Ouch

Had a marvellous morning but not so hot afternoon. Cycled north and saw Freshwater, Curl Curl, and Dee Why beaches, each one stunningly beautiful. Then continued on to Cromer Park to join the family to cheer for family friend Maddie Kilpatrick in her soccer game. Beautiful spring weather! Everything went terrific until the very end of the ride. Turning into the grocery store to buy dinner fixings, I was going too fast and not at a right angle to the entrance. The wheels slid out from under me and I landed on my left side hard, severely bruising my left elbow. Can’t rotate my arm; iced it all afternoon and if not better i’ll have it x-rayed tomorrow.

I was going to post pics of these gorgeous beaches tonight but now, typing with one hand, those pics will have to wait. On “Good Behaviour” for the next 3 weeks so I can ride in Spring Cycle on the 20th.

My education as a cyclist continues. Some lessons hurt more than others…

I did it!

Have wanted to do this for a long time now. Left Manly and rode all the way into Sydney. The 13.5 miles was a personal best distance for me, but that doesn’t begin to address the agony of climbing the hills around The Spit (a gorgeous little inner harbor).

I told my wife the most humbling part of this was pushing my bike up the 4th or 5th hill, heart pounding, legs aching. Looking to the left, an older woman on foot, walking her retriever zoomed by me like I was standing still!

But I rode across the Sydney Harbor Bridge!

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Flute Performance at Stella Alive

This is MBD and her friend Joumana getting ready to play Beethoven’s 9th and another song called “Rock to the Max, Mr. Sax.”  Last night was an arts festival called “Stella Alive” that featured all sorts of artistic performances and galleries of creations by the students.  The Year 7 Junior Band is comprised entirely of girls who had no experience with a musical instrument but nonetheless selected one and learned how to play it in just a few months.  I was up front with the Mums, taking photos.  (MBW was on the way back from Melbourne where she watched a rock concert by Pink.)  Very strange to see my little girl up there playing her flute in concert!  But I’m so proud of her….

Madelyne and Joumana 14Aug2013

Inflatable Terror

Today starts a food & wine festival in Manly, and MBW and I walked down to check it out.  For the kids there were several bounce houses like the ones we rented in Texas and Tennessee for MBD.  But I had to laugh at the detail they went into for this one.  Inflatable teeth on a T-Rex?  Ha!

T-Rex 1June2013

Vivid Sydney

To change the subject just a bit while we continue to deal with our family’s loss of our friend Barb, here are some grainy shots of Vivid Sydney from my iPhone.  I’m headed back down there Sunday afternoon for some free Nikon seminars.  Yeah, we went on a cruise last weekend to see the lights, but to be honest Vivid Sydney is best seen from land.  If you’ll pardon the grainy shots from my iPhone, this ought to give you an idea of how the city comes alive at night.  They set up sophisticated projectors and dance light patterns and themes all over structures throughout town!  The mini-light shows last for several minutes, and each structure might have three to five different shows.  This first shot is the Museum of Contemporary Art that I posted in a previous blog.

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The next shot is an historic cottage.  Yes, it’s made of stone but what you see is a complete overlay.  Turned it into an aquarium!

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Finally, look what they did to the Opera House.  SHARK!

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I’ll try to get some better shots with the Nikon this weekend. Tripod time!

Knowing too much…

Since my last post, I have had a few quick moments with my friend Sharon and we were able to share a nice but short cuppa on Friday. I don’t know whether she needed to talk or whether I needed to hear. All I know is that I deeply regret asking if the family knew anything more about when and what happened to Barb when she fell in her home. Because I am very familiar with Barb’s home and the three floors of her townhouse, Sharon was able to tell me more than someone who wasn’t familiar with her home. I have constantly and consistently regretted asking her about the accident for the last three days. I know too much now.

For those that know me, you know my mind works in different ways than most others’. I think in pictures. I think conceptually. My thoughts are always pictures flitting though my mind. It is difficult to explain but it is what it is. Anyway you would think that by the age of 45, I would know not to ask for more information than I need to process a situation. Barb fell from a ladder in her house and has died. That’s all I needed to know but out of that dreaded word curiosity with some compassion for my friend thrown in, I asked if the family knew more about what happened. I know too much.

