Dear you...

Dear you who I miss.

Dear you who I remember.

Dear you who I envision as I write.

 

You were my Grandma.

When I did something (happy or shameful) your arms were there.

Grandma, Mother, Wife, and dear friend, your mere presence a haven.

 

Softly lighting and warming a room with (what my Mum named) your 'secret smile'.

You secretly liked it when Granddad said something soppy. 

Responding with an 'Oh, Ian!' 

 

Ian brought you tea and a song each morning.

Anne, Sue, Bruce, Graeme love and joy. 

So much you gave up your job! Someone had to raise them.

Then it grew to Grandkids. Dan, Bron, Meg, Matt and then family pets Thomas the cat and dogs Dobby, Choo, and Finley. You loved us and were a lifeline for our parents who we drove up the wall.

But, according to the fridge magnet, one of the reasons you have children is so you can have grandchildren, and you spoiled us rotten.  You gave so many fun memories of silly games and songs, books, puzzles, and museum trips and more. Every day with you full of joy for me. 

I was so sad when you left us, I only celebrated Christmas because I remembered that you would have. 

So, I sung and put-up lights where my housemates could enjoy them, thinking of you as I did. Because whatever happens Christ still came into the world knowing he would suffer, die (be separated from his father), and rise again. 

That gives me hope. For you died knowing and believing that you. Because of that we (and other Christians) believe we will get to see each other again because Christ did not come and die for nothing. He died to bring us into God's family.

So, one day I will see you, and Aunty Anne, and Nanna Jo and everyone else who has died knowing and believing in Christ and trusting him, will be as one family.

Now let us rejoice and be glad, even though we mourn, for the shining hope that Christmas brings.

Whatever tomorrow and next year brings let us remember.

"For this is the day that the Lord has made, let us rejoice and be glad in it!'

Psalm 118:24 ESV

I miss my Grandma... reader who do you miss? 

 

Dream…

Some are told not to dream. To think and strive for small things.

Small things are good. Big things too.

But we all must dream. To have goals, something to aim for.

So, even if it does not turn into a reality, I will dream.

To buy a place to live with a garden and a dog.

One day a husband to love and support.

Even if my dreams do not become reality,

At least for now,

These are my dreams.

What do you dream?

 

As a support worker in Australia, part of my job is to support people in setting up goals to work towards. This is often broken down into smaller goals. For example, wanting to attend a course in person requires easy access to the classroom. Once completing their course, this person can start to work on the bigger goal of finding employment.

But often, for those with disability, the community is not set up for this to be easy. It should be easier, but it is not. Advocating is hard, and needs support from others and ears to listen, and eyes to see that they are capable and can be an asset as people who come with differences can see things from a different angles, that average person cannot.

If you have a disability, (myself included with mild Cerebral Palsy), dreaming of a job that you want is not always seen in a positive light. You may be told that you need to think small, to go for easier options. This is a shame. It comes from a lack of understanding and willingness to adapt for those who live with extra challenges.

Yes, some jobs cannot be adapted to fit the person. You could not employ a pilot who is blind. But you encourage them to look for a job in the tourism industry. For example, a tour guide who is blind would notice things about a place that others may not. The smells, the feels, the sounds… these are enhanced.  And yes, support may be needed, but who does not need support when they start a new job?

If we employ all kinds of people, with diverse abilities, we can learn and grow more as a community. I have learnt so much by simply listening, discussing, being open to being wrong, and coming up with ideas with all kinds of individuals.

So, go on… I urge you… talk with someone different than you, see the world at a different angle, and help one another to learn and grow.  

Trauma

 

Everyone has a different experience and relationship with Trauma.

This is mine…

 

I have been thinking about Trauma recently. My own experience and that of others.

Trauma is hard to recover from, it takes time, as with every emotional hurt.

Sometimes I wish it would ‘hurry up’ so I could be ‘normal’ again.

Then I recall that my reaction that my Nanna Jo dying suddenly in a house fire is ‘normal’.

 

By working with and supporting clients, friends, and family I have started to learn more about how common, unique to each person and complex a thing is Trauma.

Trauma, I think, is developed to help us pause and acknowledge and process our pain.

When hard things happen, Trauma turns up.

For me, I had some physical symptoms, nausea, shakes, panic attacks, muscle tension causing migraines and vison disturbances, smoke sensitivity, sudden cramping of my uterus (part of PMDD having fun with me, it reacts to stress by tensing my uterus… bodies are strange and sometimes a bit self-destructive).

So, I went to my GP who specialises in women’s health. The first thing she asked me was “are you talking with anyone about this?” when I replied “mostly my boyfriend” she gently stated “No… I mean book in with your phycologist”.

