A Different Christmas Perspective

It was Christmas – full of tinsel, and baubles and fake-bearded Santas. It is, of course, also a time full of other, more grown up concerns but when your 5 years old the sparkle and the whispered wishes for presents is all that you notice. You dont notice the petty arguments about whose family you’ll be spending Christmas lunch with, nor do you notice the bank account rapidly emptying as those sought after presents are paid for and hidden away in the back of the wardrobe.  You only see the happy, pretty, most-wonderful-time-of-the-year things.

 
However, even though your 5 years old, its hard not to see the panic in your fathers face, or to not recognise it your mothers voice. You cant understand why they’ve left you and your brother at Nanny’s, and they’ve sped off down the street with your other brother strapped tightly into the back seat of the car. Its worse when they dont come back by dinner, and Nanny gets off the phone to tell you “ You’re a lucky duck – you get to have a sleep over! “ It upsets you, partly because Mummy and Daddy and Eli havent come back yet, but also – how is Santa going to find you if you arent in your own bed? Where will he leave the presents? For you, and 4 year old Josh, and for Eli? You arent to know that Eli wont be getting any presents this year, nor any other year after that, and that Christmas, though it will always be full of tinsel and baubles and fake-bearded Santas, will now always be tinged with sadness.


 You dont know all that when your 5 years old – ignorance, as its said, is such bliss. But naive as 5 year olds are, its hard to be ignorant when your parents come home without your baby brother, and the only thing in abundance that Christmas is hot, silent, tears....

Hypothetically Speaking....

So - yesterday would have been my brother Eli's 21st birthday. We had some birthday drinks and a cake for him. My neice H insisted on singing " Happy Birthday ", which kind of made my mum tear up a bit. Thats me and him, right there.

Just imagine - the child in that photo with me would have been 21 yesterday, had he lived past the age he is in that photo. You'll forgive me if this is kind of morbid, but my head spins thinking what my life would have been like if Eli was still around. First of all, my sister wouldnt exist, at least not in the capacity she does now. My sister was born 10 months after my brothers death ( draw your own conclusion there... ) so maybe she would never have been born at all. Secondly, i'd have two brothers - Good Lord Almighty, one has been enough! What if i was the only girl in the house ? I suppose i would have been a way better wrestler if i'd grown up with two brothers. I mean i totally kick arse now, but imagine if i'd had to beat two instead of one? Oh, and i probably wouldnt have half the emotional issues i have now - the beginning of my childhood wouldnt have been as melancholy, thats for sure.

Surely i'm not the only one who ponders these hypotheticals. Of course, there are those people who prefer to say " But it happened, so why bother with the " what ifs " ? Well, i like to bother with the what ifs because its fun. Maybe not when your ponderings deaths, or divorces or dramas... but what about the small stuff, the stuff that seemed somewhat trivial at the time? The what ifs on those ones are good for daydreaming about on lazy Sundays - or, in my case, filling the space between thinking your tired and actually getting to sleep ( Insomniatic Musings, remember ? yes, it actually means something ). Take these for example ( bearing in mind that each situation is considered seperately to the next )......

What if i had gone to the class for gifted children ?

First off, Lauren i would probably still be best friends. I'd also have been better friends with some of the other girls who were in that class and, like them, i'd probably constantly travelling the world. I dont know how they do it, but 3 of the 4 girls who came to my high school out of that gifted class are ALWAYS overseas ( i know, because i stalk their Facebook pages ).

What if my best friend P had never moved to town?

Wow..... weird. I mean, the girl did totally snob me on her first day at my school so i dont even know why i'm friends with her anyway ( its cos i lubs her ). But if she'd never arrived in Year 8, I would probably be best friends with a girl named V. We would have probably moved to Sydney together, where she is now a nurse and i would be working in film.Yes, i dreamt of that once.... i could have been the female Australian version of Tim Burton.

What if i hadnt been to nervous to perform on stage with my Year 11 Drama class ?

I would have moved to Sydney after high school to attend NIDA ( The National Institute of Dramatic Arts ) and, consequently, I would be winning this years Oscar for my brilliant performance in some biopic, co-starring the ever talented and totally gorgeous Emile Hirsch - who i would also be engaged to ( we fell in love on set ). I'd be wearing a fabulous Zac Posen dress, Louboutins and some kind of Bvlgari jewellery. Oh hell yes. Ok, thats not me, thats Jennifer Garner - but i would totally rock a Zac Posen!

