Merimbula (again!)

Last week, we went to Merimbula for the 4th time in 3 years. We do like it there!

I had been a bit worried before the trip, as the caravan park had decided to move us off the site we'd booked, to one much further away from everything! But, I kicked up a mild stink and by the time we got there, they had a nice flat site for us about 20m away from the pool and right in the middle of the park. So they came through for us well. We've always been pretty happy with the park, so I'm glad they could sort us out and not sour our experience!

After the success we had with the borrowed one last year, we bought a camper trailer for a very good price from my friend (and workmate) Clint.
This is what it looked like set up:

 It's a great trailer: it has a HUGE king size bed,

plus space inside for a queen and another single if you wanted. Then there's a big enclosed annex, which was great for sitting inside, but still being in the shade or out of the rain. There are also two more annexes that can be attached, but we didn't need them (nor could we fit them on the site!).

We did lots of different things, including a couple of firsts for both Oliver and I. For me, it was the first time I'd ever ridden a bobsled (lots of fun!), and for Oliver, it was both his first waterslide,

 But Dad had to go on first - ('cause mum wasn't quite ready to conquer that fear yet!):

 

 He also went boogie boarding for the first time:

He was pretty amazing; he kept getting knocked down by the waves, but got up again and again. He got some good runs in too! But the next time we went, the waves were a little bigger, and he balked. Perhaps too much water/sand in the belly the last time?

We went to Magic Mountain (where the water slides and bobsled were), and played some mini-golf (I was quite amazed at how well I went, even got a hole-in-one!), and rode the go-karts.

This is sooo cool mum!

Pure concentration.

Magic Mountain was also where Samuel first got into waterslides too, the same way that Ollie did 7 years later. Anthony went on with them both, and from then on, they were hooked. So there were some nice memories made that day.

We had bought a little blow-up dinghy, and took that out into the lake a couple of times. Anthony enjoyed it very much.

 

We built a few sandcastles (as we always do):

And spent a lot of time in the pool and the games room at the caravan park. Oliver's pretty good at air hockey!

There was a cracker of a storm on Friday night, where Anthony and I spent a long time waiting with our cameras to capture the lightning. We need some more practise, but we at least got one each!

Mine

Anthony's - his was better!

Despite copious amounts of zinc and sunscreen,

 

We still came back brown as berries (I've never understood that expression!), but we had lots and lots of fun, as you can see by Oliver's face: 

 

Still, next year, we've decided to go somewhere different. We're thinking maybe Kiama or somewhere around there. I'll keep you posted.

The Dragonfly

You may (or may not) have noticed a dragonfly on the mural. Today I'd like to tell you about it.

A few days after Sam's funeral, a good, old (not old as in elderly, but old as in I've known her since high school) friend called and told me she was going to drop something off for us. A little while later she drove up, put an envelope in my hand, and then drove off again.

In the envelope was a letter, and a lovely dragonfly ornament (which now hangs just below a framed photo of Samuel - the one we had on display at his funeral - in our lounge room) :
In the accompanying note, my friend told us about how at the funeral, she and our other friends watched a dragonfly fly into the chapel, perch on the curtains (near where Samuel's friends were standing) for a while, and then hover over our (Sam's family) heads. Apparantly it did so for a while, and then flew away.

I had never noticed the dragonfly, and neither had Anthony or Oliver, but my Dad had seen it near the curtains.

In some cultures, dragonflies are a very significant. They are different things to different people, but commonly they are said to represent renewal, positive forces, and change. The native Americans believe that dragonflies are the souls of the dead.

Now as I have said before, I'm not an enormously spiritual person, but for some reason this story touched me. Some of it was that my lovely friend had also been so touched by this that she went out of her way to find the dragonfly ornament, but some of it was also a hope that the dragonfly was (in some way) telling us that everything was OK.

Maybe it was just a coincidence (there are many water features in the grounds of the crematorium), but then again, maybe it was the spirit of Sam. I'm not prepared to discount that altogether, even though I don't know if I understand it.

Whatever the explanation, all of us were happy to take on the dragonfly as a symbol for Sam. Dragonflies are beautiful things, and it gave us something tangible to plant a memory in. Some would say we are silly, superstitious, maybe even hypocritical considering my feelings about religion and 'the soul', but it has been a nice symbol to use.

I felt so strongly about it, that I bought this brooch in Merimbula (please excuse the picture quality, I will take a better one later):
I never buy jewelery, in fact, I hardly even wear it, but I was drawn to this and Anthony convinced me to buy it. I think it's beautiful.