For the last 60+ hours, if my mind was not engaged in an active thought process to accomplish something, I lived and relived Barb’s fall and subsequent actions. These are horrific thoughts that have brought on a deeper emotional devastation than I previously experienced when learning about her death. Each day is a scosh better – according to the Urban Dictionary, a scosh is a hair less than a smidgen. And that’s being generous. If I could change my thoughts, I would but facts are facts and my mind knows better. I woke up crying on Saturday morning. I knew not to linger long in bed. I got up, found MWH in the kitchen and fell into his arms in hopes his hug would drive away the thoughts. I whispered, “I know too much.” His hug brought enough comfort to get dressed and walk with him to the local coffee shop. A morning filled with a fantastic cup of coffee and two huge newspapers helped. I also went and spent time with the Kilpatrick’s to watch their youngest son Riley play soccer. The evening was also spent with Jody and Sharon on a Harbour cruise to experience the lights of the annual Vivid experience. http://www.vividsydney.com

Yesterday I was not so successful. It was laundry day for me and I allowed myself to withdraw from the family while sorting clothes, watching TV and climbing deeper and deeper in my thoughts. We are all still a little stunned here and coping the best we can. I took a break from being wife and mother – I needed it but it wasn’t the most healthy way of dealing with the situation. It is Monday morning now, I’m writing to purge the thoughts, I am back in the present and today will be a productive day. The funeral and wake for Barb is on Wednesday. It will be another difficult day to tackle but as long as I remember that with each new day, life will get a scosh better. It will. Life is a process. It will unfold how it is meant to unfold. My job is to stay in the present, not dwell in the past.

It still sucks to know too much…

The Morning Paper

It was how Barb and I first met. The memory of my first meeting with Barb will be forever burned in my memory. The reason? I have never had another experience like it. I’m not sure I ever will…this is hard to put into words…I’ve tried three times and haven’t quite found the right words to express what I saw in her face and what I felt in my soul. That’s all it took for Barb to become embedded in my soul – one chance meeting at the front gate of a 5 unit townhouse.

Here in the Northern Beaches of Australia, there is a daily paper called The Manly Daily which is delivered for free from Tuesday thru Saturday to every door in the Northern Beaches, some 170,000+ doors! When we first moved into our townhouse in Balgowlah, this was the only paper I had until I decided which Sydney newspaper to subscribe to: The Sydney Morning Herald or The Daily Telegraph…it reminded me of living in Chicago and ironically the Herald is delivered as a normal newspaper and the Telegraph comes as a “magazine newspaper.” Anyway, I walked down the outer gated corridor of the townhouse block to the front gate. We lived at the end in Unit 5 therefore I passed every unit on my way out the front gate. As soon as I made it to the front, a woman was also walking from the first unit to the front gate. For those that know me well, you know I have an inner first impression barometer that can instantly zero in on individuals I meet for the first time. I intuitively know whether they are friend or foe. Barb is the only person who has surpassed that barometer and given me instant peace in her presence. Those that know me also know that when the barometer reading is friend, I will instantly say hello with a massive smile on my face. Barb beat me to it. There was an instant glow in her eyes and a smile on her face that made me want to crawl up on her lap and stay there forever. She seemed so happy to meet me. Her smile was huge and her eyes lit up. This beautiful woman was seriously joyful about meeting me? Yep! That’s just the essence of Barb. Thus began the friendly back and forth of delivering the morning paper to the one that woke up second on any particular day. I also knew that if the paper I put by Barb’s front door was still there at lunch time that I needed to check on her. I usually did this by texting Sharon: “Where is Barb today?” Either she was at one of her children’s homes, had left early  that morning for her son’s home in Avalon or maybe an early day in court. This is the Gladys Kravitz in me that comes out wherever I live. I’m observant to a fault sometimes.

It just hit me while writing this that I wonder if we still lived in the townhouse, would I have found her sooner than the speculated 36 hours after she fell. If she fell Sunday night, I would have wondered about her on Monday when her paper was still there. I’ll never know and I won’t speculate…I won’t torture myself in that way. I definitely know that my soul might not have withstood finding Barb as one of her daughter-in-laws did on Tuesday morning.

