The Time Capsule

My mum is a sentimental hoarder.
I did not inherit this trait.
She has always found it very difficult to part with trinkets, cards, letters, gifts if there is an emotional connection. As a child, I wrote my mum a continual stream of love letters on tiny scraps of paper, usually my notes consisted of a pledge like this:

To Mummy,

I love you.

You are the prettiest and best mum...Love Simone

I would always draw a bird or small creature that would be saying "True!" or "Really!"
She kept every one.
Earlier this year she moved from a 3 bedroom house to a 1 bedroom unit. The downsize suited her, but it meant she had to be very strict on herself & part with many space consuming "treasures".
She filled a box for me & each of my brothers with items she had kept over the years, now ours to hoard....or sort through.
I only went through my box this weekend. I was in raptures unpacking all my childhood goodies. I hadn't seen some of these things for many years. She kept our baby books. Every snippet of information recorded. Our 1st words, a lock of hair at 6 weeks, 6 months...2 years. My baby clothes, booties and hats. My kindy school apron, my first teddy, dolls, my favourite cassettes (Anne Murray: There's a Hippo in My Bathtub) Countless delights. I cooed & purred at toys, jewellry boxes, books. The memories flooding in. I loved these things as a kid.
I have never been more thankful that Mum was a sentimental hoarder. Who knew so much joy could be found under layers of dust?
Thank you Mumma. You are the prettiest and best mum. True, really.

Home is where the Heart is. And my hairdryer.

Thank you for all of your sincere, non-judgemental, caring comments. Each one represented a hug & a comforting hand on my shoulder. Youse Rule.

On many occasions throughout my life I have been told how brave, strong & courageous I am. It's always amazing, if not a little startling to hear people talk about me in such a fashion because I often feel the exact opposite.
I don't cry alot. This is not because of an inner strength or a degree in self meditation. It just takes a heavy deal to bring me undone.

In the past few weeks I have cried countless times, into many different pillows, shoulders & teatowels. It was theraputic if not a little damp.

I walked out on my husband because I was desperate to show him that I could not accept his dramatic mood swings or unprovoked temper any longer. I just couldn't bury my sadness or isolation another day. It was extremely hard to acknowledge that our polished lives had begun to tarnish & rust. I had glossed over our marriage for too long.

It's hard to air your dirty laundry in front of an unsuspecting audience. It's excrutiating to remain motionless as everything drops from the display cabinet that is your life. It's awful to hear negative remarks about your relationship. Looking truth in the eye takes nerves of steel.

But I did it. And I am so glad that I did. Perhaps, just perhaps leaving him was exactly what I needed to do to salvage our relationship.

My husband has had an emotional year. His Mother's stroke has left him incredibly sad. Her recovery has been steady, yet slow. She is blind. She is completely dependant & unable to hold a lightening quick, animated converstaion like she used to. We are getting to know the new woman she has become even though we dearly miss the one that she was.

My husband's family business has seen the exit of his Mum, Dad & sister since July. The load on him is unbearable. I know these things are partly to blame for his terrible moods. I also know it is no excuse to treat me badly. Hurting the ones we love can be so, so easy.

He has acknowledged his problems. He is confident he can do much better. He wants to let go of his inner macho shithead persona. He wants to be the man I married.

We are trying to undo the hurt. We are delving into the pile of distress to see if we can recover something beautiful. Sifting & sorting through all the dust in the hope of finding gold.

Brave. Strong. Courageous.
I am.

And now something Unexpected

I have some news.

It's not joyous. It's not easy to share. It's not on my "2006 to do" list.

I have left my husband.

Without disclosing too much gore, there is no third party. We have behavioural problems that need addressing & I have taken drastic steps to emphasise my intolerance.
I hope we can reconcile one day. For the first time in many years, the pursuit of motherhood has become priority number 21.

I will still drop in, of course. I feel strangely alienated right now, in my real life & in blogland.

The clear road ahead can so quickly become obscure & bumpy.
......man, this really sucks.