Today

Day 0

Monday 4^th of March

I was surprised at how strong my emotional reaction was this morning. In my mind I was prepared for Stacy to pass. I knew that it would be different to anything I could predict, however I have been thinking about today for years and I thought that would partially prepare me. Wrong. 

I experienced the full physical reaction that was beyond my control. It wasn’t immediate, however when I held Stacy something came pouring out with a force that took me by surprise. It was grief, pain, shock and loneliness.

It came in waves for the next couple of hours, when I was pressed closely to Stacy, when I was in the other end of the house, it came and went and surged and ebbed. It was unique to my experience so far. There was a flavour of the feeling that I used to get on a day that Stacy left to go back overseas during the first few years. 

After dropping her off at an airport and returning home to my bed the emptiness inside me would curl my body inward like light around a black hole. Like a leaf drying in the sun, the edges curling in towards the pit in the middle.  The vacancy, the cavity yearning to be filled. 

I saw the sky as the sun rose, it was a beautiful morning. I experienced some memories of Stacy that I hadn’t for years (That strange straight arm on the spot run she would sometimes do).  I was so grateful that the good memories came to me, I didn’t try, they came. She was always so wonderful to be with. I missed her and I smiled.  

That hole of loneliness was familiar, I had been there before, however today there were other things. The shock of change, a change that I still have only a weak understanding of. 

The pain of all her suffering that I witnessed from the closest of observation points. I witnessed it all and had to block much off. I couldn’t feel all of Stacy’s pain because I couldn’t afford to stop. She needed me to be able to do. At a moments notice, for an entire day. At any time of day and night, despite any other potential distraction, I had to be ready to do. I couldn’t afford to feel it all with her because mine was a task of activity, relentless activity with no control of the beginning or end. Feeling it all with her would have been paralysing. This morning I think I began to feel some of it again. 

The long wait for Debi to arrive was the hardest part of today. Stacy passed at 4:20am, Debi arrived at 3pm. For 11 hours we waited. There were some things to be done, but there was too much that had to hold until Debi arrived, she had to know next. 

Dave and I were standing on the shore of a disaster with a tsunami surging towards us. All we could do was brace for the impact. Once the wave crashed there would be more to do than we could handle, until then it was still and brutal. 

Stacy was so beautiful. Hauntingly still and bright, like a marble statue. Glorious to look at and magnificent to touch. Quiet and familiar, she looked like at any moment she would wake up and ask me to help with something. I found it hard to leave the room because for the last few months we have been in eye contact for 95% of the day. I didn’t want to be away from her, I knew she didn’t need me anymore, but I think I still needed her. I still do. 

It became easier for me as the day went on and we shared the news with Stacy’s world, Debi first and then out across the global community that Stacy has forged with her light. Caring for others is now my comfortable place to be. The thoughts, fears, pain and behaviour of other people is much easier for me to deal with than my own. Through the afternoon and evening I gratefully welcomed the disaster in everyone else’s lives as a mask for the disaster in my own. 

Stacy left the house at 7pm. I didn’t watch the men from the funeral directors move Stacy onto the trolley, nobody touched Stacy. I am the one who helps her, I wasn’t comfortable watching others do it. I haven’t shied away from any aspect of Stacy’s struggle as I have been fully involved with every movement and decision. To not be included was harder than all the exhaustion, frustration and physical and mental pain of the last 3 years. 

She left and I slept. Alone and very poorly. The empty pit returned, I curled around it.

Day 365

Tuesday 4th of March

It was much clearer how to feel a year ago. Significantly more uncomfortable, more distressing and maybe even more confusing, however it was very obvious that was the way to feel. That was the day to be inundated by feelings like that, no question, indulge, submerge, bask in the vast influence of disaster. 

Today I have significantly less clarity in my feelings. There is not so much disaster basking going on, I’m not overwhelmed by the all powerful rush of emotions. It's hard to bask in disaster when much that I experience is good, fun and happy. Perhaps I'm just executing a classic behaviour and looking back at a day in the past with all the clarity of time piled on top of it. Memory is not capable of recording all the doings of a day twelve months gone, so intellect takes over and says things like ‘oh yeah, it was was much clearer how to feel a year ago.’ Good one intellect. 

Today I share in a range of feelings. A nice human range of feelings and i’m glad for the fact. Tomorrow I suspect i’ll try it again. To all of you who read this and also experience a range of feelings today, i’m with you and thanks for sharing it with me. 

I burnt a candle last night. I don’t really know what it meant however it was good to have, thanks for the wisdom Mum.

Lots of love to you out there,

Mike

Birthday

‘Captain Courageous!’ yelled the small group gathered in the outdoor garden. Stacy surged forward into the crowd of her friends from the Starlight Children's Foundation. ‘The party is here!’ responded Stacy, immediately matching the new volume of the night. 

Captains Sparkles and Giggles, Sunshine and Silly were in the pub and living it up like only a group of professional attention seekers can. There was dancing on the tables, telling jokes on the dance floor and impromptu skits broke out in most bathrooms in the building. With enough Starlight Captains in one place a night out quickly ascends into a long running, real life performance piece in which volume and action competing for precedence.  

‘Elle’ girls mixed with Captains, family mixed with friends and Stacy stitched us all together with big smiles and more kisses on the cheek than there were cheeks to kiss. People posed for photos like models, danced like, well maybe models, and definitely drank more than they ate, like, well ok, like a dog might on a hot day. 

It all escalated until Stacy found a long umbrella in a corner and brought it to the dance floor. 

