Six

Sunday night....the end of the week for some, the beginning for others. Starting the lunch routine again. Starting the ironing routine again. Starting the 'get into bed it's a school night' routine again.

Two pics from my weekend. Glenn and me at Glenn's brother's 50th birthday do, and the lovely Ainsley and I at my brother in law's 50th do. Both on the same night. BIL's in Lower Plenty, Glenn's brother's in Richmond. Guess who was driving....


It ended up being a 4am morning and man am I shattered. I only had three glasses of wine the whole night (which began at 6pm when we left Glenn's for party number one, BIL's in Lower Plenty). Once again life is pointing out to me that yes, I am indeed getting older. 4am mornings are no longer my 'thang' - irrespective of the amount of alcohol consumed (or not), I am just too old to pull a 4am-er. Despite sleeping until 10:30, I have only just managed to get through the day (although am more than a little proud of myself that I also managed to do the food shopping AND visit Rebel Sport to buy the Father's Day gift from William for his Dad).

Coincidences are soooooo coincidental. Glenn and I had always known that my sister's sister-in-law (ie the sister of my sister's husband - are you following me??) - we shall call her CR - were born on the same day. That's the same day EXACTLY, not the same DATE, the same DAY. We discovered last night that they were also born at the same hospital. On the same DAY, in the same YEAR. etc etc. Oh....my....God. It was freaky enough when I first started going out with Glenn and we realised that he already knew CR because his kids went to school with her kids. That was freaky enough. But this just blew us all away.

Tonight while driving home from Glenn's house a fox ran across the road! That's right, it just scampered across the Brunswick Road on ramp to the Tulla and into a piece of vacant land. Not so special you might say, except that when my mother was dying, she told a family friend of ours that whenever this friend saw a fox (ie NOT one in a zoo or in captivity), that was mum giving a sign that she was with her. She told ME that whenever I came across a white feather, that was her giving me a sign that she was with ME. (In the ten years since she died I have, in fact, found two random white feathers; one was on the ground at a park I was walking through, the other just seemed to come from nowhere to my feet). Tonight, I'll take the fox.

Which then, of course, got me to thinking how much I miss my parents. Obviously I am OK with the fact that everyone dies etc, but sometimes it messes with me as to whether or not they can (like I tell everyone that I believe) see how happy I am now. I feel like I have strong faith that they are with me, travelling this journey on my shoulder, but then I have moments like tonight that make me think....well, CAN they? ARE they? And I do wish there was a way I could know for sure. Particularly with Dad, you know he always worried about his kids, even as they grew into adults, and I know that he was concerned about the whole 'divorce' thing in my life, as it wasn't something that he really condoned. He was more of a 'stick at it and work it out' kind of guy. (He once told me that my marraige would be more successful if I was like Mum and put lipstick on before M got home, so that I looked half decent for him!).

Thankfully, not long before he died, Dad did actually tell me that he thought I was going OK, and that possibly it was a good thing that I had left the marriage, because he could see that I was happier. I don't think he was ever really settled with the fact that I moved into another relationship so soon after my marriage fell apart, but I do wish that he could see how much Glenn has changed my life, and that five years down the track I am still with the same partner, haven't chopped and changed, that wasn't what it was about, it was about finding someone that I was compatible with, plain and simple. And I was just lucky that it was a quick find (not without its rocky patches of course, but it has all worked out in the end)

I KNOW that he thought I was making the wrong decision going into the funeral industry, he told me, and I'm really miffed that he went and died just five weeks after I started, because nearly three years down the track I am as happy as a pig in the preverbial with my job, and am doing quite well at it.

And as for the single parent of a child with a disability, Dad was ALWAYS worried about how I would cope with that, and again I feel like I am coping quite well (apart from the occassional meltdown!).

I just wish I could be positive that somewhere, somehow, Dad knows how my life has panned out, and that I am OK. It's one of the things in my life that bothers me. Maybe it's not wanting him to be worried, maybe it's selfish and wanting him to be in a position to admit that he didn't have the faith in me that he should have, that he needed to let me grow up a bit. Maybe its that I still 'need' his approval.

Either way, sometimes I get pissed off that he's not here to share in my successes.

OK, I'm bawling now, so I'm going to go to bed. I'm tired and emotional after pulling my 4am morning; that's my excuse and I'm sticking to it.

Talk tomorrow.

Janeane