sweet dreams

Dear Olive,
I really don't know what to say here. Because how could I use mere words to describe the loss of someones child? With heavy hearts, we travelled up to the central coast to go to Banjo's 'life party' last week. Watching Mic and Jilly and the kids carry in Banjo in his 'time machine' was one of the most unbearably heartbreaking things I've ever seen. Somehow, though, they have met this terrible tragedy with grace and dignity, which has been so inspiring to everyone around them. They've chosen to focus on love, and I hope they feel the outpouring of it that is coming to them from so many. It was such a present force in the room that day; amidst all the tears, there was such love. I'll be holding them all in my hearts for a long time to come. 
Without a second thought, they donated Banj's organs, which I thought was a magnificent and courageous decision. The tragic loss of Banjo then meant the gift of life to five young kids. If you're in Australia, and you would like to be an organ donor, the best thing you can do is register your wishes on the The Donor Register so in the event of an accident, your family can feel secure that their decision was also yours.
Sweet dreams, Banj. Live on in happiness.

twelve

Dear Olive,
It is twelve years yesterday since my Mum died. It's a long time. It was before you or Clancy were born; before I met Shane; before I worked in film; before, in a sense, I really became an adult. A lifetime ago. And (sadly) most of the time it feels like a lifetime ago. But then there are other times, the memory will be so clear, the pain and love so sharp, that it could have been only days.

I don't know if I believe in an afterlife; I tend to think we're all just matter - us, nature, and the universe. One and the same. But on occasion, and only ever by the sea, the clouds have parted and the light has shone through, and I thought I could feel her with me.

Ten

Dear Olive,
It's been ten years now, without my Mum. I can't really put into words exactly what this means, or feels. But in ten years, she's missed out on a lot. (As have we, missed out on her.) I don't know if she is, but I hope she's out there somewhere, watching sometimes. Smiling.

Mother's Day

Dear Olive,
Every year, on mothers day (and a few other special dates), my Dad sends an email to Hayes, Anika and I. He tells us it was Mums dying wish that he never let us forget how much she loved us. Yesterday he wrote ...
I just wanted to remind you what a truly special Mum you had. I know you don't need reminding but I promised Rose that I would never let you forget how much she loved you. We were all so lucky to have her. She would be proud of each of you. I know you still miss her.
Every year, it makes me cry, and yesterday was no exception.
(Thanks Dad xxxx.)

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Dear Olive,
You were so happy last night. Crazy, screaming, beside yourself hyper happy. I said to Shane within your earshot she's so happy! I think it's because we've both been home all day. You said I is happy to see Daddy and gave him an enormous cuddle. Heart meltingly sweet stuff under normal circumstances. But delivered on the day Shane lost his Dad? Damn near broke my heart. What perceptive little fellows you kids are.

Life and Love and Baby Animals

Dear Olive,
Work has gone crazy. Three days turned into four, then five, then seven. What was I saying in a letter last week, that it was all too hard and I was going to give it away? Well it seems to be working itself out just fine. You're being amazing with the shuffling around to different people and I'm loving the work. So, everyone's happy. Happy, but knackered. Happily knackered? We dragged our happily knackered selves over to the baby petting zoo this morning. You loved it.
But mostly, I'm consumed with thoughts of my lovely friend who lost her husband yesterday. I can only imagine how deep the devastation of his loss is for their beautiful family. I'm sending over all of my love. It's frightening to fully realise the fragility of life. It's so precious. We need to live every moment because we never know when it's going to end.