The reason I started this post this morning was because of a chance encounter I had when I took the elevator to the lobby of our building to pick up my Manly Daily. As I was picking up the paper, the second elevator door opened and I heard, “Well, hello again!” I looked up and there was the sweetest, spriest, smallest elderly woman I had met before when retrieving the paper. I said, “Good morning! May I get you a paper?” Her response, “Sure, sure but I need SEVEN of them.” I said, “Well all-righty then!” As I counted out the papers, she grabbed her subscription paper from her box, another paper from another box and came over to me to get the 7 other papers. She said, “I have a system you know.” Indeed she did – my assumption was a hoarding system and she needed help! As I walked back towards the elevator and turned waiting for her, she had a big smile on her face she said, “You can go on up or wait for me, whichever you want!” I said, “No worries, I’ll wait for you.” She stunned me by walking over to the heap of Manly Daily newspapers to grab another one off the stack. “SERIOUSLY,” I thought, “you want MORE than 7 papers?” This is most definitely a serious hoarding problem. She quickly negated my thoughts by walking to one of the apartments on the ground floor and dropping the paper by the front door. She walked back to the elevator with her massive stack of newspapers and said to me, “She is 90 years old and with this weather (very cold and very rainy) she won’t want to walk out here to get a paper.” Thus began a change in my impression of this assumed newspaper hoarder. I used my security tag to activate the elevator buttons, pushed number 3 and asked her which one she needed. She said, “Oh, push 12. I start there and work my way down. Saturdays can be tricky!” I suspect they are since the Manly Daily can be twice it’s size on Saturdays with a multitude of store inserts. As we reach my floor this lovely woman says to me, “See you soon! Have a good day!” I promptly went into our apartment and began to sob. I missed my first “paper lady.” I just want one more hug, one more glorious smile, one more day, one more hour, and one more cuppa with my first paper lady. I miss you, Barb!

A Life Cut Way Too Short…..

It is with great sadness and absolute devastation that I share with you that my beloved “Bob” has died. You will remember Bob from one of my favourite posts (http://wp.me/p22zwx-4r) I am heartbroken and not quite sure what to do with this massive hole in my soul. I deeply loved (still do) this woman from the bottom of my heart as a daughter would love her mum. She taught me so much about being a better person in the extremely short seventeen months I was graced with her presence.

On Tuesday morning, I received a phone call from my best friend here in Australia. Sharon happens to be Barb’s daughter-in-law married to Barb’s oldest child, Jody. Jody and Sharon are MWH and my’s favourite people to spend an evening with out on the town. Jody is close to Warren’s age and Sharon is my age and an “older mum” like I was. They are the parents of the magnificent Ava. Their children range in age from 6 to 19 and there are four in total. Anyway, Sharon called me yesterday morning and I knew as soon as I said hello and heard Sharon’s voice that something horrible was wrong. Sharon told me that Barb had died and that another daughter-in-law had just found her. Evidently Barb was being typical Barb and climbing on a ladder in her stairwell to “sweep the walls” for cleaning. She fell from the ladder and down the stairs hitting her head on the travertine floor below. I don’t know specifics as this turned into a police investigation because she was by herself when it happened. I only know that this family of twenty-nine in total has lost their nucleus that held them together. Barb was your quintessential Matriarch had this been an Italian family.

I have never experienced this type of loss in my adult life. Yes, my grandmother died not long after my wedding to MWH but I had never lived in the same city as Grandmommy and I didn’t have the bond with her that I had with Barb. Please do not get me wrong, I was devastated by the loss of my grandmother and often wondered if she never traveled to Texas for my wedding, would she have lived longer. She fell not long after we left for our honeymoon and never recovered. The loss I felt yesterday I felt to the depths of my soul, from my toes all the way to my head. I truly understand what it means to wail with grief. The loss is overwhelming along with the sadness of never being able to see her again. Barb was truly a magnificent human being, a severely devoted mum, a DAILY committed grandma and a very encouraging friend.

In the past 24 hours I have researched the Barb I never knew. The public Barb that tirelessly worked for the rights of women and children who were victims of domestic violence. Barbara Kilpatrick is responsible for some of the toughest domestic violence laws in Australia. Even up till the last days of her life, she still fought for this often discarded group. As I stated in previous posts, Barb retired to take care of her grandchildren. Depending on the day of the week and even the weekends, Barb would have one grandchild to as many as five or six grandchildren in her home caring for them while their parents had work commitments or just needed time for a yoga class. I used to joke with her about getting her “daycare center” licensed or the government might come after her. Her response was always a bubbling joy of laughter that could only be seen as her immense happiness at the opportunity she had with these children. In the middle of all of her “daycare duties,” Wednesday mornings were always reserved for court. Barb continued in her retirement to travel into the central business district of Sydney to represent the many women and children who were victims of domestic violence who desperately needed an advocate on their side. They could always count on Barb. In 2003, Barbara received the Medal of the Order of Australia (OAM) for her service to the community, particularly as an advocate for women and children affected by domestic violence. If you’re interested in this highest honour, you can read about the OAM here http://www.itsanhonour.gov.au/honours/awards/medals/medal_order_australia.cfm.