What if I had agreed to stay the second year as an au pair ?

Its an absolute given that i would have got up the courage to ask out my crush - which means, of course, that i would now be married to Roberto the Chilean Deli Guy. We had have a handful of sweet, perfectly gorgeous, dark-haired Chilean-Australian babies. I would also be fat from all the chicken salad sandwiches i would have consumed. ( Towne Deli, Summit, NJ - go there, order chicken salad on a Portugese roll. )

What if i had been more passionate about my Year 12 Textiles class project ?

I would be taking part in this years season of " Project Runway- Australia " which i would of course, win. My designs would then be seen on every starlet in Sydney and Melbourne, where i on they would be noticed by Paris Hilton on her next trip to Australia to attend some random New Years Eve party ( for which she was paid a ridiculous amount of money ). Though i wouldnt be entirely pleased because Paris is a skank and my clothes are ( obviously ) not skanky, she would launch me in LA - from their, a runway show at New York Fashion week using ANTM contestants. Picture it .... ( please refer to the Zac Posen dress above for inspiration ).

Oh yes, check it boys and girls - I have totally brought the pop culture references to the table for this post!

The A-B-C of A-M-Y

Aah, another gloriously stolen post idea! Once you start reading, its kind of self-explanatory, so, go ahead, read on....



A. Attached or single ? Eternally single, but if you read this blog you already knew that.



B.Best friend ? P - i've written about her before. She's been my best friend since our last few years of high school, and i only wish we got to hang out more. Its not that easy, what with her newly married status, and the fact that we live almost five hours drive apart, but somehow we make it work.



C.Cake or pie ? Hmm, i'm going to go with pie on this one. I love me some chocolate mudcake but, if it came down to it, i might pick some decadent caramel, or apple, or blueberry type pie ahead of cake.



D. Day of choice ? Friday. I know I'm still at work on a Friday but its the promise of the weekend that makes Friday so good. Once you get to Saturday night, there is only one more day and your back to the daily grind - on a Friday you have the whole weekend ahead of you!



E. Essential item ? Tough question. I'm going to go with a pair of well fitted jeans. You could get away without moisturiser or shampoo or toothpaste - eating the right foods will keep you gorgeous and glowing - but a good pair of jeans ? No woman can go without an item of clothing that lifts her butt, slims her thighs and creates nice long legs. Not even debatable.



F. Favourite colour ? This one has changed over the years. I'm quite partial to red right about now...



G. Gummy bears or worms ? Gummy bears all the way. There was a time in my youth where no trip to the movies was complete without a packet of gummi bears. Worms are good, but gummi bears hold a place in my heart.



H. Hometown ? Dubbo, NSW, Australia. Also referred to as Dubs or DubVegas. We have a zoo. That is all.



I. ( favourite ) Indulgence ? Some kind of beauty treatment. I'm very girlie, but i'm kind of " no frills " girlie - that is, i dont have the money to spend on expensive treatments. But after a massage at a mud bath in Vietnam, and having had a one hour relaxation massage this past weekend, i'm thinking i'm going to have indulge in a full body massage a little more often...



J. January or July ? January, no doubt at all. First of all, its my birthday in January happy burfday to me! ) plus its summer, which beats the cold winter of July hands down. January all the way baby!



K.Kids ? None of my own yet ( they're coming eventually, be sure of it ), but i love kids. I mean, i spent a year volunteering to look after other peoples children, and thats no easy task, so you really have to love kids to do it. I spent this past Saturday night not at a pub, but with a snuffly, sick, 5 month old baby asleep on my lap after having walked him, and danced him, and rocked him around the house. It might kind of lame or desperate to say, but i liked it.



L.Life isnt complete without ? Family, friends, good jeans, cute heels, mascara, and hoop earrings. ....



M. Marriage date ? Seriously, who knows ? Sometimes i despair that its never going to happen. I'm 24 now - it'd be nice if i were married before i wer 28. When i was 18 i wanted to be married before i was 24, but that hasnt happened so who knows?



N. Number of brothers and sisters ? Two younger brothers and one younger sister. Like Paula , i always say i have two brothers, even though one of them died at a young age. Christmas Eve 1989 my youngest brother died of meningitis - he'd be 21 on his next birthday if he'd lived. It always makes me think, if he had lived, would my sister exist ? Best not ponder these things too hard...



