The Big One

$52 Million. That's a heck of a lot of money.

I like money, and it would always be great to have some more. But $52 million? That's a crazy big bunch of money!

BlogThis asked us what we'd do with $52 million. Of course, there are the usual things that I've always put on my winning-the-lottery list: my family, friends and I debt-free, a nice house and a really good holiday, some charity stuff... but those things wouldn't even scratch the surface. $5 million would probably be too much.

So I thought I'd do a little research. Just what can $52 million buy?

There are the spoil-yourself items:

• 13 Toorak Mansions ($4,000,000 each)
• 49 Luxury Yachts ($1,050,000 each)
• 260 Space flights with Virgin Galactic ($200,000 each)
  
• 523 BMW 325i - 2010 model ($99,400 each)
• 3255 Round-the-world Plane tickets ($15972 each)
• 21,675 iMac Desktop Computers ($2400 each)
• 23,183 Nights at the 7-Star Burj Al Arab Hotel in Dubai (Honeymoon Package $2,243 per night)
• 179,310 8 Course Tasting Meals (with wine) at Rockpool, Sydney ($290 per person)

The life-changing ones:

• 1 Island (Buck Island, British Virgin Islands, $48,000,000)
  
• 1,155 Harvard Law Degrees ($45,000 each)
• 85,245 Shares in Google ($610.04 each)

But really, who needs that much money? Think of the good you could do! $52 million would buy:

• 3 Aged care homeless centres ($16 million each)
• 14 MRI Suites (including the machine $3,500,000 each)
  
• 299 African Schools ($173,500 each)
• 5,200,000 gift chickens from Oxfam ($10 each)
• And a heck of a lot of hours of cancer research

I don't pretend to be entirely selfless, and I know that if I won that much money, some of it would be frittered away. But even in just this little bit of looking around I've done, I can see how much good some money would be for a lot more people than me. It's a shame that the people with all the money don't share it around a bit more. I wonder what the world would be like if they did?

Blog this also asked if we'd go public. Definitely not. For one, it would bring out the loonies, but also, if you were giving that much money away, you wouldn't do it for the fame, would you?

They say you've gotta be in it to win it though, and I don't buy lottery tickets. Perhaps I should, and spread the love a bit. Because of course I'd win! ;p

What would you do with 52 million bucks?

The AMAZING things that people do.

An amazing thing happened today that I wanted to share with you. And publicly thank the person that made it happen.

When I got home, there was a hand-delivered letter in our mailbox, along with a fairly significant amount of money. When I say significant, I mean enough to pay for the ambulance bill.

To say I was shocked is an understatement. At first I couldn't really grasp what was going on. When I read the letter attached, I cried. A lot. Partly because I felt guilty that someone would give me that much cash (there's that personality flaw of mine again!), but mainly because of the overwhelmingly kind act by someone who didn't need to make themselves known, that didn't need acknowledgement.

The letter was anonymous, by someone who has read my blog. I hope they don't mind if I share the final paragraph:

"So please accept this money as my 'random act of kindness' to cover the ambulance bill and know that me and my family are thinking of you all and hope that this gives you more time to think about & do the things that matter the most to you!!"

What a lovely, lovely random act of kindness it was. Generous? Absolutely! It really puts my 'spare change' random acts to shame! A bit naughty? Probably. I don't know who did it, but this close to Christmas that's gotta be a strain on the finances.

But I'm not going to dwell. I'm not going to analyze it to death or attempt to solve the mystery. Those of you that know me will understand how very difficult that is. How difficult it is for me to accept that someone can be that nice to me. How difficult it is for me to accept this kindness, knowing that I can't pay it back.

But I can pay it forward, and I will. I will keep being nice. I will keep doing kind things. I hope that my wonderful benefactor gets a good feeling out of this and I want to thank them from the bottom of my heart. You have truly made a difference today.

Thank you

Just when I thought it was over...

...we get the bill.

I'm heading away this weekend for work, with the boys joining me for the weekend (burglars beware - the house will be manned!). It's set to be a lovely weekend by the sea: quiet Jervis Bay (I've never been but I've heard it's lovely); a relaxing weekend; and free accommodation.

Which is good, because I have a heap of bills to pay. Why do they all come at once?

And that was OK too. I was prepared to have a nice, if a little more sensible than usual, weekend.
Then today, waiting for me, was the ambulance bill.

Remember a couple of months ago Anthony knocked himself out? Well today we got the bill. $770. Yay.

