February Journals
If it’s not pastel or tie dye, I don’t want it.
I’ve been mostly journaling about my grief this month, which I will share some of here. The majority of my journals this month will be kept to myself for safe-keeping. Thank you to everyone who has lifted me up, checked in with me and supported me through this. It means more than you know.
I’ve been telling everyone that I’m sugar-free but I just found out these vegan chocolate covered dates that I eat regularly have sugar in them. I’m a fraud.
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Tim and I went to see Bon Iver tonight at the ICC Theatre. As we arrived, I was surprised by how many people were there. I said to Tim “Who are these people? Are they meant to be from Sydney? I haven’t seen any of them anywhere.” Before finding our seats, we found a water dispenser and gulped a few ‘shots’ of water while others lined up for the bar. We noticed there was a merch stand but the designs were pretty average. I told Tim that if it’s not pastel or tie dye, I don’t want it. I would have been excited to see Bon Iver under any other circumstances but I had just finished work where I had to be ‘on’ and all I wanted to do was go home. I don’t think I’m a martyr because I had to go to a concert while I’m in the thick of my grief process. I just felt terribly disconnected from the people around me. As I was talking to Tim about Nanna, I had tears running down my face. I must have been a real buzzkill to anyone eavesdropping. There were people double-fisting drinks and joking around with their friends. Then there was me, talking about the circle of life and the pain that consumes me. From afar, I probably looked like the biggest Bon Iver fan of all time, crying that I was in the same room as them. Like, they’re pretty good but this isn’t the Katy Perry Prismatic World Tour. I was so emotionally and physically exhausted that when the show seemingly finished, I thought to myself “I really hope there isn’t an encore”. People were chanting for them to come back on stage and I wasn’t sure I could handle being out any longer. “ONE MORE SONG! ONE MORE SONG!” The crowd chanted. Tim and I laughed after the show when I told him I dreaded the encore. He said I should’ve chanted “NO MORE SONGS! NO MORE SONGS!”. While I felt disconnected from those around me, I thought about how the one thing that connects us all as humans is how none of us will escape the pain of losing our loved ones during our lifetime.
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At a work event, a colleague of mine said “I don’t trust anyone who doesn’t like olives.”
Cut to me: Sitting there in silence. Feeling untrustworthy.
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Tim and I were driving up the coast so I took the responsibility of being the Car DJ. I had gone on a tangent about how when we travel Tim may take care of most of the logistics, but I bring the comedy and the playlists. “I’m a mood curator” I said.
We were listening to Motion Sickness by Phoebe Bridgers. “I want to write a song like this….for my haters” I told Tim. “But you don’t have any haters” Tim said. I felt surprisingly protective of my victim narrative. “Yes I do!” I said assertively before trailing off a list of names of my potential haters.
Songs that we sang at the top of our lungs: Iris by The Goo Dolls, Losing My Religion by R.E.M. and Don’t Look Back In Anger by Oasis.
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Nothing could have prepared me for the pain I felt visiting Nanna’s neighbourhood ahead of her funeral. I was walking over the Tuncurry Bridge with the ocean underneath me, a breeze hitting my face forcefully as I walked in the opposite direction. I was resisting the wind just as much as I was resisting the reality that Nanna is no longer here.
I felt like I could hardly breathe. My body felt so heavy and I couldn’t stop the tears falling down my face.
When we arrived at the local Woolworths, to my right was the Chinese Shop I went to the last time I saw Nanna where I bought her dinner.
I had this anger inside of me. No one in the Woolworths would have known but I was devastatingly angry. Followed by deep despair. Profound sadness. It was one of the worst moments of my entire life. As I waited in line for the self-serve checkout, a young surfer dude turned around and offered for me to go ahead of him. I couldn’t figure out why he did it but the gesture gave me a brief moment of comfort.
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I’ve never met an acoustic cover I didn’t like. My Dad and I often have the same favourite song off an album. It is almost always a forgotten B-side to the general population. Our favourite from Avril Lavigne’s Let Go is Tomorrow. All the “filler” tracks at the end of the tracklist are typically treasured by us. A recent B-side favourite is Crave by Paramore. Tim describes it as a “KV Song” which is a term he has coined to describe a song that captures how I feel about something or a song that reminds him of me. Crave is about longing to write about something wonderful that has happened because you desperately want to capture it in written form. A KV Song indeed. There’s another track on the album called C’est Comme ça which has lyrics “In a single year, I've aged one hundred, my social life, a chiropractic appointment.” I feel like Paramore have been spying on me.
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Tim is doing a lot of writing of his own lately. He is annoyingly good at it. He is able to capture a moment in time so well. He will often share with me excerpts of what he has written about me. I tell him I’m interested in hearing all of his writing but truthfully, I get most excited when I get a mention. Tim will say “There’s lots of KV mentions in this one” and it feels like Christmas morning for me and my ego.