It's funny too, we never noticed (or saw) dragonflies in the past, except this one that landed on the door of our unit when we first went to Merimbula in 2004:
But now we see them everywhere. I know it's because of a consciousness thing (we're subconsciously looking for them?), but it still gives us a little thrill when we see one. When we went to Merimbula in January, one was flying along with us as we drove through Mimosa Rocks National Park; when we went blackberry picking recently there was one just sitting on a plant; and Anthony told me about the one that hovered around him while he was working in the back yard, then hovered over the playground (we have a big playground in out backyard that we bought when Oliver was born, so that Sam would have something to do if baby care got too boring for him), flew around the yard a bit and then flew off.

Each time this has happened we think of Sam, and a little bit of us believes that it's him keeping an eye on us. I kinda like that he is...

Still Here

No, I haven't disappeared/lost interest.

The boys and I went to Merimbula for a few days, so I took a break from blogging.
My lovely sister-in-law Laura won some free accommodation on a website, and she was kind enough to give it to us. (thank you again Laura!)
We stayed in the same place we have stayed in the last couple of times in Merimbula, but this time we stayed in a cabin. It was very nice, with a big spa and a view of the ocean. There were also lorikeets that visited every day (you'd think Anthony would have had enough of parrots at home, but no...)

The main reason we chose Merimbula again (apart from because we really like it there, it always feels like home to me) is that Anthony was going to get a tattoo. In January when we visited Merimbula, we found a nice little tattoo studio in Pambula. As soon as we walked in there we got a really great vibe. They were friendly and chatted to us, and most of all it was clean!

So we went back there, and on Wednesday Anthony got his tattoo:

It looks a bit dark now, as it still has to heal and settle, but it is an amazing likeness of Samuel. It's something Anthony has been keen on from the day Sam left us, and as you can see he is very happy with it. I think it looks fantastic!

The trip was good for us I think. Tomorrow is Sam's birthday and if I had been here all week, I think I would have gone a little mad. I was cranky and teary on Sunday before we left, and then cranky and teary again this afternoon when we got back. I miss Sam a lot, and his birthday really makes me feel it more. But I think tomorrow will be OK. I will write about it (and some other things) soon.

I can't think of a title for this one

Healing?
Because Samuel died suddenly, unexpectedly, there were a lot of things left undone. And because it was the first week of the school holidays; the week before Christmas, there were a lot of things that involved Samuel.

So instead of having a little bit of time to think about how we would deal with these issues as they came up, there were several to deal with, one on top of the other. And we had to decide - quickly - whether to go ahead or not.

Christmas
Christmas Day was just three short days after we lost Sam. The natural instinct was to curl up in a ball and shut out the world, but we had Oliver to think about. To a six year old, Christmas is everything, the biggest event of their year. We couldn't take that away from him, he'd just lost his brother.
So we decided we'd try to keep it as 'normal' as we possibly could. As many of my friends already know, I'm not a big fan of Christmas at the best of times. So needless to say, I found it very difficult to muster any enthusiasm for the day.
But we did it anyway. As I mentioned in another post, Oliver was over-the-top in his enthusiasm, and seemed to enjoy himself. My wonderful parents brought the whole lunch shebang with them, and we had a few visitors throughout the day, so we stumbled through and it was OK.

New Year's Eve
Normally the week between Christmas and New Year is fairly quiet. Unfortunately we had to hold a funeral in that time. (Some time I would love to share my memories and thoughts about that day, but not today).
Our New Year celebrations in the last few years have been a bit quiet. We had a party a few years ago that no one turned up to (yes I know, lesson learned) and since then have just spent it at home with a good friend or two. In the last couple of years, Samuel had invited a friend or two over, which was nice: too young to drink, but old enough to have good, clean, independent fun.
This year, we decided to revisit a New Year celebration from a long time ago. One that was accompanied by good memories.
When I was pregnant with Sam, Anthony and I went with Sally down to the river. We had a lovely evening talking and watching the storms (I can't remember much else - it was 14 years ago and the intervening years have been quite eventful).
So on New Year's Eve 2009, we packed Oliver and the dogs up in the car and went down there again. Sally and Jack came with us, and we got our feet wet. I won't say it was lots of fun. But it was nice.

Merimbula
Last year, we had a great holiday at a very nice resort park in beautiful Merimbula. The boys and I camped there for a week, and Anthony joined us for a couple of nights (he had just started a new job and couldn't get the time off).

Sam and Ollie on the beach at Merimbula in January 2009

We liked it so much we booked again. It was paid for before summer even started, we were that keen! Samuel loved it there (we had stayed in Merimbula a few other times before that trip). He was a real water baby, and loved the beach.
So when mid January rolled around this year, we had to make the decision: go and have the holiday or cancel it and stay here?
Well we did go. We talked about the pros and cons, and decided that:

1. Sam would not approve of us not going;
2. If we didn't go on this one, we probably wouldn't go the next time;
3. It would be good to get away.