Yes, I'll admit I was naive enough to think that my taxes, or possibly my rates, paid for things like that, but sadly I was wrong. I guess I was also lulled into a false sense of security because it's been two months since it actually happened. But no, there it is. And they were lovely enough to make it due two weeks before Christmas. Thanks.

Don't get me wrong, I am very appreciative of what those people did for Anthony (and me) that day, and I think paramedics do a fantastic job. But nearly $800? Just before Christmas? Wow.

Never mind, we'll carry on, like we always do.
Luckily we've bought Oliver's Christmas presents (sorry everyone else, think you're missing out this year!), because it's going to be a little tight for a while!

On a brighter note

I meant to do this on Sunday, but you know me...

I just wanted to publicly wish my parents a very

Happy 40th Wedding Anniversary!!

Congratulations to my lovely mum and dad. Who have certainly been through some ups and downs over the years. But they have stuck together, and for 40 years! It's fairly rare in this day and age, so well done!

xx

Midlife Crisis

You're perfect, yes it's true.
But without me you're only you...
Faith No More - Midlife Crisis

Is it possible to have one at 36?
Don't worry readers, I'm not about to go out and buy a ferrari or find myself a toyboy!

Now I know you're all saying, she's had this traumatic experience, she's depressed, she's not herself...and you may well be right. But I wonder if I'm thinking differently because of these things, or if I would have come to these conclusions eventually anyway.

Please bear with me (or not - your choice as always), as I think out loud.

Of course nothing's ever simple with me; not lately anyway. I have some thoughts that run over and over in my mind, and then others that pop in and out that seem to contradict each other. It's very confusing sometimes, and probably not helped by the drugs I'm now taking. I can't make any sense of things by talking either, because of my general inability to express myself verbally.

Let me explain (because by writing it all down; and maybe even getting some other people's perspectives - I'm sure Anthony's sick of me babbling - I might be able to make some sense of it):

The one, overriding thought I have at the moment; and I don't think it's been brought on by the drugs or the depression, because I've had it for a while; is that I just don't know who I am any more. It's not that I have amnesia or anything, it's just that the things I want and the way I want to operate have changed. I know I'm still a mum, and a partner, and a daughter, and a sister, but I feel like I've changed, but don't know how I've changed. My opinions and values seem to have shifted, that's for sure!

Prior to Sam's death, I was probably a workaholic (I think I even thought of myself like that afterwards too, as this post seems to be saying). At the very least I was one of those people who spent far too much time working or thinking about work.
And it was OK. I justified it in any number of ways and, I thought, was feeling OK about it all. After all, I was still in the early stages of my career, and getting my head around everything. Of course, when I was still working hard well into my 4th year, I guess I knew it was more than working the job out.

But now, I don't want to be that person. I do like teaching, and I do like working, but all I want to do is be here for Ollie. I want to be able to walk him to school every now and then, or go to his assemblies. I want to have enough energy at the end of the week to be able to go for a bike ride, kick a soccer ball around, watch a movie with him without falling asleep. They grow so quickly, and I've only got one now. It's so hard to know I'm not there for him.
Of course, Anthony is here for him, and he is very lucky to have his dad here, I've always said that. But I want to be here for some of it too!
When I said this to my parents yesterday, they spoke of leaving me at day care and crying all the way to work. I'm sure this is pretty normal for all parents when they leave their kids in care, and certainly I already felt that way. But now, it's stronger. Maybe because I've lost one child already, and I want to hang on desperately to the only one I have left. To experience every moment.

Of course I realise that there aren't many jobs that pay well that also allow you these things. And that's part of the frustration. I do actually like teaching sometimes too! I love the relationships you develop with people; I love that you can do different things every day; I love the constant learning that's involved. But sometimes it doesn't seem worth the effort and emotional investment. Especially when you're trading off your family to do it.

To tell you the truth, as much as I didn't want to take the whole week off, I'm glad I did. It's not like I've done much, but it has been nice to be here not doing much. I've loved being here every morning and every afternoon to see Oliver.

So it comes down to this. What I keep coming back to; what I really think I would like, is to just work 4 days a week until the end of the year. It started as just a little thought, but now it is almost all-consuming. I think it's also a bit of a compromise for my crazed mind, because sometimes all I want to to is run and keep running! Go somewhere that there are no reminders, no stresses. I know that place doesn't really exist, so I've gone for a compromise aimed at saving my sanity. I keep weighing up the pros and cons, and it's about even, so I don't know where to go. Maybe you can help me?

Pros

• More time with Ollie.
• I can make an appearance at Ollie's school once a week.
• I can have some time to myself to work things out in my head (without Ollie/weekend stuff happening around me).
• I can try some other things (like maybe doing some writing - a book?, photography etc).