He also has the focus and grit to write something in length. I’ve been complimented for my “succinct” writing style but honestly, I think it is just my pure laziness that allows me to get to my point quickly.
We have been talking a lot about the Pub Test. This is a phrase I have only recently become aware of. It is a term coined by Australians to test what the outcome of a debate would be if you asked a bunch of random people at the pub about it.
It is easy to fall victim to the grey areas when asking for opinions of loved ones but the Pub Test allows someone from the outside looking in to give an objective opinion.
Tim and I will often say “I would definitely win the Pub Test over this” when we are certain our point of view is objectively the most logical argument.
Anyway, we had a disagreement after Tim picked me up from work the other night. I won’t tell you what it was about because now that I’m thinking back on it, I’m not sure that I would get the unanimous Pub Test vote that I thought I would have at the time.
The next morning, Tim was typing on his computer. Passionately hitting the keyboard with each letter. I was worried that my character was going to get a bad rap in his writing. I kissed his forehead, stroked his hair and whispered into his ear don’t write about this.
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I swam in the motel pool wearing the clothes I had on. Doing something like that is very unlike me but I felt compelled to do it. I felt like a little kid again. Swimming on a humid afternoon, just before it started to rain. I had a swimming race with Tim, Jake and Chloe. I was surprised I won. I gave it everything I had. The excitement of winning was a brief escape from the sunken feeling I had had all afternoon. Important note: Tim is 34, Jake is 13 and Chloe is 5.
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My niece Chloe is the sweetest girl. Tim and I often quote something she said at his 33rd birthday picnic. After my angsty then 9 year old niece criticised the hand-drawn flower on the Uber Eats bag, Chloe said “Maybe the flower is still growing?” As a reason for the rather amateur flower drawing. Tim and I immediately looked at each other in a omg-she-is-just-too-pure-for-this-world kind of way. In moments of grief, Chloe’s commentary reminds me that there’s still so much to live for, curiosity to explore and beauty to be found everywhere. As we unpacked our things at the motel she said “It is a little old, but at least we are all together.”
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I had a dream where Nanna was hanging signs all over the wall, hammering nails into the wall before hanging them. I was surprised because I thought she was more of a 3M Command strip kinda gal. She asked me if I knew what all the signs said. I told her I didn’t. I couldn’t make sense of them. She said “They all say I love you.”
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It was Chloe’s first day of school today. Tim and I met her after school for milkshakes and de-briefs. Chloe forgot her drink bottle in the classroom. “We can pick it up tomorrow” her Mum said. “I think we should get it now” Chloe replied assertively. Chloe held hands with her new teacher as they walked to the classroom to retrieve her drink bottle. I noticed how open and trusting she is. I suppose that is the by-product of being loved and adored by everyone you meet.
Chloe loves her Mumma. It was cute watching them converse and hold hands after a day apart. “I sniffed your pillow to see if it smelled like you… was that a bit much?” Her Mum asked. “Yeah, that was a bit much” Chloe told her, grinning and shaking her head.
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Chloe Quote of the Day:
“What’s conjunctivitis?”
We tell her.
“Oh yeah, I already had that.”
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I spoke with Dad on FaceTime. He was shocked to learn how old Tim was turning on his birthday. “It all goes so fast…you’ve got to figure out how to enjoy it.”
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Something I’ve been stewing on is how at a recent event the DJ refused to play Taylor Swift. I politely requested it due to popular demand. The DJ shooed me away and gave me a filthy look. “It wasn’t like you requested Michael Jackson” a friend said. I’m so sorry that you’re an artist that cannot be disturbed with trivial requests while you’re busy entertaining an empty dance-floor. I’m. So. Sorry. Oh, and your song transitions sucked. I’m totally over it though.
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I still have moments where I cannot comprehend she isn’t here. “We were playing cards together just last week” Mum said to me as she scrolled through photos of Nanna on her phone. I find myself re-reading the tribute I wrote for her. As if re-reading my words is something of her I can hold onto. There was a time where I thought I was at peace knowing she would leave us soon but when she did, I very quickly realised I could have never been ready for such an unimaginable loss. Tim told me that if people are hurting when someone passes away it means they did something right.
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February Favourites:
Paramore - This Is Why. I’m obsessed.
Lizzie McGuire - Re-watching old favourites has proven to be deeply comforting for me this month.
Soy iced lattes - My summer afternoon coffee order is getting so long that one might suggest I don’t even bother. A large, decaf, soy, iced latte. I finally know what Train are talking about in Drops of Jupiter when they sing “The best soy latte that you’ve ever had, and me.”
Crying in public - It’s kinda becoming my thing. Crying to my barista, crying at concerts, crying at Mexican restaurants.
Until next month, stay well friends x