Unreal

In the past I’ve read about people who have found themselves in my position. Mothers who have lost their husband/partner, whether it be suddenly, unexpectedly, after a long illness; it’s irrelevant. They have been left to raise the kids on their own* and manage life without their beloved.

My heart has ached for these women; I have been brought to tears thinking about how their babies would no longer have their Dadda around; and I have struggled to understand in any way how they must be feeling after losing the love of their life.

Now that I have found myself in that very circumstance, all I can tell you is that it feels nothing like I could have imagined. It’s unreal. And not in the denial sense of the word. Not in a way that I can’t accept it. Just in the way that I never could have imagined. It’s a whole new world for us and it feels so incredibly strange.

My heart still aches for my kids and my guts still feel ill a lot of the time. I feel so sad that my kids won’t have Frith around to teach them the million things he should have. I’m devastated that our “til death do us part” was only 10 years of marriage. I cry for the unfairness that we won’t get to go on the crazy adventures we planned. I feel for  the interns and medical students and colleagues who respected Frith so deeply, and all that knowledge that won’t be taught by someone who was a born teacher. I feel sick at the thought of his parents losing a son; his siblings losing a brother, his friends losing a fantastic mate, and the world losing a damn splendid and unique human being.

I’ve had so many offers of help over the last 23 days, and it’s hard to think of things that people can “do” for me. But I’ve just thought of something. So here it is: Do something unique. Do something in a different way to everyone else. Do something outrageous. Do something unexpected. Do something kind. Teach someone something. Look up a crazy fact to bring up at your next dinner party. Download a full 20 minute episode of Adam Ruins Everything and tell me which one you watched (we’ve seen most of them). Then tell someone else about it. Buy something off Gumtree or at a garage sale or op shop instead of buying it new.

I’m not going to tell you cliches like “live every day like it’s your last” or ” you just never know when your life might change so appreciate every moment.” It’s unrealistic to live that way. But do something every week or month or year that’s just a bit different; see the world with Frith-coloured-lenses and try something new. He never did anything because “everybody else does it that way.” In fact he avoided doing what everyone else did. So branch out from the norm and let me know how you go.

One last thing. Listen to “Wake Me Up” by Avicii (sorry no link), listen to the words and think of Frith. He may not have been here for a long time but my goodness it was a good time.

Who needs an expensive baby carrier when a chesty Bonds will do? Just a suggestion 🙂

*I know I’m not even close to being “on my own” but in this context I mean as the sole parent.

38 today

This is not exactly how I planned to celebrate my birthday this year. Not even close. But with these four rascals vying for a spot on my lap, and being surrounded by my cousins and family, it wasn’t bad at all. Thank you everyone. This was the first of many firsts without Frith. And it was made easier with your love and support.

I’m heading to Rocky first thing tomorrow morning until Saturday evening. I feel that reality is about to hit. I can’t prepare myself for it other than getting my village ready up there to catch me when I fall. And what a village it is. Thank God I have them. See you soon guys. It’s going to be rough xxx

Our new normal

Life is currently very strange. My family and friends are nearby and for that I am grateful.

The kids and I have moved in with my parents at Woody Point for the time being. And not that it’s a bad thing, far from it, but it was not part of any kind of plan we ever had. The kids are keeping things “normal” for me and for that I am grateful.

We set up the kids bunk beds and toy cubes and they are surrounded by familiar things. We have the downstairs area of Mum and Dad’s to make our own, and for that I am grateful.

I’m feeling very conflicted at the moment. The sadness and fear and strangeness that washes over me regularly can be suffocating, but I’m not quite ready to deal with my new reality so I’ve been acknowledging, but also pushing those feelings aside. For now. In time and in space I will deal with things.

I’m heading to Rockhampton on Friday morning and staying for the night and most of Saturday. I want to have a chance to thank everyone up there for their love and support. I imagine it will be quite confronting as I haven’t been back there since this all happened and have almost separated myself from the events up there, in the safety of my family and friends down here.

I know I have so many wonderful friends to lean on up there, and for that I am grateful. In the midst of this tragedy, everyone has opened their arms and hearts and homes to our families and I want to say thank you. I’m still here. I’ll still be writing. Thank you for reading.

10 things on the 10th

10 things I miss about Frith

1. His smile. It’s the first thing anyone ever noticed about him. That and his awesome dreads.

2. His laugh. It was sometimes a high pitched girly giggle. It was all him.

3. Watching him give the kids a hug.

4. Being able to text him when something stupid and funny happens.

5. Being able to make a face at him when something stupid or funny happens.

6. Being able to ask him why my phone is playing up knowing he could fix it.

7. His smell. I wish I could breathe it in right now.

8. His inappropriateness. Yes even that.

9. His kisses. Knowing I will never kiss him again is almost too much to bear right now.

10. Just him.

I love you honey. I’ll never again hold you in my arms but I will always hold you in my heart ❤

Quinny and I yesterday with one of his photos xxx

What I know to be true

Frith fiercely loved me. He saw things in me that I had trouble seeing in myself, but he always showed his love to me and I always felt completely safe with him by my side. He was besotted with and adored his children like crazy. He taught them new things every day and just wanted to make them happy.

Frith cherished his family, and even though he sometimes gave his siblings a hard time, he had nothing but admiration for them. He was the best uncle to his nieces and nephew and a wonderful, cheeky son to his amazing parents.

Frith admired his colleagues and spoke of his mentors with such praise. He made friends easily, and held a select few close to his heart. Those select few have turned into a few more over that last 10 years.

Frith was such a unique person with so many different hobbies and interests. He could have conversations with anyone from anywhere, and they would immediately warm to him. It’s one of the many things that made him a great doctor, as well as just a great person.

Once you met Frith, you would always remember him; something about him. Maybe his dreads, maybe his smile, maybe his sharp dressing or shiny boots, maybe his ability to engage with your kid with a high-five and snap of the fingers.

I know he loved to live life. But I also know he often felt like there was more. He wanted more, but he didn’t know what it was or how to get it. It might surprise you to know that behind his charismatic flair, happiness often eluded him, and that would make him feel sad. He seemed to have it all, but his deep thinking mind often drove him into existential woe, especially after a big night.

I know many of you are wondering about the circumstances surrounding his death, and I don’t want it to be taboo. I don’t know all the details; no one does, and we never will.

What I know to be true is that Frith took his own life. Something got the better of him and in a moment of drunken madness, he made a decision.

It’s hard not to speculate about this and that. It’s hard not to ask the “why” and “how did this happen” questions. It’s hard for us not to wonder if we could have done something. Even though he was never diagnosed, I believe Frith suffered from some depression but I thought that since we talked so often and openly about everything, that was enough.

What I know to be true is that he loved with great passion. He genuinely cared for people and was always there for a beer and a chat. This is how we will remember him.

Happy new year!

The last post of 2017. Here it is folks.

I actually cracked the 250 posts a couple of days ago. Yay me!

It’s going to be a short one because I don’t want to be anti social. I’m sitting with my parents on their deck with a couple they have known for 35 years. They are family.

This is where it’s at people. Here’s to 2018!

The renting headache

After a crazy 18 months of renovating and watching all our time and money get poured into our house, Hubs and I were really looking forward to renting again.

After spending the last 6 hours (on and off) filling out an online rental application for a house we haven’t even looked at yet, I’m starting to wonder.

I had to provide “professional references” from some kind of previous employment. I had to take photos of ID to send. I had to find out phone numbers and addresses of people and places from the last 5 years.

The market is brutal! Maybe owning a house isn’t so bad after all.

Watch this space….