Lost in thought

Lost in thought.

The Kookaburras

Arriving home wrestling with the usual tangle of door keys, I slide miss 3 down to the floor on my left hip, mail spilling out of my grip and ensuring it scatters across the floor of the entryway. Even with this annoyance I felt such relief, relief that I hadn't felt in what seemed like an age. This relief highlighted the dull ache between my shoulder blades, my body finally giving away it's addiction to a steady flow of adrenaline, man I needed a massage, the ache in my back was now even more pronounced, brought on by a year of unrelenting stress.

Pain is a subsequent result of relief, it does that, it exposes what you have decided not to feel, what you've compressed, stored and hidden away, but eventually what is stashed away rears its ugly head. It's amazing what our bodies can put up with and all because of what you haven't given yourself. Either it be time, a decent meal or a semblance of self care.

I walk into the kitchen and put the kettle on, I don't really want tea, I just need to put it on, and deflect this unknown, push away the worry and above all, the last 24 hours. The kettle is such a great tool, you do this when entertaining a new guest and you're unsure of what to say or how to feel. So you make a tea, it protects you somehow, a barrier to the awkward silences, a simple sip of tea can allow the flow of ideas and helps you tap into the part of your brain shifting from panicked thoughts to engage in the endless nothing and everything we stash away so we can comment uselessly about the weather, politics or the cost of fuel and how hard everything seems nowadays. All just so you don't notice the awkward moments between two strangers.

I make myself a cuppa and without someone to distract me I notice for the first time the feeling of lightness around me, it now fills the house, it's that feeling when someone isn't home and the house's energy is lighter, it's the tangible physical aura of someone who is meant to be there, the air is thick with them not being there, this lightness is something I was craving for so long but it also engages me, and tells me what I don't want to face as time goes on. This loss of energy, I know will become emptiness, the one from the lack of someone's thereness. I dread that now, I take a sip of my tea and feel the warmth from the liquid soothing me as I swallow.

She loved tea, at least 5 a day. She was always grumpy before her first cuppa in the morning, and she only bought 2nd hand clothes, spent hours poking around little op shops and the like, she liked to hang all her clothes on the line too, we had a dryer, but she never used it, she enjoyed the meditative rhythm from the work instead, I never understood why, I hated the clothes line, but she liked the process of it I guess, the doing of it, right till the end, even crippled from the cancer she wanted to still do the fucking washing her way, I couldn't give a damm about the washing , but it was just her thing, we all have our things, these little pieces of us, our habits and rituals that stack together and make up our strengths our weaknesses our personalities. We think we are so uniquely designed and worry that all these weird quirks if gone will replace us with someone else, but really these are the happy place we convince ourselves we need, they are in all of us, we all are blessed with these painfully maddening habits we think make us, holding them to our hearts we use them to be lovable or even unlovable, we hold onto this with all our might, they somehow define us, and without them are nothing.

When our person, the perfect fitting shirt, our great love, our comfortable pants comes into our life and embraces all this and loves us! We still stupidly hold onto them and they without judgement stay. Someone is always truly meant for us. I truly believe that. So we are very lucky to find our one, our true soul mate. The person who gets us, who is ok with all of it, the good, the bad and the downright shitfull mess because of our unresolved childhood trauma.

I sip my tea again after what felt like ages trapped in this thought. Blegh mildly warm tea. I hate tepid tea. How long was I sitting here?

"Daddy when is mummy home" pipes in miss 3. I had almost forgotten she was here, I looked around and saw the mess, she was now done with the collection of her new toys now strewn all over the floor. These plastic useless collections of bits are a last minute gift from her Aunt. We give kids toys instead of tea or coffee so we don't have to explain concepts we ourselves struggle to explore, all too simply to hide more awkward moments.

I pick her up sitting her on my lap, tears welling in my eyes, I gently kiss her little head, she stares at me as I try to smile, only to give that fake smile that exposes our pain, the one that sits in our eyes, the one that resides on all of the lines of our face, the one that not even our eyes can hide , no one ever believes the lie behind that smile, I swallow hard breathing in and simply say "Oh honey mummy isn't coming home"

"Is she with Nanny?" She asked

"No baby, Nanny is with your sister and brother, they will be here soon." The overwhelming feeling of grief, hits me encompassing my being, that nauseating, painful, deep felt awfulness, I try to stop the flood but I can't hold it anymore, I start to sob, in that ugly undignified way.

"Why are you crying daddy?" She asks in the sweetest little voice you're ever going to hear.

I try to shake it away and squeeze this tiny gift of life and unconditional love, in the hope this love, this hug, this little being will heal me here, and now. She squirms in my arms, sliding away a little so she can free herself and points over my shoulder "Look, Daddy Kookas!" I turn to look and see two proud iconic large birds sitting not 10 feet from the glass door. "They always made Mummy smile," she says .

She then unexpectedly wraps her arms around my neck squashing hard, almost choking me now, her cheek squelching against mine in that forever hug, that kids do so they just might meld into you, the hug so tight, that they just might become one with you, so tight it hurts, knowing now it's the hug that heals your adult wounds, the hug that makes everything in life feel better.

Kids are so brilliant at just knowing what is needed. I snort, gulp and choke up my tears and wipe them away from my eyes. Looking at this beautiful little angel, I wonder why I am so blessed and how did I get so lucky?

The kookaburras burst into laughter filling the air with their unique call, it echoes around the yard and into the house filling it with their laughter. Little Miss now looks directly into my eyes, moulding my face with her tiny hands, "See it's ok daddy, no need to cry," she pokes her fingers around my face "Eww your teeth are all funny, Can I watch TV?"

" Haha of course baby, would you like a drink?"

"Yes Peeze '' she squeaks.

"Ahh kids" Now I really smile the smile given to you, from unconditional love so that it fills your entire cup, and makes even this pain feel good, and amazingly makes all this mess feel all ok.

She at 3 is just like her beautiful mum. I look at the Kookaburras, thinking "You gave her that, that gift is from you, you always knew how to make us all feel ok, she has it too" I never felt so good and bad my entire life in that single moment. It was in that brief connection with these magnificent birds that I felt as though she is now part of them, free from the constraints of our lives, now one with her brood of familiars, part of a new group of earthbound watchers, showing her spirit that we will be ok someday.

The laughter of these two kookaburras stays with me, bringing even more tears of joy. "So baby what are we watching today?"

12 years on, The Kookaburras return, they are always there watching over us when there is a birthday, an anniversary or there is something troubling each of us. Their laughter rings out on the day of her death without fail every year. They bring me joy and tears, we all know it's her, we all know she is watching us all grow, seeing how we struggle and learn, fail, hurt and fall in love. The laughter of the Kookaburras will always remind me of that day. Guiding and reminding me to laugh and remember what's important in my own remaining years here.