BLURRY

I suppose my younger years are mostly a blur, specifically the time between the end of my last blog, and the beginning of this one. 

Who can truly remember what happened in their life and how they felt at 4 years old anyway? 

I will admit I can’t pin point the exact details of events, but the important times remain so present in my mind as they are constantly retold and revisited through family conversations it’s as if I’ve been able to draw a picture in my mind of what happened exactly. Maybe that’s how I’m able to write about it now, or maybe it is exactly how it happened. But will I ever know? Probably not. All I know now is that I’ve managed to recreate it in my mind in a way that is so real, I guess that’s all that matters. 

It’s important for this blog that I explain this blur as what I remember to be a happy time, where I felt the most secure - I hope it can provide a kind of foundation for the stories to come. 

It was maybe 2001, I was 5 years old and looking back life was great. I did ballèt, Little Athletics, swimming and horse riding. Being an only child I felt so spoilt and it was like I always the topic of conversation. Mum had all the time in the world for me and my activities and always pushed me to be involved. I always take comfort in remembering the little things - like Mum brushing my hair and my demands to tie it tightly into a ‘high pony tail’! It had to be perfect for school and only she could do my hair the way I liked it for ballèt. I could never be late, and I almost never missed a day of primary school. 

Life flew by and soon enough I was faced with Mum in a new relationship. The first since my Dad and the first of many firsts to follow. I was still so young but I was old enough to interpret the idea of love and the new father figure that was appearing in right front of me. 

It all seemed like smooth sailing, and looking back on the good times they were some of the best ever in my entire childhood. He had a son, so I got a brother - life wasn’t so lonely anymore. We moved out to his parents place on some land. I was lucky enough to then inherit his parents as my Grandma and Grandpa, and that’s who they still are to this day. Love them to bits. All of a sudden my life was filled with so much more love and so many more things to do. Swimming in the dam, feeding animals, rabbit hunting and motorbike riding. There was always the standard sibling rivalry between us as he was the biological child and me, the step child. 

Given I only seen my Dad every second weekend, if that, I became so familiar with my step Dad and we seemed to get along well. My step brother being in the same boat as me, visiting his Dad every second weekend and living primarily with his Mum. 

I always had more fun at home with Mum which contributed to me wanting to visit Dad less and less. The weekend seemed so long when I was there. It was just us two. Sometimes I begged Mum to not make me go, to say I had a birthday or something. It caused arguments and friction between Dad and Mum’s partner. Naturally they began to dislike each other as you can imagine. Typical males on the opposite sides of someone else’s life. I was stuck a little stuck. 

I think because of this, Dad fought to see me less and in turn I stopped asking to go and stay with him. It was exhausting for all of us. Sad, but exhausting. Visiting Dad every second weekend quickly turned into seeing him every few months, and sometimes only for the day. Writing this now is a little upsetting, but as a child at the time all the fun things overshadowed anything else and what I now know are the more important things in life.*My relationship with my Dad comes and goes in waves and there are definitely good times to be told later. 

I became pretty switched on from this age onward based on the adult arguments and drama I was subjected to, and the general politics that comes with separated parents. Adult behaviour became predictable and I was able to change my actions and words to get the answers I wanted. 

There is never a dull moment in my family to this day but back then was an entire different world. 

In 2002, Mum fell pregnant again. I remember being so confident this was the one, and I would have a little brother or sister of my own. Someone to fly with me through life and share my secrets with. 

I was now old enough to truly recall the excitement. I could feel the positive energy that this time it would be okay, we will have our baby and they won’t be called away. 

Mum went to hospital one day. It was way too soon. I remember standing outside of the room at the hospital feeling so nervous, I’m not sure if I knew what happened yet. I walked in to see Mum. The tears running down her face, holding our baby Grace who already grew her wings and flew away. 

Grace was ever so tiny, I don’t think I had a doll smaller than her at the time. Little feet, little fingers, little ears and nose. I remember her coffin resting in the lounge room at home, days later. The funeral was held at the Ballan cemetery where she would lay together with baby James and baby Demi.

We visit our babies on their birthday’s and remember them everyday. Life is often imagined as if they were here and what may have happened differently had we all been together. 

Mum was soon married in 2003, and we soon moved back to Ballan where they bought a house to slowly renovate and make into a home. 

From family holidays to Queensland, a loving home feeling completely secure as a child, the bright light of a normal childhood dimmed, soon turned to complete darkness. 

It’s as if as soon as we left his family home, the lid was lifted and out crawled an overpowering awful that still keeps me up at night.

Stay tuned x