Sunday afternoon, I travelled to the Big Smoke, to stay the night with Cal, Bron, Immy and Violet. Even Ragnar was civil towards me. Fun with a jigsaw, cuddles with my beautiful grandchildren and a marvellous dinner were all trying to mask the approach of a circumstance that had been hanging over me since the end of 2022. Callum and Bronwyn worked hard to boost my confidence and discuss my hoped outcome for the following day. I slept fitfully in their theatre room, trying very hard not to dwell on the coming storm.
Monday was one of the most difficult days of my life. I was in an unfamiliar environment, mostly on my own. I was also without knowledge, hence I was powerless. I have always prided myself on research and investigation in order to understand my place in the world. The NDIA/S is a great example of being able to decipher a wholly foreign concept over time, abandoning the laptop screen for hard copy, arming myself with a highlighter and perseverance to navigate this very complex system. I am not quite there yet in comprehending all the intricacies of this juggernaut, but I believe that I will sooner rather than later. I also think the NDIA/S will become successful and inclusive, given enough will and patience. But on Monday, I had none of that optimism or sense of self.
And so, I wept and raged with grief and a lack of hope. Callum had taken a day off work to be with me, but given circumstances out of our control, we decided that I would enter this particular lion's den on my own. I will never forget that he was witness outside a door to my anguish and despair. The morning wore on. I just wanted this terrible experience to end. So, I caved in on my principles and allowed another person to dictate conditions that had previously been anathema to me. And in a final bittersweet moment, agreement was reached on a point that had previously been subject to much conjecture.
I fled from this place to lunch with Callum at the Mount Street Breakfast Bar for comfort food, a margarita and a chance to debrief with my beloved son. I took my leave of them mid-afternoon and prepared to travel two hours home with an hour of shopping thrown in for good measure.
I was physically and emotionally exhausted. Road rage by others seemed to chase me and I was involved in a couple of near misses, much to my dismay. I arrived home to my darling Michael, Station House and our quirky home just after 6pm. Michael helped me in with all the shopping, I burst into tears and he held me in his arms until I was calmer.
I revived enough to unpack and organise some dinner for us. And almost immediately, I was inundated with love. Callum wanted to make sure I had returned home safely. My Autistic Superstar, Alex, rang to check I was okay. Michael was my shadow and Chop the cat, Stella the dog and Red the parrot supplied me with much comic relief. Paula, our housemate and pet sitter extraordinaire, brought in my washing, held me close and let me know how much I was loved by her. She calls us Ma and Pa and she has become, most definitely, my adopted daughter. She is returning to the Big Smoke to care for her Mum for a while, but she has promised she will not be a stranger.
As Monday evening moved to Tuesday morning, my distress eased to be be replaced by a warm sense of love and belonging. I am part of a fantastic tribe. I have my sons, my husband, our pets and our treasured friends. We have the East End Gallery, our fantastic home, the wonderful community of Heavenly Beverley and our continuing adventures.
I am not quite recovered from my ordeal as yet. But with belief and acceptance comes a full circle. How lucky am I.
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