There are, clearly times in our lives that become quite definitive;some take us down positive tracks, others down a negative track, which can be harder to get off.
In the last 17 years in particular, there have been many defining moments; some I feel I handled well, others I did not, but then who does? The death of my mother, after a 10 day battle with cancer was like a slap in the face with a wet tuna. How could she be gone? How could she be here one minute and not the next? Where did she go? How was I going to go on with out her in my life? Without our daily phone calls? Without our weekly shopping trips? How was I going to build a house, move away and do it all with two small children, who were lost as to where their beloved Nanny had gone.
In the years after her death, I have come to realise, that my mother's dying allowed me to have the courage to make decisions that I would not have made had she still been here; however that is another moment in time!
We were building a new house, owner building non the least, travelling up and down the highway with two small kids in tow, over seeing the sub contractors, running around for building materials, insulation, plaster moulds and fittings. How did I do it? I know not, because that time to me is very fuzzy. I think I was simply running on adrenaline, running away from my feelings, so that I wouldn't have to feel the same things that I could see etched on my father's face. My mother's death probably effected him the most. To hear him down in the garage, crying, so my brother and I wouldn't see him, wouldn't see his weakness, broke my heart and I realised how much my father truely loved my mother, even after all those years, even after all those fights, they loved one another.
And so 17th September 1993 became a defining moment in my life, yet I did not realise what a profound effect it would eventually have on me, on my children, on my brother and father for years to come. I needed to travel a path, but which one to take?
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