Acknowledging and dealing with

Today is ANZAC Day - a day to remember our men who went away and fought in the war, in order to give us a better life...for those who gave the ultimate sacrifice and for those who came home and had to live the remainder of their lives remembering the atrocities they had seen and experienced. Our dad fought in World War II and was one of the lucky ones to come home and make a life for himself. Dad never talked about the war and in all honesty, I never asked. I never even gave it a second thought..I was always quite proud of the fact that my dad fought for his country but I never really stopped to think about what he had seen. So to me, ANZAC Day has significant meaning and while I have never attended a Dawn Parade, it doesn't mean that my heart and thoughts are not there with them all. The disappointing thing is that so many people don't respect these historic, life changing events and instead of making the most of the freedom we experience in our little country, because these men went to war and fought, they are determined to screw it up - their own lives and dragging others down with them.

I was watching 'Ellen' clips this morning and one of them was about a woman who works at Facebook. Her husband had died unexpectedly 2 years earlier and in her grief, decided to write a book. Everything she said sounded like she was talking directly to me, not just about the grief of losing someone you love but with how my being diagnosed with cancer has affected how people handle it. So it got me to thinking...and I felt I would like to share with those of you who decide to carry on reading, my take on grief and how the actions of others since my diagnosis has affected me, and perhaps what I wish people would do or say. But remember, this is my take on it - it's not to say one size fits all and so everyone who is diagnosed with something awful will want this...

Grief is an unimaginable thing...in this instance I am talking about the grief of losing a loved one. Our mum and dad died many years ago, mum in 1991when I was 26 and dad in 1995 when I was 30. There was a difference in how I grieved, while I was devastated at the loss of my dad (he died of lung cancer) losing my mum was almost too much to bear. She was like the matriarch of our family who kept us all together, and then when she died, it was like our family fractured. I thought I could jump in and piece us all back together again and ended up having a break down. It manifested itself by my becoming very anxious about small things which caused me to come out in rashes and ended up having to go onto medication for a short period of time. It was tough...

And then David died...nothing could prepare me for that. Whatever I felt from losing mum and dad was insignificant to the feelings I had when we lost David. I don't mean that in an awful way, or perhaps I should have said multiply those feelings by a million and then you may grasp how devastating it was. I was lucky enough to have my sister and her husband where the girls and I would crash upon often because I hated being at home. During the day would be fine because it was like hke he was at work, but having to do simple things like cook dinner so my babies could eat, I just didn't want to do it...

The girls were 2 and 4 years old when he died, and they also grieved for their dad. My big girl would go to bed crying and saying "where's my daddy, why won't he come home" and my little baby would just cry and became very clingy, not even wanting to be left with those she was usually so comfortable with. So not just dealing with my own grief, I had to deal with the girls as well. In the evenings I couldn't wait to put them to bed so I could just curl up and cry but when they did go to bed, I hated the loneliness. I hated the curtains all being closed because I felt shut in, but nor did I want to leave them open because we had a nosy neighbour and I felt like she was watching me constantly. No one ever really came to visit in the evenings, or rang to see how we were coping.  Everyone was busy with their own families yet mine had been ripped apart. Apart from Davids mum and a cousin who would come and pick the girls up and take them out, I never heard from anyone in his family. It was like once he died, I ceased to be one of the family. Sometimes now when I am in amongst them, I remember but then I also know it wasn't out of malice, it was just just thoughtlessness. Until you have been through it, you have no idea how it feels. So the loneliness was very real. In the beginning you have lots of visitors but it's after the funeral when everyone goes about their normal lives and you are forgotten or become a passing thought. We are all guilty of it, I know I am...I mean well and have good intentions but they don't eventuate. Something as simple as a phone call, popping round for a cuppa, being there available with a shoulder or a hug when it's needed. Maybe not waiting to be told it's there but just giving it. Taking something for dinner, it doesn't have to be anything elaborate - it is so appreciated. I'm not quite sure where I would be now if I hadn't had the girls. I had to carry on for them...they were babies and needed their mummy. I think I was an awful mummy for a while, snapping and being bitchy and it was something that my big girl said to me one night. She was really upset and she said"why don't you like us anymore mummy?" and honestly, if you had punched me in the guts, it would not have hurt as much. I remember sitting down with her and apologised for being so grumpy and tried to explain it was because I missed daddy and I promised I would try to stop being so grumpy. And I remember from that moment on, it was a turning point for me. I started counselling to channel and express my feelings and I knew my babies deserved to be treated with a lot more respect than they had been getting during that time. Grief is a terrible thing but we all need to get through it in our own way, but with the love and support of others around us.

Since being diagnosed with cancer, and at this stage, I can look back and say it has been interesting. During some of it, it has been frustrating, disappointing and scary. I have been told so many times that people don't know what to say to me, that they can't handle the fact that I have cancer. Well hello! I don't get a choice, I have no choice but to confront it each and every day. My girls don't get the choice, my husband doesn't get the choice, my sister doesn't get the choice. I remember when dad was dying, his mates from the RSA wouldn't come and visit him in hospital. It wasn't until a close family friend went down there and went off his rocker that some of them traipsed up to see him. It wasn't about them and not being able to handle dad dying, it was about dad seeing his old mates for the last time.

Even with this wretched crap inside my bones, I am still the same person, I still laugh and say inappropriate things. All my conversation does not revolve around what has happened but if you want to talk about it, I am happy to. I prefer it to be acknowledged...You are not going to hurt me or remind me that I have cancer by asking me about it. I don't ever forget it...but these days it does sit in the back of my mind a lot more. A simple "how are you doing" or "have you been to any appointments lately" - or the slightly harder questions "how long have you been told you'll live", it is human nature to be inquisitive and to want to know these things. If you don't want to talk about it, then that is cool too. I have cancer, it is part of me because it is in my body, but it does not define who I am...I am a person with feelings. And those feelings have gotten hurt because people that I expected better from just do not bother with me for whatever reason. A simple "hey, how you doing" works wonderful.

And I don't think you can get away with not experiencing some kind of change when you go through something like this...when you are diagnosed with some kind of illness regardless of what it is, where it will have a significant affect on your life, whether it be now or further down the track. It changes your perspective on things, on life. Some things become more important and other things become less important. I have very little tolerance for bullshit and negativity these days but I think I need to try and put a lid on it as my lack of tolerance can be slightly inappropriate at times. I recognise it but just a pity that those it is directed at don't get it. Human nature...

The moral of the story? Take a little time to think of others and show in some way that you care. It does not need to cost a lot or even take a lot of time.

And remember, this is my perspective only...

Tuesday 25th April 2017 - 4.54pm - ANZAC Day