We also decided that we wanted something a bit more comfortable than a tent (and easier to pack up if it all got too much). Luckily we have some wonderful people in our lives, and my parent's neighbours Brian and Keryn (who I've known since I was 12) loaned us their camper trailer. This was a big deal as those things are NOT cheap!
But it did make a difference, we were very comfortable. I think we probably would have left early if we were in a tent. We loved it so much, we are planning on buying one (just gotta save the $18000-odd bucks we need!)

It was hard, especially in the evenings where there wasn't much to do except sit and talk or reflect. There were a few tears (actually there were a lot), but it was also a good chance for us to talk about the good memories we had of Sam. Not having 'regular life' going on around us, not having the TV or the Playstation going all the time, not worrying about work or the weeds in the garden or the pets, just sitting, talking under the beautiful starlit sky.

During the days we kept busy.

We spent a lot of time at the beach or in the pool, and just did things together. We must have collected about a million seashells, as you can see in Oliver's bulging shirt:It would have been better if Sam was there too, but it was still nice. A good way to bring out the smiles...


 Them Crooked Vultures
Another thing that I was looking forward to was going to a concert with Sam. It was going to be his first, but James pipped me to the post when he took Sam to Green Day. Not that I mind, in fact I'm very grateful that he did.
As many of you know, I'm a big Foo Fighters fan, more particularly Dave Grohl, who I think is a very talented musician (and very nice looking too). I also have loved Led Zeppelin for a long time, but was a little young when they toured Australia (actually, I think their last tour was 1972, so I wasn't actually born yet, but I have heard rumours that they are reforming and will tour again!)

As I have talked about before, Samuel and I share a musical bond, and thankfully he liked both of these bands as well. So when I heard that Dave Grohl, John Paul Jones (bass player from Led Zeppelin) and Josh Homme (singer/songwriter most famous for his band Queens of the Stone Age) were forming a band, I was excited.
Anthony, who has been my faithful companion at many concerts and festivals over the years, was not interested in seeing Them Crooked Vultures, but it was too great an opportunity to pass up, so I decided to buy tickets. This was before this band had even released one song mind you; I was basing my judgement on the talents of the other three bands. Samuel said "I'll go, mum", and I thought: what a great idea! So I bought him a ticket.
In the mean time, they released an album, and we both liked it (thankfully) and we were looking forward to going.

So as the gig approached I had to decide (again) whether it would be better to go or stay behind. In the end I decided once again that Samuel would be pretty peeved if I didn't, so I asked James to join me.

We had a good trip together. There are 12 years between James and I, which he never fails to highlight. "It'll be like going to concert with my mum" was one lovely comment. But we did have a good time, and I think I had convinced him by the end of the night that I was cooler than he thought. Mind you, when I was happy to wait 1.5 hours to catch a glimpse of Dave and the others at the stage door, in the hope that I would get to say hi, maybe tell him about Sam (only to have them jump straight into a waiting car and take off without so much as a "Hi"), he may have suspected I have a creepy side. (Wait until I tell you about the emails I wrote to Sam's favourite musicians - I suggest you reserve judgement on my sanity until then, dear reader!)

But it was a great gig. I haven't been to a small gig for a while, and managed a great spot at the front (and off to the side) where I could see Dave play the drums and hear the awesome music too.
There were a couple of teary moments: when the support act finished and the lights came up, I saw all the excited people and thought about how much Sam would have enjoyed the experience. I cried a bit then (James was in the toilet and came back saying "I can't leave you alone for a minute", but was very nice and gave me a hug), and then during Sam's favourite songs "Scumbag Blues" and "Bandoliers" (well they were getting the most playtime on his iPod), I shed tears.

I had made us special t-shirts, with a picture of Sam on the front. I felt very proud wearing it. I had hoped that I would be able to get it signed, but have to make do with a patch I bought. The shirt will be coming with me to every concert now. I'd hoped to take my camera in to document the night, but 'The Band" wouldn't allow cameras. Cameras on phones ok, but not cameras. Oh well.


And maybe the hardest one?
The day Sam died, he and my mum and I were going to go and see "Masterpieces From Paris", an exhibition at the National Gallery of Australia. I had always wanted to see 'Starry Night' up close (it, and the other, more famous 'Starry Night' painting are among my favourite Van Goghs), and was pretty excited about it being in Canberra. I was surprised when Sam wanted to come.
Well we didn't go that day, and for a long time I didn't know if I could. But mum and I went yesterday, and I'm glad I did. It was hard (and they always are), but I'm glad.

It's funny, we've said that for all of these events: it was hard but I'm glad I did. I guess that's what the healing is all about.