Tuesday, April 13, 2010

Amazing how your friends materialise when you really need them.

Thank you Miss Sarah. You materialised, texts from 2000kms away, in my darkest hour. You, I know, are going through a hard time too. I hope I can be there for you too. x

Today, a poem of hope. Here's looking forward to the day "when the snow-drift is gone and the buttercups bloom in its place." Surely, surely, that day has to come.

I Told You, by Ella Wheeler Wilcox

I told you the winter would go, love
I told you the winter would go,
That he’d flee in shame when the south wind came,
And you smiled when I told you so.
You said the blustering fellow
Would never yield to a breeze,
That his cold, icy breath had frozen to death
The flowers, the birds and trees.

And I told you the snow would melt, love.
In the passionate glance o’ the sun;
And the leaves o’ the trees, and the flowers and bees,
Would come back again, one by one.
That the great, gray clouds would vanish,
And the sky turn tender and blue;
And the sweet birds would sing, and talk of the spring
And love, it has all come true.

I told you that sorrow would fade, love,
And you would forget half your pain;
That the sweet bird of song would waken ere long,
And sing in your bosom again;
That hope would creep out of the shadows,
And back to its nest in your heart,
And gladness would come, and find its old home,
And that sorrow at length would depart.

I told you that grief seldom killed, love,
Though the heart might seem dead for awhile.
But the world is so bright, and full of warm light
That ‘twould waken at length in its smile.
Ah, love! Was I not a true prophet?
There’s a sweet happy smile on your face;
Your sadness has flown – the snow-drift is gone
And the buttercups bloom in its place.

Monday, April 12, 2010

On resilience

I've been in a pretty dark place.

But it occurs to me that, broken heart or not, shattered dreams or not, swollen-cheeks-and-mascara-stained-pillows or not, the sun will still come up tomorrow and you still have to get your arse out of bed and get on with your life.

And maybe resilience is about continuing on, 'head bloodied but unbowed'?

Invictus, by William Ernest Henley.

Out of the night that covers me,
Black as the Pit from pole to pole,
I thank whatever gods may be
For my unconquerable soul.

In the fell clutch of circumstance
I have not winced nor cried aloud.
Under the bludgeonings of chance
My head is bloody, but unbowed.

Beyond this place of wrath and tears
Looms but the Horror of the shade,
And yet the menace of the years
Finds, and shall find, me unafraid.

It matters not how strait the gate,
How charged with punishments the scroll,
I am the master of my fate: I am the captain of my soul.


And bloody hell Sarah. I had no idea you still checked this. Thanks. I love you xx

Sunday, April 11, 2010

An important list.

So a good friend has announced that she is expecting her second child.

I have been trying to get pregnant since:
  • She met the guy she is now married to
  • She married the guy
  • She discussed with me the merits of private health insurance for having a baby and then took out said insurance
  • Waited out the year-long 'waiting time' for private health insurance before starting to try
  • Trying for three months before getting pregnant
  • Having a miscarriage
  • Wanting to comisserate with me about how hard 'our lot is' with respect to not being able to have a baby
  • Getting pregnant and then having a baby
  • Looking after baby for 15 months
  • Discussing with me that she is coming off the pill
  • Announcing today that she is 10 weeks pregnant with second baby
Now I sit in bed at 2pm, swollen face, tracksuit pants, snot on my jumper, a half eaten block of chocolate on the floor and a glass of neat vodka.

I have decided to write an honest list of the things that make my life worth living, in the hope that it will make me feel better:

  1. My cat, who does a running jump from the yard onto my front fence to greet me when she hears my car come down the street
  2. Spooning with my husband every night, although admittedly not at the moment as I have not forgiven him for his antics during an argument last weekend.
  3. Expensive red wine in Riedel glasses
  4. I would like to say my friends but that's not true at the moment as I can't bear to be around their pregnant bellies or their children, or hear any more pregnancy announcements
  5. I would like to say family, but really, don't get me started on my brother (see earlier posts. He is called Narcissus), I hate how my mother looks at my tummy every time I see her to see if it is growing, and, bloody hell, even my grandmother said to me recently that she is thankful that my cousin has six children because it 'makes up for me'
  6. Bubble wrap
  7. The smell of the ocean
  8. Cooking something really good
  9. Making someone smile
  10. Waking up on a Sunday morning and knowing the day is yours
  11. Crispy flatbreat proscuitto, cheese and mushroom toasties from Cibo
  12. Dazzling sunsets in the outback
  13. Getting up early and making tea in a billy while camping
  14. Laughing (not doing much of that lately but I remember it being nice)
  15. Freshly washed sheets
  16. The movie Dan In Real Life
  17. The book The Bronze Horseman
  18. Blueberries
  19. Hope