Category Archives: Uncategorized

“I brung you into this world, I can take you out” – Bill Cosby’s momma, many moons ago.

We have had such a busy few weeks that it feels like the year is out of control.  The distance education experiment has not been the resounding success that I hoped, and I have to acknowledge my lack of understanding of how much self discipline J would have to exercise.  I think though that we are finally on the right track.  Last weekend, during a visit from my friend who has recently lost her husband, we discussed grief.  It was good to talk and during our conversation she asked me about my grief when Jeremy started his transition.

Honest reflection is a good barometer to test the intensity of what you have come through.  It was positive to be able to talk to my loving friend about how I felt, the anger at god for deciding that this would be my path, the bone-crunching exhaustion at having to face another challenge after so many, the pain at having to let secret motherly hopes and dreams for my baby girl go.  I found though that I was talking about those emotions in the past tense.  Because, like all things in life, grief loses its intensity in time; your reality reshapes around the loss and you move on.

Talking to my mum yesterday she was recalling the time when my younger brother called her “my mum, my me-maker” as an acknowledgement as a pre-schooler that he came from somewhere, specifically from his mum.  On Mother’s Day I wanted to take some time to reflect on the lives that we shape as mothers, the values that we instill in our children and how that is such a precious gift.  It is only as an adult that I can see my honesty, my passion for fairness and my courage to live openly have come from my mum.  I watch both Jeremy and Luke as they move away from childhood, Luke feet firmly planted in adulthood, Jeremy standing on that threshold.  I listen carefully as they talk to others around them, listening for tones that are harsh or at odds with what they have been taught.  Today I reaped a crop of love and joy, breakfast in bed, movie watching and a very thoughtful present.  I have been bowled over by their desire to show me how they feel.

I feel like a farmer who has gathered in a very special crop today. May there be more harvests, many more harvests.

Today is ANZAC Day, which has always been a special day of reflection in our home.  Jeremy’s father serves in the military, Jeremy’s early childhood was marked by Dawn Services, marches in major cities or country towns depending on our posting.  He attended his first dawn service at two weeks old, in a wee white jump suit and a special bonnet, bootee and cardigan set to keep him warm as we watched the sun come up at the mouth of the entrance into Jervis Bay in NSW.  We have many family members and friends who are either current serving members of the ADF or have served previously.

We have had an interesting couple of weeks in the lead up to today though.  Firstly, Jeremy has turned 17.  We had a party here and it was a fun evening, lots of food, a group of friends and a bunch of guys staying overnight.  It was a far cry from his 16th which seemed overwhelmingly sad as it came at a time when Jeremy felt very isolated.  Coincidentally a close friend of ours passed away on the morning of Jeremy’s birthday.  It added an edge of reflection to our celebrations, but our relationship with our beloved friend was such that I felt that he would have approved of our party, that lives go on.

As a result we spent our Easter on the road, Melbourne to Canberra after work on the Wednesday before Easter, funeral on Thursday in Canberra, Sydney on Friday to take Jeremy’s brother to his flight and then Sydney to the farm on Saturday.  Many many many hours in the car for the three of us.  Jeremy saw many people at the funeral that he hadn’t seen since he starting transition.  Good Lord we are surrounded with so many wonderful amazing people.  Through her tears, our friend who had lost her husband gave J the biggest widest hug welcoming him, other friends were warm and inclusive, and the girlfriends of his brother’s friends took him in under their collective wings at the wake.  At such a time of remembering Jeremy’s presence was welcomed and accepted.  I know that this is how it should happen, but the reality isn’t always that simple.

The friend that we farewelled had served in the Navy in Vietnam.  It was this service that led to his exposure to substances that eventually developed into myleoma.  He battled this cancer for seven years and when his battle ended on Jeremy’s birthday we took the time to have  a talk about his special journey.  Our friend was a kind loving man, generous with his time, experience and personal success.  He was open and honest.  Most of all, he would welcome everyone.  To Jeremy, who knew him from primary school, he was a loving gentle and, as a highlight, taught J to fish.  It was on one weekend away that 11 year old Jeremy caught enough fish for breakfast, a very special memory.

When you live your life openly you are exposed.  J and I experience this a lot, and we accept the negative because it is so overwhelmingly balanced by the positive.  You may never know the influence that you have on others, and I like to think that positive living leads to positive influences on others. Our last two weeks have been a roller coaster of shared joys and tears and celebrations and love.  Our reflection on what one lovely gentle man brought into our lives has given us so much joy, even when we couldn’t see though tear filled eyes that those times had ended.

I delight in my offspring.  Jeremy is a bundle of passions, opinions, sardonic observations and wild exaggerations.  I hesitate to rein him in but sometimes he has to be reminded that accuracy wins more brownie points in interactions with others than global statements.  The current hair colour is blue and the sides of his head received the bare blade of the clippers treatment on Monday.  I love hanging out with him, he said recently that his friends remark on our positive relationship.  Every day joys make life easier.

