Hell week

So this week of the third sadiversary was always going to be bad.
But it  was BAD.

I think we would have been OK but for the weather.  We have been drenched in over 200mm of rainfall (8 inches) in the past week.
Roads were flooded (not ours) and the problem of ground water seeping into my house (that I spent thousands fixing two years ago) resurfaced.

The day itself was sombre - my 8yo son H sobbed all the way to the cemetery then didn't want to leave.  K (10yo) flew into hysterics at the drop of a hat.  I bossed everyone around.

My head went back to that first day of knowing.  I NEEDED to be at the cemetery at the exact time of his death..... but  after a rough night and waking late, I knew it wasn't going to happen.  So I stressed.  So everybody else fed on the stress.

We had planned a lunch at a local cafe.  I wasn't hungry and ordered food I couldn't eat when I should have caved to the day and ordered hot, salty chips with tomato sauce instead of the salad I ordered.   With a chocolate milk.  Or had pancakes and hot chocolate like the kids.

Then it started raining.
and raining.
 And it didn't stop.

...and the water came in.

...and I swept and swept and swept and then swept some more.


....and I broke.

...and then a 10 year old girl told me she loved me.

....and she picked up a broom and started sweeping out water.

....and I knew we would be OK.  ....together.

Happy Unbirthday

Not our picnic, but one nearby.

Last  Saturday, we had a picnic for Greg's Should Have Been 50th birthday.

In a miracle of the Climate Gods, the weather was perfect even though it had rained solidly for the weeks beforehand and every day since (and up to 150mm / 6 inches last night alone).

I am glad we did it.

I'd forgotten who I'd invited, so as more and more people turned up, I was genuinely surprised and glad to see them.  Old friends and workmates gathered and remembered in just the sort of relaxed chat-fest that was Greg's style.

I saw some people who came to the funeral and then disappeared so I'm hoping that this has reset their minds so they know they can talk to me. 

The kids had a great time and I enjoyed seeing everyone.

But by the next day I was a wreck....

...and then today I walked downstairs to find my garage and store room sitting in 2 inches of (thankfully clean) water.

and I broke.

I feel like I'm 100 years old, everything is heavy, I am so tired, the kids are moody and I don't feel like doing anything.
...except I have had to throw away waterlogged things and try to move things out of the water.

I want to sleep for a week.

Yep - death week is here :(

... but I know it will pass and while I don't expect things to be "good", I know they will be OK again.

Uncontrolled Release

I wrote this post almost a year ago after some of the scariest days I have faced as a widow. Neighbouring towns were ripped apart by what was described as an "inland tsunami" a year ago today. Then, all that water had to continue down the catchment into MY town. My city flooded. Big Time. Many homes and possessions were lost but thankfully fewer deaths than our neighbouring towns. But scaremongers were saying that our dam may collapse which would have meant complete disaster and many, many more deaths. Today, I remember those frightening days and the lives that were destroyed during the floods of 2011. I hope you'll forgive the repost.....

There is no doubt that Wivenhoe dam saved Brisbane from greater flooding in January 2011. But it only covers about a third of the total catchment for the Brisbane River, so Brisbane still flooded.
I heard a hydrologist on the radio, speaking about the way in which the dam operates….. it is designed so that hydrologists can operate and control the release of water in such a way to both minimise flooding downstream while preserving the integrity of the dam wall.
If the inflow of water became so great that the structural integrity of the dam was compromised, the dam is designed to regulate itself and perform what’s called an uncontrolled release.
This is not the scenario that we ever want to see because the dam can’t tell what the tidal river is doing and will dump enough water to preserve itself with little regard to the river conditions. Specifically, the flood which has coincided with some of the biggest king tides of the year. Tides which needs carefully planned controlled releases of water to minimise damage downstream.
….and all of this made me think about grief…
I find I have to regulate the times during which I allow myself to wallow in complete despair, cry out in pain as the hot, angry tears course down my face. I have to swear and scream and tell God exactly what I think of him. I have to feel sorry for myself and rant and rage about how utterly horrible my life is.
Because when *I* regulate the spillway of grief, I get to do it when nobody can hear me scream.
The last thing I want is an uncontrolled release at school, or near the kids, with friends or while driving the car.
…and it sucks when it hits as I lay in our bed and see the empty space and that voice in my head keeps saying don’t go there, don’t think about the “multiple injuries”. don't do it now, you need to sleep, find a happy place, find a happy place, find a happy place….
Except all of my happy places have Greg in them. They are happy places BECAUSE he is there.
So I need to find another way of controlling the release. Of controlling the uncontrolled release.
Of controlling the other two-thirds of the catchment not covered by the dam on my grief.
and that is a hard thing to do.