beginning to establish the things I don’t intend to do anymore and develop the ones that I do want to do. AND I AM BECOMING accustomed to the being alone.

SEEMS TO ME WE ALL NEED TO BE AWARE of what’s likely to lie before us. JUST SO THE SHOCK FACTOR IS A LITTLE MITIGATED.

I am also heartily sick of all the established scenarios of PROCESSES of life – including Grieving, and  divorce and house moves and many, many thing.s LABELS are very dangerous indeed – so it seems to me. I find myself with a vast yearning for room to move within any of THEIR LABELS.

And so – the night passes and I shall attempt to sleep before midnight. Tomorrow is the first of our LIDO SHUFFLES – a picnic at the Lido and my brother comes in the afternoon and we intend to dine at the OVH. Otherwise known as the Oceanview Hotel. My folks had their honeymoon there in 1948.

Best tuck myself in now. Do some reading. Hopefully sleep through the Night.  Good Night  mes chers amis.

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CALL SUNDAY SOMBRE AS WELL

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I haven’t left home again today I tend towards the Eremitic at the best of times and in the dodgy times – its more than a tendency. What I did have was S.C. call in and that always helps me. We sit and talk. Its a strange thing being suddenly widowed. Everything changes in a moment. And stays changed. So we sit and talk and breathe the same note unspoken.

She looks at the beach and the surf and I look at the lagoon and we yearn for the floating and the salt.

And then I weary. And come inside. Wondering at random about almost everything.

Its a strange thing being widowed all of a sudden. And then continuing. People – well – people mean well but less often do well. Maybe I will get her to come out to Bundagen for .lunch at the cafe on Tuesday. Do things we don’t normally do. I also need some winter clothes for down South.

So –  the heater is near baking me but I am warm. The bleeding leak seems to have eased and I don’t think my nose is as blocked. Having experienced an illness that escalated in a day or two to near death has spooked the beejeesus out of me. Symptoms which would once have been merely annoying are now freakouts and death looks imminent.

My Poppy is going on Survival Camp with her school tomorrow. Down there in the South where its cold and she is excited. They are sleeping in AFrames without sides and cooking and walking in through the bush.

The Little Girls went to a party today dressed as pirates. Out at Fernmount.

But I stayed home and I stayed indoors. And I slept and read and healed.

This day is therefore done clean and sober and no prescription medications.

This day is done and all is fundamentally well.

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ONE WET SUNDAY

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ONE FLY – every time I sit at my desk, ONE FLY comes a’buzzing to drive me nuts. Said Fly is here again now.

And now to start Part Two of The Silverbird. Its taken me all weekend touching up blogs. Now its Sunday Night. I am fed, washed and clad in pyjamas.I kind of skuzzed my poor girl into visiting today and I am sorry for doing that. I could have just asked her honestly. Despite that we had a good day. There is a Fairy Path out the back now and K tells me the yard won’t be as much trouble as I think. We had Eden on Facetime, Ede called me and we spoke longtime and Sandy and the Lad came to visit. I thought it was going to be a tough one to get through but it was good.

As I begin to feel more secure financially and in the Shack, the memories begin their slideshow.

The male nurse who came to take the catheter out , saying that my bladder might never work again after 3-4 weeks catheritised. Funnily it worked from the first time and has continued to do so but at the time it seemed like another nlow, another shock piled on the shit heap.

Memories of shitting the bed and being lifted onto pans horizontally and quite unable to even sit up at all. Of being propped up with the horrible pelican belt and sat on commodes that were too tall for the toilets.

Memories of coughing at home earlier in the evening before I called the ambulance and coughing up blood for half an hour. I had promised I Would call 000 if I bled for half an hour and I did. I was growing weaker as well and I didn’t want to bleed out as I had almost done in March before My Iz died.  Why did he have to die?

And then lying there in the Hospital and being asked whether I wanted to be revived if my heart stopped. What ? Thought I. WTF. I thought I just had the flu and a wee bit of blood.

I am gravely traumatised, so I am. And if I skuz a little sometimes, its because I am so hurt and so frightened.

AND THE DAYS like today are part of the life rafts I cling to. My Family and my Friends and Home. Because it seems to me a times that I am likely to descend into a new form of Whirling Madness – sucked into a Vortex of Shockingness.

So I ease back into Sunday. Ramble through some of the Sorrowing and some of the Horrors and then I settle down for the night. Blessedly, the cramps have been gone for a week. The Bleeding has been gone for 3 months and a glimmer of Hope flickers.

I woke from the Dreaming, paralysed. That’s an experience in itself let alone being told that 3 weeks have passed.

I thought there would be all manner of official help which would put the fractured woman back together but it wasn’t long before I realised that it wasn’t going to happen. When I lay in those hospital beds willing my arms to reach up for the hanging grip to try to pull myself up just a little, I knew I had best figure out how to do the repair job. Just didn’t think Help would be quite so thin on the ground.

Any more troubling you tonight, Lynne ?

I am fortunate to have 27 years of Recovery which means 27 years of self-examination , change, maturation and rehabilitative processes.

One thing I was told early on by Val was to not try to take all the rubbish out at once. Just a small bag at a time as the garbage came up.

And that’s what I do. I cry when the tears come. I think the thoughts that arise. I get each day’s garbage out one way or another and then I live the day CLEAN.

The last bit I know of tonight is the missing of the beloved. The loss of the one to whom I belonged. Unquestioningly. That is a lonesome thing. And I still wish I had been with him in case he was hurting or frightened.

Last night I dreamed as if Mum and Dad were still alive here in Urunga and it was a sweet night’s dreaming.

Today we walked the Fairy Path. Izzy had promied them a Fairy Garden and it was well underway and I intend to make them one right here. We will need a little fountain and garden figures and maybe an Izzy gnome and tinkling things in the trees. Saf loves the cumqat tree and the Fairy Path reminds me of Tumbulgum Historical Cemetery. Where I saw the shiny black bird after Mum died. I saw a shiny black bird out there today.

Good Night for now. I am growing weary. I have apologised to my Girl. I was so glad to have big hugs and kisses.

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