The term is now into week 8, time has flown for us.  But I noticed last week that J was pouncing on me the minute that I walked through the door.  Jeremy has always wanted to unload at the end of the day but this behaviour was different. Now Jeremy is very sure that schooling from home is the right course for him.  He is certainly very settled and academically all is going well.  But it seemed that he missed the interactions that go with going to school, even though so many of those interactions were stressful.  So on went thinking caps because if J was struggling with isolation during the first term then we had to do something concrete to address that.  Jeremy does have a number of regular social catch ups, so we talked about how important it was to ensure that he could get to those, Taco Tuesday, Friday night bbq’s by the Yarra, We have a plan!

Then, as sometimes happens, a colleague rescued a little black cat and couldn’t keep it.  She was smitten by this little cat and talked about how pretty the cat was and how sweet natured.  It has been 12 years since I dipped my toe into cat ownership, and that last time was disastrous. Yet, Jeremy has longed for another cat.  So I made a quick call to him and then made the decision that we should take this little one in.  She is now known as Salem and her green eyes are as amazing as Jeremy’s grey ones.  They are having so much fun, Salem loves cuddles and pats and curling up next to Jeremy.  She has become more settled and adventurous every day, walking along the back of the couch, peering onto plates to see if there are any treats for cats, and she talks and talks and talks.

Right now, Salem is settled on Jeremy’s knee, they have had a talk about cats on the internet (a subject that Salem showed little interest in), Salem has tried to convince us that chocolate ice cream is a cat treat (she has been told otherwise) my baby is revelling in love and a little rescued cat knows she is the newest princess in our palace.

If every person took responsibility for their words and actions, if every person made a commitment to call bullying, negativity, nasty mean behaviour for what it is then so much intolerance and negativity would be wiped away.  To do this though, you have to be brave, brave enough that when you do name the behaviour and receive the inevitable backlash you can still stand tall, head held high, knowing that what you do is a step towards a better world.

There are times when being brave is easy, when passion stirs you to actions you couldn’t imagine yourself capable of doings.  Times when you come out fangs bared, claws out ready to draw blood, ready to take down the enemy.  This bravery is spurred by adrenaline and isn’t always rational, it is the fierce primal protection of that which you hold dearest.  Then there is another kind of bravery, the kind that makes you get out of bed and face the world when all you want to do is curl up under the covers.  Jeremy demonstrated this kind of bravery over and over last year when facing school.  Then there is the quiet bravery, that stands against injustice, unfairness, discrimination and says no more, then says again no more and won’t go away.  I see women be brave all the time for others, but being brave for yourself is a different less intuitive skill.

I’m not brave, not all the time.  I try, but there are times when bravery fails me.  Or maybe it is better characterised as strength failing me.  I feel like I have been walking in shadows for a long time, sometimes it’s brighter than others, sometimes it’s darker and that’s ok.  I am working towards a more often brighter than not future.  As Jeremy started to generally be brighter, happier, more content I had time with my own thoughts and faced the realisation that I had expended so much energy in parenting and working and running a home that there was no energy, no mental space left for me as an individual.

My mind has dark corners and old wounds that have festered unexamined.  I feel them as a palpable presence like unwanted visitors proclaiming their opinions in loud and insistent voices.  They have been companions for so long I have altered my reality around them.  Jeremy has such a long journey ahead and I see my role as being able to support him through that.  I will need to be resilient and inspiring and wrap a physical and mental blanket around him when needed.  Intuitively I feel I need to shine light into all the dark corners rout out the negative and to heal.  I need time to get to that position of strength, and time thankfully is something we have.  The first steps have been so confronting, leaving me feeling empty, and fragile.  But each time the light is brighter.

Standing on the precipice of transformation is scary,

So we have made it through Christmas and New Year, a visit from beloved grandparents, a time for reflection of the year that has passed and anticipation of the year to come.

In a quiet moment my mum said to me “Jeremy is so much more relaxed, so happy, it is so wonderful to see”.  I didn’t need any other present, well ok I didn’t turn down any other presents that came my way but that comment from my mum was a most precious gift.

Their visit wasn’t all smooth sailing.  My darling dad used “she” in reference to Jeremy about a million times, but in true form when we gently pointed it out he took Jeremy aside, apologised and tried to reverse a habit of nearly 17 years.  What was evident was the love that is in our home and our support for my baby.

In  no small measure this support comes from Jeremy’s boyfriend, Lachlan.  From my memory of young men, most would not have coped with the constant companionship of grandparents.  Lachlan rose to the occasion beautifully, my parents were full of praise.  We as a group also agreed that Lachlan has the patience of a saint because our J can be hard work at times.

So I wanted to acknowledge that Jeremy’s progress, his stability, his confidence has been achieved with a substantial helping of love and support from this lovely young man.   Thank you Lachlan xx