The Blues

Whenever I think about where you are, I always imagine that there’s water around.  Is that heaven?  It seems pretty peaceful and I’m quite sure it’s not the other place, so it must be.

Strange about the water imagery, considering you passed away on such a hot day and were born into a dry patch. Look at beautiful Queensland on your birthday!  Too much water, but I suspect you’ll be helping out there, especially if there are kids involved.  Or maybe you’re busy somewhere else, a place of water, or none.  Where’s there’s a need, and you can do more than you ever could from down here.

This is what I choose to believe on your birthday. It’s not scientific or definite, but it’s comforting and we cling to it like a geek might clutch a new piece of technology.  You’d love the iPad, I reckon.  And the big-screen TVs for watching good telly or the best movies.  By now you’d be addicted to Six Feet Under and Breaking Bad and Dexter, would have read The Hunger Games and seen the new Harry Potter films — but you probably have already, even know what’s going to happen in the TV shows.  Whatever you do, don’t spoil the boys!

So when I think about you, it’s in a watery place.  I feel as though we could get to you if we needed, and you’re always wearing something floaty, like you’re some sort of celestial being.  Maybe you are, already. Were you promoted really quickly?  Like a mature-aged Hermione Granger in a university class?  Always so advanced and loving it.

Oh, and knowing it!

I guess you always had those illusions of grandeur, lady, tis part of the reason why we miss you.  The funnies, the mucking around, the pep talks, the interaction, the advice, the (gentle) teasing.  Gosh, I even miss the occasional telling-off, like the time you wanted to do those bridal shower games for Alli, I didn’t want to get involved (I was possibly contemplating the fatty cyst beneath my armpit and other important things) and you gave me the familiar ‘it’s-not-all-about-you, Rosie’ chat.

For the record, I still hate bridal dress-ups and silly shower games, but you know that and it’s never been all about me.  (Um, even though I want it to be).

Miss that, Lea.  Miss you.  But it’s not just family that do, you know?  It’s your old gals wot sing into spoons, your neighbours, extended fam.  Your friends from the arty community, the university-based young peeps probably wonder, as I do, just what you’re doing now.  There are folk you knew more casually, and sometimes when I run into random people, they’ll say ‘I often think about Leanne when she used to do  …’

What?

Well, things like creating Art Buddies and visiting Heide, making artist’s date and mothering kids, teaching, conjuring arty mess, watching Leonardo turtle in the back yard, chucking the magpies bread scraps out your back door, putting on your eye makeup before anyone saw you.  Writing and talking and thinking that maybe (one day) you would do more exercise, lol.  Using that amazing calligraphy pen, making that fruity nougat slice and attractive sausage rolls and allowing every visitor to feel as though they were really important.

And being the best listener in the world.  Dreaming and imbuing confidence, even though you mightn’t have had that much yourself.  Helping others to feel better about themselves when they might have felt quite shit.  Or lonely.  Or uninspired.

We looked to the sky today, Lea, and it’s cloudy but there are rainbow lorikeets eating the eucalypt gum things in the front tree and Pop brushed by a butterfly just as she was talking about your birthday.  You’re 54 today, jeez, so old, but forever young and smart, moody and funny, bitchy and wonderful and utterly human. We’re trying to live our best lives we can, to change where we need to, to forget old prejudices, to form alliances from the heart, to realize our dreams when we can.

We struggle.  We are utterly human, and here, missing you.  Happy Birthday x

I am strong when I am on your shoulders … but there are those days when I’m too heavy and I have to find my own way.  Which is bloody hard.

Related Reading:

• January 14, 2012 -- Lea
• March 7, 2012 -- Dying
• October 2, 2011 -- Aunt Loolah
• July 12, 2011 -- That’s What She Said
• October 27, 2010 -- The Other C-Word