I’m sure there will be more posts in the coming days and weeks from me about Barb and her incredible family. This has been cathartic for me.

Another catharsis came from my time with her family last night. This family ALWAYS gathers, in happiness and in sorrow. I knew this would be the case and decided to make two batches of my much-loved Southern Living recipe of Southwestern Soup. This is the easiest, yummiest and most comforting meal I make. It is winter here in Australia and the only thing the recipe was missing was some snow on the ground…..and Barb’s presence. The family was gathered at Sharon’s house and I texted her asking if I could bring soup, tortilla chips, sour cream and coriander (cilantro in the US) over around 5:00pm. I didn’t want to disturb the family but knew there would be a need for mass quantities of food. Sharon gave me the go ahead so MWH, MBD and I took food to the family.

A small caveat here: this is MBD’s first loss of a loved one and it has been traumatic for her. She, like me, cannot make sense of this life cut way too short. We have cried together, hugged for dear life and are mucking our way though the grief. When we arrived at Sharon’s, the street was lined with cars, the front yard was filled with children playing soccer or climbing trees, small groups of adults scattered around the lawn watching children while grieving, the front door was wide open and the house was filled with more children and more adults. This is the massive gathering I have come to love from the Kilpatrick family. These types of gatherings are difficult for MBW and MWH as they are very much one on one conversationalist and friends. These gatherings can be overwhelming to MBD which we have come to realise stems from being an only child. I’m used to families upon families from my childhood days of “multi family one bedroom lake house ownership.” The families were not related but everyone got along and you made due with what was available. You knew who the core group was but you also accepted the straggler that came with one of the families as part of that family, another member of the core group. I’m used to fitting in this way. MWH comes from large gatherings of related families, cousins, aunts, uncles, brothers, sisters all gathering outside at his parents home. All of this is to say I never felt MORE at home than at a Kilpatrick gathering and my husband and daughter never felt MORE out-of-place.

Anyway, Sharon met us at the car when we arrived with the food. I immediately grabbed her for a tight hug and some tears. I whispered in her ear this was MBW’s first loss and in the background we both heard MBW break into tears and begin apologising for those tears. Sharon then immediately went to MBD, hugged her and encouraged her to come into the house with the food. Out intention was to deposit the food, share our condolences and leave. As soon as we put the pots on the stove, Sharon turned to me and said, “Right, how about a cuppa?” The “cuppa” tea is where my relationship with this wonderful family began.

I knew this is what my soul needed but I also knew that my husband and daughter needed to go back to the comfort of our home. I had spent the day grieving by myself and I needed time to process the loss with the people who knew Barb best. I’m thankful for MWH as he continues to learn my nuances and understanding that I needed this time. He said he would take MBD home and would come back and get me whenever I wanted. I requested an hour and a half and he countered with, “If you need longer, all you need to do is text me.” In that moment, I loved him more than I ever have. He understood my need to be with this family and didn’t question my staying. He also took our daughter home and fed her and took care of her. The time with the Kilpatrick family was instrumental in my grieving. I helped out in the kitchen, swapped stories with different family members, cried on a few shoulders and willing offered my shoulder for the same.

I’ve rambled enough this morning and it’s only a little after 8:00am. As I said before, I’m sure there will be more posts about this family in the days to come. I am incredibly thankful for the short time I had with Barb and for her impact on my life. She will always hold a very special place in my soul and the feeling of loss will always be there. It will diminish as the days go by and I know will be filled with Barb’s bubbling joy of laughter thus leaving immense happiness in my soul.

Goodbye Bob – I love you and I’ll see ya on the flip side!

This is Durian

Odd name for a fruit, isn’t it?  Everyone nowadays is calling things “super fruits” or “super foods.”    They say the same thing about this strange looking fruit that is grown up in Thailand.  Available in many asian neighbourhoods around Sydney, I saw this in Burwood to the west of Sydney where I’ve been working.  You don’t want to try it.  You don’t even want to SMELL it.  The fruit has a sulphur taste to it that, after having just a little taste of it last year, took me HOURS to get the taste of rotten eggs out of my taste buds!  MBW and I learned that the cab drivers up in Phuket won’t let passengers eat this fruit in their cabs because they can’t get the smell out after they leave.   Lovely to look at, fun to touch, but cut it open and you’ll say “TOO MUCH!” 🙂

Durian

Waiting for the train

At the Circular Quay train station, travelers get an open view of the harbour while they wait!

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