Has heaven gotten a little funnier this week? Robin Williams left us, so if you run into him say hi. I wonder if famous people get to mix with ordinary folk once they get to heaven? These are the questions I ponder now.
I had another dream. This time you were mucking around with the kids in the lounge room. Then for some reason I got cross with you and we started arguing. Then I realised I was fighting with a dead man. I said “what are you doing here?” You thought I was mad. “What do you mean, I live here!”. “No you don’t, you are dead.” “Don’t be ridiculous” you said, and we proceeded to argue over whether you were dead or not.
Other people have really sweet dreams about the people they have lost. We however manage to disagree even in DREAMS. Clearly, I have some unresolved anger issues, and I think you are a little confused about the state you have found yourself in. I promise you’ve gone over to the other side, we had a funeral and everything. Remember when you were going in for heart operation and I said “whatever you do, don’t head towards the light”. Turns out this time not only did you head for the light, you went right bloody through it.
By the way, I hope they have a good supply of bread, tomatoes and milk up there beyond the light. Turns out you ate and drank a hell of a lot of that stuff when you were alive. I’ve got bread going mouldy, tomatoes turning to compost in the vegetable drawer and milk gone off every week since you died. When I run out the girls complain, but seriously they eat half a loaf, drink a quarter of a bottle and maybe consume one tomato in a salad occasionally! In fact I’m surprised by how little milk they actually drink, now I’m worried I’ve set them up for a life of Osteoporosis because while I thought they were getting an adequate supply of calcium it was actually their father guzzling all the milk.
I’ve got parent/teacher interviews next week, I don’t want to go. They’ll want to talk about homework, marks, HSC and frankly I just want to say, “look we are just concentrating on existing at the moment, anything else achieved is a miracle, and I’m pretty sure ten years down the track nobody is going to remember if Year 8 english homework was completed, or the Year 11 visual art worksheet was handed in on time”.
We’re all wrapped up in little balls of guilt here at the moment, each of us wishing we had done something different that weekend. I am lecturing the girls on how you were a grown-up and made your own decisions and we can’t be responsible for where your fished, or the vagaries of the sea, but deep down we all believe we could have changed the outcome. Which really sucks. We’re looking at years of therapy ahead. Thanks for that. (Yes I know anger issues, I’ll put it on the list of discussion points for the next counselling session).
Actually, I’m not that angry with you, but I’m angry about the effect this has had on the girls. My personality is pretty solidly formed by now. They, however, are right at the stage of trying to identify who they are and this has blindsided them. Their world is no longer secure, they are more fearful.
I have a confession to make, I could possibly have forgotten to water the plants (I’ve been BUSY alright). We may have lost some of them. Remember when you boys went away to sea – I killed the plants, Bron ended up with fish floating at the top of the tank and Kylee lost the budgie in a traumatic encounter with a crow? You fellas came home and wondered if it was ever going to be safe to have kids and leave them in our care. Well the good news is I’ve kept the children alive, but the bonsai has really carked it, (yes I know it was probably really old and had survived such a lot, but it turns out it couldn’t survive me).
I was trying to give up writing the letters to you, it must be getting boring for everyone now. Then Robin Williams died, and death and grief where the only topics I could think about again.
It’s like you left me mid-sentence, I hadn’t finished talking and then you just disappeared. There was so much more I had to say.
Clearly though I’m a determined woman and I’m not going to let a little thing like you dying stop me from having the last word.
Till next time, nanoo nanoo.