O. Oranges or apples ? Mangoes.



P. Phobias ? Well aside from having suffered from acute social anxiety in the past ( so i guess i was kind of afraid of people... ) i dont really have any huge phobias. I dont like spiders, or snakes, or mice inside my house, but thats about it.



Q. Quotes? " It wont rain all the time " - Eric Draven, " The Crow " . Thats about all i have - there are probably hundreds of lines of movie dialogue or song lyrics that i love, i just dont have the ability to recall them off the top of my head. Except that one.

R. Reasons to smile? My neice referring to me as " beautiful girl "; finding the perfect pair of cute heels in my size; buying an album and loving every song on it; sunshine on a rainy day; listening to my mum rave on about something she doesnt quite understand, and then hearing her say something silly; reading a good blog post. You know, simple things amuse simple minds :)

S. Season of choice ? Spring. Once upon a time i would have said summer, but as i've got older and Australia has gotten hotter and drier, i've realised spring is where its at. Its got beautiful sunny warmth, the promise of growth and change, plus it means the end of winter. Yep, spring is my favourite.

T. Tag five people ?I'm going to tage five of you, but dont feel obligated to do this meme: Sheena, Laurie, Andy, Steph and Gene. Your up people!

U. Unknown fact about me ? Umm.... i find it a lot easier to fall asleep if i'm holding something. Seeing as i dont have a many, this means i am either holding my pillow or i'm curled up so tight i'm practically hugging my myself. Not exactly a world shattering secret, but there you have it.

V. Vegetable ? Pumpkin. Now, i commented on Laurie's blog that one of the weirdest things about living in the USA was that they only have pumpkin in season, and the rest of the time, its canned. Canned pumpkin. That shit is weird. I love me some good baked or roasted pumpkin with a traditional roast dinner, or pumpkin soup or pumpkin mash. Hell, i even like pumpkin pie and thats a big thing for a non-American.

W. Worst habit ? :Lately, since i've been growing my hair out ( so, for about the last year... ) i've developed this habit of running my hands through my hair and pulling out all the loose strands. I'm shedding hair like a dog man! Seriously, my mum mentioned the other day that she is beginning to tire of finding my hair on the lounge, or in the bathroom sink or on the kitchen floor. Sick.

X. X-ray or ultrasound ? X-ray. Ultrasounds are more uncomfortable. Like, if your having an abdominal ultrasound, you have to drink a litre of water before your appointment and then you have try your hardest not to pee while the operator runs the little camera-thingy over your overfull bladder. Who wants that ?

Y. Your favourite food ? I have no answer for this question - i just like food. I, from this moment on, refuse to choose a favourite food. I inevitably end up choosing chicken, when we all know i like chocolate just as much. Its just not fair to the other foods, okay ?

Z. Zodiac sign ? I'm Aquarian by birth and Aquarian by nature. Seriously, you make out a list of typical Aquarian traits and i exhibit probably 95% of them. And you, my friends, are living in the Age of Aquarius, so enjoy!

Give A Little Bit

So this is where i publicly state my intention to donate my organs after my death. Yes, Mum, Dad and anybody else who may care at that particular moment, I want to donate my organs to those who need them after my death. What has prompted this public declaration ? I have just finished watching a " 60 Minutes " article about a young Australian named Doujon Zammit.

Doujon had been having the time of his very young life in Mykonos, Greece, earlier this year when after having left one of the tourist pubs, he and his friend were set upon by four nightclub bouncers. Doujon was savagely beaten, including been hit with a metal pipe, until the point of unconscious. He was taken to hospital but, unfortunately, he was a few days later declared brain dead. His father, who had flown to Greece to be by his bedside, made the agonising decision to turn off his life support and, in accordance with his sons wishes, to donate his organs.

I cannot imagine how devastating a decision that must have been, which is why i'm taking this opportunity to make my wishes known, and to spare my parents the burden of that choice. It is, very saddeningly, a choice they have had to make before. For those of you who are new readers of this blog, I had a brother die from meningitis at the age of 1 ( i was almost 5 at the time ). They said it was just too hard to think of having their little boy cut up, of having him divided, even though they knew they could have saved others by doing so. I guess the suddenness of his illness and death ( he fell ill and died within a 24 hour period ), and the fact that you pretty much have to make the decision on the spot, was just too much to bare. I would also imagine that having lost such a young child would make the decision harder aswell. As I said, i would never want them to ever have to make that choice again.