She is an excellent and compassionate GP. She did not dismiss the physical symptoms due to my emotions. Sent me off for a blood test and checked my blood pressure. Turns out, like a lot of women I was iron deficient. 22/30 was low enough that I was asked to take supplements for three months. Good news, now it is almost at 30 (healthy range) so I just eat more iron rich food combined with upping my citrus intake.

Anyway… slowly I did start to feel better. I had an appointment with my phycologist, talked about it with close friends and family, received hugs and support, all the good stuff.

Fire Training… was deeply triggering. I was so thankyou for my understanding and kind Chaplin at work who stood with me, talking softly in my ear, seeing me few the panic and the flash backs that made me cry convulsively afterwards. I love her for that. I was so very relieved that I had already told her what had happened, so she intuitively stood with me.  

If you are recovering from Trauma know that I would always be willing to stand by you, to be your support person, to hold you while you cry and listen as you talk it out. I had people to do that for me and I would not consider myself in recovery now if they had not been there for me during this time. I found a helpful phrase during Fire Training was “it’s not the same fire” and then, with instruction, I extinguished the flame. Pick a phrase if you find it helpful, and people you can talk to. Face your fear and seek advice from health care professionals. They help a lot. I saw GP, Physio, and Phycologist. Who is on your team?

The most important thing is to have people you can talk to, fall apart in front of without feeling self-conscious. This is important. Find your people. People who have been where you are and can genuinely tell you ‘it’s going to suck for a while… then it really does get better’

So, to my health care team, to my close friends, to my family, my boyfriend, and the Chaplin at work and my colleagues and parents of my clients…

THANKYOU!

May everyone be as blessed as I am to have people in their lives that they can be comfortable enough to be real with and receive deep support from.

You guys are wonderful.

"Sorry"

 

“Sorry” used too little…

“Sorry” I am upset and showing it.

“Sorry” I bumped into you, in your way.

Women (and others) do these apologies a lot.

 

“Sorry” too little used…

“Sorry” It was my fault; how can I help?

“Sorry” I will try to do better and need some help.

Men (and others) could do this more.

 

“Sorry” can mean so many things.

“Sorry” has a reason behind it.

“Sorry” is used when quite a lot or little is felt.

Every person, whoever they are, can rethink the use of this word.  

COVID 19 Rains

 COVID 19 Rains

Why do you threaten us so? Why must we hide from each other? Why does ours and other's physical health take priority? 

Friends when and how and can we meet again? Friends how best can I care for you? Friends will we forget one another?

Work when will requirements stop fluctuating? Work why do you have to be so dreadfully daunting? Work I understand that I am obligated to go to you, but sometimes, I really don't want to, who does?

Family how do we show our love? Family grief is so much more complex, isn't it? Family who am I allowed to hug?

Flooding questions, information to remember and process, and concerns keep coming in. Flooding feelings for others and our own on top of those. Flooding COVID 19 on all of us. 

Downpour on all... don't forget your umbrella and take a spare for a friend or two. As we walk through all this together…  

'My times are in your hands, Lord.' Psalm 31:15

A friend named Grief

Grief is different for everyone
Grief is shaped by why it has come
Grief is nesscessary to allow for healing.
Grief can hurt without limit.
Grief takes awhile to get used to.
Grief can be there as long as is needed.
Grief takes sometime to befriend.

Grief, I was avoiding, dreading your arrival.
But now I see you, standing before me.
You hurt me to repair me.
Like a dislocated limb being put back in place.
There is a sudden jolt of the bone, as it is put back in.
The people around me help me to go through the motions.

The dislocation will have always happened.
Yet with it, my strength has grown as love is shown.
At one time or another, we have all known you Grief.
So we are there for oneanother, through your visits.
If we did not experiance and learn to accept your presence...
We would not be full human beings.
Even Jesus wept. Fully God and fully man, he wept.

Together we can learn to say the words:
'Thanks for coming Grief. I know you better now.
Untill we meet again...'

Where is strength?

A single parent working and raising a child.

A nurse saying ‘yes’ to a night shift, heart in.

A person working a job they hate, to support others.

A client being honest, asking for more support.

A partnership working through challenges together.

A person experiencing mental or physical illness, working through the day.

In all these things, there is strength within.

But… sometimes we need the strength of others.

It takes all the strength we have left to ask.

To admit that you need support from others.

Accepting that hand, that arm, that great big hug.

But do not hesitate … and ask without shame.

For me it means asking for time off.

To admit that I need others, like we all do.

Talking honestly, listening openly, knowing that I am okay.

Recognising when, it is time, to book that professional.

Of course, God turns my weakness into strength.

He does not need me to be everything, do everything.

In this there is reassurance… here… in his strength I can rest.