‘Hey, i’m going to do a routine for you.’ she blasted to the room and anyone who was listening. ‘Watch this!’

With the umbrella intermittently swinging around her head and then occupying the centre of Stacy’s broad swinging dance arc she ruled the dance floor. To Stacy there was no difference between people making a little space to watch her dance and people making a little space to avoid being hit by an umbrella. 

The point was people were making a little space, and into that space she poured her joy, enthusiasm and at times pretty fun dance moves. She pulled her friends into the act and the umbrella may have had the best populated dance card in the room. 

When security staff became involved in the interest of public safety, Stacy met them with charm and cheek. ‘Hi guys, its my birthday’. Smiling and swaying. With the umbrella proffered handle first, she had the last word with some wit and grace, ‘wanna dance?’

They didn’t, but Stacy didn’t mind. She partied her finest, calling all to her with love and energy. Stacy knew that her friends were a part of her life force and a great source of energy. She loved sharing her time and her spirit with a collection of fun friends and ‘little munchkins’ and this birthday was no different. 

Now

Wednesday 22nd of January

Canberra was beautiful tonight. I drove home after a dinner with the Neild Browns on the south side of town. The sun was setting and the light was delicate. Hills and trees, light and shadow. A brilliant orange sun and the fresh crisp air of a summer evening here in the capital. 

I thought of Stacy on the drive home. I have been thinking about her most days when I have been writing. It is different though, when i’m writing i’m remembering and attempting to record. Driving in the light tonight I thought about her, about her in the context of me. I’m didn’t feel sad tonight that Stacy wasn’t with me, I didn’t feel sad for me. I did feel the pain of her not being able to experience the beauty of an evening drive, a sunset, a summer night. 

She would have loved a night like tonight like she loved so much of life. I wonder what her experience is like right now. Does she experience? If so then I think it must be beautiful. 

I will be well in my life without Stacy. She was so good for me, her journey was a spectacular one and I was privileged to be there for much of it. She marked me clearly, and i’m changed for the better through that experience. 

It was a brilliant ride home, grace filled and beauty touched. 

Merry Christmas to you too

My mother works at the Mater Hospital where the Starlight Children's Foundation have their Starlight room.

Dad and I picked her up to go and see some carols by the river during the week. We stopped to look at the message in the Starlight room widow that mum had noticed that morning.

Merry Christmas to you too Captain Starlight we all thought. 

Writing, right.

Have I told you? I've been doing some writing.

I'm planning on attempting to record some stories from the past 11 years or so. It has been a mixed experience so far and I get the sense it will be a massive challenge. Painful and jubilant, but also grinding at times.

It feels like a valuable thing to me, and as I was reflecting this week I feel really good about having it as a task to build my time around.

I'm currently working on the beginning of 2009 and I thought I might share this little bit with you. It makes me feel good about our girl Stacy. A little easier to remember and feel her presence with some words that might have come from her.

Boxing class started the next week and Stacy got stuck right in. Stacy would meet Leila and the group in the parklands and training would last for an hour. Running, punching, squats, running, sit ups, punching, holding pads, punching pads, running, etc. 

The first time Stacy came home she looked like she had be rung loose after an hour in a washing machine. Her face and body were stretched and squeezed, hot and dripping. She sat on the couch and went quiet for a while, quiet. 

‘Good session Stace?’ I proffered with a grin.

‘Oh my God!’ 

‘Really? What’s the story at boxing Muncher?’ enquired her strangely pleased husband. 

‘Oh my God Mike, my arms! I don’t think I can hold them up anymore. It was hard to drive home’ she said dramatically. 

Having opened the flood gates her description flowed. ‘then you have to run around the…you just have to keep punching the pad until…and there are so many stairs...the thing is Mike, that you don’t stop until everyone is done.’ She recounted the session and basked in the effort and the obstacle. 

‘It is great to see you so pumped up and also so worn out Stace. Go and have a shower and lets eat’ I prompted. 

‘I am so hungry, I want a bowl as big as my head’ she threw over her shoulder, closely followed by her shirt as she headed down the hall. The shirt landed with a slap. Training had begun. 

Hair cut in Brisbane

It has been coming for a while, a post about being home.

Before I left, and at times during the trip away I experienced a feeling of trepidation about returning to Brisbane and more specifically returning to life outside of fantasy.

Finding a job, driving around the neighbourhood, walking the dogs down familiar paths, cooking dinner - for one, visiting friends, Christmas and birthdays. These regular parts of life hold both a simple enjoyment and in part a haunting parody of those same activities in another time.

Towards the end of my travels as I began to look towards returning from a most satisfying adventure, it was natural to consider what it would be like to be home. The reality has been that life here in Brisbane is much the same as life anywhere, challenge and opportunity.

Generally I've had a really great time since I've been back home. When I say back home I mean broadly Australia and Brisbane but also specifically Victoria St with Mum and Dad. It has been really nice to spend time here with the folks, we had a bit of sharing and mutual mourning to do.

In other areas I've sold a few Barbecues, taught a few lessons at school, thrown a few frisbees, scratched a few words out with the keyboard and spent some time with friends.

The plan from here is to follow the pattern of the last few weeks however to follow it in the nation's capital. I'm going to head down there in the first week of January and attempt to delve into recent history through some writing while I delve into the future with some running, and catching (Frisbees).

I feel very hopeful about the planned events of the new year and I'm confident I will continue to enjoy spending time here at home.


Oh and I got a hair cut, it was good.

One Pair of Shoes

Hello folks, Mike here.

I put some pictures of a shoe together, it's pretty sweet. Don't mind the backgrounds.