Cons

• We would be around $350-$400 worse off per fortnight (would not affect mortgage, bills too much, but would mean some belt-tightening).
• It *may* hurt my career options in teaching (although I don't really believe that, as I do have a fairly good name in the profession anyway, and it is only one semester).
  
• The school would be inconvenienced.

Y'see, to me, the main reason not to do it is financial. And the way that I'm thinking now, and have been for a long time, is that that's not a good enough reason. It is a problem, I guess, because we do have a mortgage etc (and my stupid HECS bill - if only I didn't have that we'd be all right!), but if there's one thing I know for sure, it's that family (and I'm starting to think, my sanity) is more important than financial concerns. Anthony has said that we'd manage if we had to, but I don't want to put him through too much belt-tightening if it's unnecessary for other reasons!

Can you see my dilemma? Of course, it is possible that this is all because I'm looking at the world through a different lens, and some of you might be able to help me see reason one way or another. Maybe you could add to my pros and cons list. All I know is that if I keep running it all around in my head, I'll go even more crazy!

How can we help?

This is a question we have been asked a lot. That, and "I don't know what do to/say", have been the words we have heard over and over again.
At first it was really difficult for me to respond. I didn't know what the hell to do either! And there's really nothing you can say either. It happened, it hurts like hell, we're so numb that we don't even register half of what's going on, there's nothing anyone can say.
Having said that, it was nice to know people were around. We received at least 100 cards, and just knowing that people 'had us in their thoughts' was strangely comforting.

What did help
We were overwhelmed by the support we received from people (as was mentioned in this Canberra Times article). It has always been hard for me to ask for help (even harder for Anthony I think), so I never knew the answer to 'what can I do?'.
Some people took matters into their own hands, and these were the things we found most helpful:

• Meals: a couple of people made, bought or organised meals for us. Cooking was the last thing I wanted to do, and it was important to keep eating nutritious (or comforting) foods. A couple of friends also made us cakes and slices, which were handy to have around, as there were always people dropping in.
  
• Groceries: Anthony's brothers were the best at this. They would come over with a bag of groceries (simple things to cook like pasta or stuff to feed the people that were visiting), or were happy to pop out for milk or toilet paper or anything we had run out of.
  
• Chores: Now many of you know I'm not the world's best housekeeper, so not only did I have to deal with the embarrassment of having people come into my dirty, messy house, but I also had to deal with them cleaning bits of it. But it was helpful to have someone do the dishes or fold the washing. I was even less inclined to do it than normal.
  
• Entertaining Oliver: Some of our friends and family took Oliver for outings. This was great for him because he got some "normal time", but also good for us because we had some time for talking/grieving without having to 'put on a brave face' for him.
• Messages: People kept leaving little messages for me on Facebook, or sending emails. These were great as I didn't have to talk to anyone if I didn't want to, but I didn't feel isolated.
  

Another thing that has really helped is company. In the first two weeks there were so many people coming in and out of the house it was almost overwhelming. Then it really dropped off. But just as we were starting to feel lonely, someone would call or come over and have a coffee or a drink with us. I hope it continues!
But what do we talk about??
I have a feeling (and it may be paranoia) that a few people avoided (or are still avoiding) us because they just don't know what to talk about. That's OK, I understand it would be difficult, and I'm not offended or particularly upset about it). The answer to that is everything. It was great to hear about things other than what was going on at our place, but it was also great to talk about Sam and what was happening too. The thing with that is, I guess, that we were able to guide the conversation around those topics. I don't mind answering questions or talking about Sam. In fact I'd rather that than sit with someone who looks uncomfortable and obviously wants to ask a question. So it was nice to sit with people and have real conversations that covered everything, including memories of Sam and stuff about his death, but also including other topics.

The sticky subject of money
We received financial support (in the form of donations) from lots of people. This was perhaps the hardest part for me, but also the most helpful.
Few of us plan for funeral expenses, but saving for your child's funeral is not something that ever crosses your mind. We're not broke, but we do have a fairly low income comparatively, and this expense was overwhelming.
When the funeral director suggested we ask for donations to cover expenses, I was a little worried. I am a proud person, and as I have already mentioned, I don't like asking for help. An appeal so public seemed horrific!
But he assured us that many people do it, and the people I have spoken to since say that it was actually a good way for them to feel like they were helping us. And it did really help to not have to worry about money when we had much bigger issues facing us.

So thank you again to all those people that helped us in any way. I am still writing thank you cards (I know some people have said 'it's not necessary' but it's important for me to do it), and hope that I don't forget anyone.