I had been looking forward to writing my next blog post, life had been ticking along, I was beginning to feel a bit more like my old self and we were off to Melbourne to hopefully find a new caravan since the let down with the original van. The Melbourne Caravan Show is massive we were pretty sure we would find something. We arrived in Melbourne on the Friday and found our way to our digs, a nice old pub in Footscray called the Plough Hotel, it was only three and a half km’s to the Showgrounds so a nice morning walk for us, plus the restaurant at the pub was great and the beer, although all fancy boutique beers, was cold. Our room was fine for the price so we just chilled in the bar looking forward to the next day when we would start our search.
The next two days were spent poking around what felt like a million caravans, I was in charge of opening cupboards, inspecting the finishes on the inside, checking the inclusions and weights while Rod got underneath looking at whatever goes on under there!! honestly some of them looked like if you drove it over a corrugated road it would fall apart, but there were some good ones there too and we had a shortlist of four which on Saturday evening over a curry became a two horse race. On Sunday it was Nova Caravans that won the day, great bunch of people, great quality van, right price, customised to suit our needs, just about sort of nearly in budget and it ticked all of our boxes.
What a great weekend, it was lovely to get away from Cairns’ stifling humidity for a few days, great to hang out with Rod just the two of us having fun and getting excited about the future again. I knew that on the Tuesday it was going to be the six month anniversary of Charlie’s passing but I was determined to try and keep positive, I was telling myself that I was starting to feel better and the six month mark was another reason to keep looking forward and to try not to go backwards, we flew home on the Monday and it was back to work on the Tuesday.
So much had happened in the past six months and most of it not great –
I lost Charlie – totally and without question the worst day of my life ever and even though I don’t have a crystal ball I know I will never have another day as devastatingly sad as long as I live, the bottom literally fell out of my world and I knew then that grief is an emotion that is totally physical, you can feel it like you can a physical injury, from that second on the old me had gone and I had to try to get to know the new me.
A few months ago I realised that even though you are related to someone it doesn’t mean they will have your back when you think they will, won’t pick you up when you fall, can never be the person you had always wished they could be, it’s hard to end a relationship however toxic it is, it bothers me still but I know in the long run I will realise I have done the right thing.
Our travel plans have ground to a halt, November was supposed be when we hit the road to live like nomads travelling this wonderful country, over two years in the planning, but our house flatly refuses to sell and to this day we are still doing the Saturday home open thing, though 2017 the Cairns housing market seems to finally be picking up.
Then the company building our original caravan cancel our order due to the owner and main builder’s ill health, we totally got it, they didn’t want to let us down, they knew what we had been going through. We saw them at the show it was good to see them face to face and let them know we understood their decision.
What the fuck was coming next?
So I get to work on the Tuesday, six months to the day that Charlie had died to know that my workplace had been broken into and my faulty hard drive that had been there waiting to go to our tech guy to transfer all my files onto a new hard drive had been stolen. That hard drive contains all my photos of Charlie, all my video’s of him growing up – everything, all my memories, it was all I had left of him and now its gone and I’m back there six months ago loosing him all over again, I feel like giving up, I try so hard to be positive, to not fall into the black hole of grief, to get up every day and function, to be just one step in front of the big black cloud that tries to envelop me.
I have a post doing the rounds on Facebook appealing for help, there may be a tiny bit of hope that we might get it back but as the days go by that tiny bit of hope I started with is getting smaller and smaller. I know the ‘person’ who broke into my work wouldn’t have known that by taking the little black box would have a devastating effect on someone’s life. But that doesn’t stop me from thinking that he is a fucking bastard who should learn to keep his hands to himself. My Son who was kind and gentle, he never stole anything from anyone, and even though he had it tough he didn’t show anyone disrespect. He is dead. The piece of shit who had no respect for anyone, including himself is still alive destroying peoples property, ruining lives and taking from others. It’s not fair. I don’t wish him dead though – I wouldn’t want another Mother to feel like I do.
Being the toughie that I am though I know that I will be OK, I have to be don’t I, if I curl up into a ball and give up that means I have given up on the memory of my Charlie, that I have given up on honouring him, that I will stop telling people what a great person he was. My future is now his future too, he lives through me so we have to make it count, we ARE going to sell our house and we ARE going to throw the dog and the cat in the caravan and we ARE going to go off grid and discover Australia and Charlie’s spirit will be with me.