So, as you can probably tell, organ donation happens to be important to me. I'm telling you all now of my intentions, and I am officially registered on the Australian Organ Donation Registery ( and, although not legally binding, on my drivers licence ). I am registered to donate everything - that would be lungs, kidney, heart, liver, skin - except my corneas. This is mainly because my corneas are absolutely crap and are of no use to me right now, let alone anybody else, but also because I might wana be using them in any afterlife there might be. Call me crazy, I just cant bare the idea of anybody messing around with my eyes after i'm gone.

So there we go, intentions stated and semi-rant over. I'll use this last little paragraph to urge all of you to think seriously about organ donation and if its something you agree with, let your loved ones know what you want done. You never know how soon they could be called upon to make the harrowing decision without your help....

Until we walk in those shoes....

I have been reading the latest post on Richard Catto's blog and it has prompted me to share something with you. For those of you who havent read it, Richards writes about a story he read in the news of a young girl killed by a stray bullet in a suburban neighbourhood, an area which her mother did not leave even though she thought herself in enough danger to call Chubb security. It is not so much the story itself that has prompted me - sadly, violence has become an all too common occurence - but what Richard has written in his comments following :
I wonder if her marriage will survive this (assuming she’s married, that is)? I don’t think I could stay married to such a woman. I would blame her for the death of my child and never be able to get over it.

Four weeks before my 6th birthday, on Christmas Eve 1989, my brother died. He was not a victim of violence, but his was a child's life lost nonetheless. He was almost 2 years old, two weeks from this milestone, and being a small child he had fallen asleep on the way to my nan's house on the other side of town. Being so young myself, i do not remember the exact details of the day, but i do remember that when Eli woke up he did not appear to know who anybody was. He had already begun to talk, to communicate in small broken sentences, but he couldnt recognise my parents or myself, or my brother. Nobody. He was just crying, screaming, non-stop. He was also feverish, as far as i remember. My parenst took him to the local hospital, where he was diagnosed with meningitis, an illness that causes inflammation of the covers over the central nervous system area of the brain. It was decided that he needed to be rushed to a specialist childs hospital in Sydney, by helicopter, which would normally take around half an hour. On this particular Christmas Eve, their was fog covering the Blue Mounatins (hich serve as a gateway to Sydney from the west)and, whilst being transferred from the helicopter to a more suitable plane, my brother passed away.
He did not make it to the hospital for treatment, and was pronounced dead on arrival.

The point of sharing this story is to demonstrate my disagreeance with Richards idea that he could never forgive this particular woman her mistake, if he were the childs father. Perhaps disagreeance is not the right term, because i do see where those feelings come from, but i do not think things are so black and white as that.

I have never spoken to my parents candidly about how they felt when my brother died. Being a small child at the time, you understand that mummy and daddy are sad, you are sad, everybody is sad because Eli has gone away and cant ever come back. It's not until your late teens ( in my case ) that it occurs to you that there is more than just sadness involved. I would imagine that their would be a massive degree of guilt to be sorted through. I do not think my parents would have blamed each other, but blamed themselves. That is, they would not have blamed one another as seperate people, but rather themselves as a parenting unit - what if WE had taken him to the doctor at the first sign of fever ? What if WE had called an ambulance sooner ? What if WE had recognised his symptoms as signs of meningitis rather than just a simple cold, or earache? Surely they must have felt guilt at the actions they did not take but, rather than rip them apart, i think it may have brought them closer together.

I would like to think that my parents, or myself in their situation, would try and hold onto the love i had for my partner and for my remaining children, even admist the devastation of having lost someone. That i would cling to the to the love that drew me to my partner in teh first place, all the adoration and admiration i had for them before we become parents, and use that as my strength to pull me through my grief. I believe, without ever having confirmed it, that my parents, my father in particular, had quite a difficult time after my brothers death but here is the strange thing - my sister was conceived, and then born in October of 1990, approximately 10 months after my brothers death.

I do not mean to equate physical intimacy with love, but only to say that my parents must have been pulling together, perhaps in one of the best ways they knew how, if only to stop themselves from tearing apart.