53 and Grateful...

I am fifty-three years old today. Yep, it's my birthday and I am content.

To my faithful readers, sorry I haven't written on my blog for nearly a whole year, even though there are many deep stories I want to share. Some are not quite finished baking yet. But in the meantime, before I go a whole 365 days without writing, I want to share a situation status update.

Today on my 53rd birthday I feel rich, even though there's only $5.43 in my bank account (Monday is payday, we'll make it stretch.)

I am so grateful for where I am at right now...

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Reconstructing

Today, I have to write.

It’s a beautiful spring day here in Auckland. The house is peaceful, though teenagers and dogs abound. And I want to write.

Sometimes I get that urge, the need to sit down and just start pouring words out from my soul. It’s been a while. There are several deep, difficult topics I’ve been mulling over, but I’m not going to attempt those today.

Something is stirring, maybe prompted by the sunshine, and I just want to see where this goes.

The Christian faith has always loomed large in my life.

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When Christmas is Hard (Facing the Season after Loss)

Christmas was always my favourite time of the year – until I found myself facing Christmas as a sole parent in 2016.

Five years on, I can look back from a new perspective where the grief has healed and the loss no longer stings. We have settled in to our new normal, and can reminisce about our awesome Christmases as a “whole family” without an ache.

But I remember that first Christmas and my heart goes out to those of you who are facing your own first Christmas after a devastating loss.

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Another Groundhog Day in Lockdown

I know I'm better off than many others, enduring this endless Delta lockdown in Auckland.

I have a job which I can do from home.

I have a home, internet access, a car.

My children are teenagers so my work doesn't get interrupted too often.

But also: I have a job, a home, and teenagers, on my own.

I know I am half-arsing two-out-of-three of my responsibilities - because, let's be honest: I can't do it all.

I'm on top of my job, still producing quality work. But my home and my kids are not getting my best.

There's something about lockdown that saps my energy. I feel nagging guilt about all the tasks I leave undone and even more guilt about the way I am parenting in all this: barely.

We are survivors clinging to a raft afloat on a very lonely sea waiting for a glimpse of the longed-for shore - Level 2.

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On Edge

I am on edge and I need to vent the best way I know how.

I need to somehow clarify and articulate what it is that has me pent up like a pipe about to burst. In my body I feel the tension, every nerve screams.

It's this lockdown. This endless, mind-numbing, soul-sapping lockdown.

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'The dog ate my homework' and other true stories

We have been dog owners for five years now, and we cannot imagine life without our doggy boy, Clyde.

Back in 2016, while in the middle of a messy marriage breakup, I decided to get us a puppy. It was counterintuitive, and many people questioned my sanity - surely I had enough on my plate? Why add the stress of a baby dog to my to-do list?

But it was one of the best decisions I ever made. I went with my gut, and we never looked back.

Animals have such a therapeutic effect on people who are struggling with overwhelm or anxiety  - there is nothing like doggy kisses and snuggles to lift a drooping spirit. Dogs are fantastic medicine for the soul.

So if one dog is good, surely two dogs are even better?

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It turns out - I'm not over...

Today has been a super-emotional day. 

Maybe it's partly the Level Four lockdown we find ourselves back in, all of a sudden. Maybe it's the weird limbo of waiting for my Covid test results to come back. Maybe it's being stuck at home with three teenagers and two dogs, unable to leave the house until we get those test results. Maybe it's years of walking with my kids as they face down their giants, and the way lockdown threatens to derail all the hard-won progress, wrought through literal blood, sweat and tears. 

Probably it's a mix of everything, but this morning, all of a sudden I just couldn't.

This post is not about that. But that's the background to this feeling I have right now, this incredible gratitude, a fragile tenderness where tears are just below the surface.

Gratitude because - it turns out -  I'm not over.

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