A Soldier's Mum

I am proud of him yet I fear for him. I want him to be brave but I want him to come back whole. I want him to be adventurous but I want him home. But most of all I want him never to be alone. On 11 th of November 1918 at 11 am the guns fell silent on the Western Front. On this day we pause and give respect and a minute of our time to the memory of the brave souls who went out and fought on our behalf. For many years I paid respect to this day but never with too much emotional involvement. Till this year – when I stood amongst my students, friends and colleagues pausing in respect and remembering the fallen young men and women while thinking of my own son who is in Brisbane, in the army and who has become one of those who will go out and defend our way of life if need be. This day took on a complete new significance for me. I realised that through my son I have become part of something bigger and more intangible. While I was listening to the haunting sound o...

I live for the phone calls. One week of parenting squeezed into 50 minutes of phone conversation. Every conversation begins with “what r u doing?” -Just in case I am interrupting him when he is with his friends. And then I have a list to go through – questions to be asked. How are You? What have You had for dinner? What are you doing on the weekend? How are your friends? Who do U hang out with? How is work? And then questioning the questions and getting to the bottom of the answers. And occasionally the unexpected statements that take my breath away. The statements that want me to say ‘No”!! But I stop myself and take a deep breath. I remind myself that he is experiencing life harder and faster than most people twice or three times his age. In the one year he has been away he had more adventures than some people in their lifetimes. So how am I to say ‘No’ to an idea that he is running past me, knowing full well that his heart is set on it, his mind is made up an...

I am the mother of a solider. In February my 18 year old son joined the Army and I joined the ranks of an elusive breed of women who raised their sons to be brave, bold, daring and adventurous. Women who brought up their sons to be gentle, caring and yet able to pick up a gun and defend the country in time of danger. Till he joined, I didn't know that this elusive club existed. Mothers of soldiers keep their sons profession close to their hearts. It hurts to talk about them knowing that they are not around. His room is untouched. The magazines and photos lie where he left them on the day he went off on the biggest adventure of his life. His room is like a time capsule. It is like living with a ghost. They are forever at the back of our minds, in our heart, invisible yet with a constant ache of missing. We as mothers are strong because we have to be. We have to stay strong for the other children, husbands and for the absent son so far away. We do our fretting and worryi...

A new game for Sunshine Coast Residents. Requirements 🇧🇬Working phone with 4G 🇦🇺Google 🇻🇬Container ship passing How to play: 🇨🇱Guess what the ship may be carrying 🇨🇽Google the name of the ship 🇬🇾Whoever comes closest to guessing right wins the round 🇮🇲The looser has to drink, pay up, do a nudie run on the beach after midnight

I did it. 'Survived' 8 days without TV! Ok, I cheated a bit and spent a bit of time (actually quiet a bit of time) on Facebook but it was mainly for 'research' purposes. 😜 My evenings were filled with: 🇦🇫socialising with other backpackers, 🇦🇽going for beach walks with my husband, 🇦🇱taking photos of the full moon, 🇩🇿catching up with our son and asking him 1000 questions 🇦🇸continued on my embroidery 🇦🇩read two books 🇧🇼went to bed early Yes I admit I spent a bit of time using my IPad and on Facebook.  🇦🇴But even there I made some friends, learnt something new, 🇦🇮made plans for the days ahead, 🇦🇬found a couple off apps that are relevant to our son 🇦🇹learnt something new about the Pad Time to go home and slot back into reality. Find out who is still on Survivor, what Brook and Ridge are doing and see what insanity is happening around the world. Have I missed watching TV? In one word - NO I read the paper, listened to the radio and focused what was clos...

For 18 years I had court side view of everything he did . Kind of, mostly everything. And one day, way too sudden he was gone. An other, much bigger family took him in and now I only get glimpses of his . I know that he is safe and happy, cared for and surrounded by people who love him dearly, but I am a mum and it is my biological right to be envious of everybody who sees moments of sorrow or joy I can't be part of. I treasure the moments I have access to and record them for safekeeping and for later viewing. I live for them and hope that the time between these glimpses don't become too long till I completely loose sight of him. It is time to part again and I will screenshot every Snapchat photo he is willing to share with me.

The first thing I noticed when we checked into our very basic backpacker accommodation was that there was NO  TV. My heart started to race and I had a mini panic attac. OMG - 7 days without my Black Box!!!!! What will I do??. Once. I sat down with a glass of wine I surrendered to the inevitability of my predicament.  Pondered my inability to envisage 8 days with my husband, myself and let the wine seep in my brain cells I started wondering how  dependent did I become on being entertained instead of using my imagination, creativity and mud husband's companionship to pass the time. I have become a zombie, a brainless consumer of forgettable crap. What to do, what to do with my 8 days? Start the Flow journaling project Sort my photos out on the IPad Play around with Phtoaltering apps Go for a walk Play Trivia Pursuit with my husband Read a book or two Finish the embroidery project I started 4 years ago Go explore the neighbourhood Take photos Sit on the beach with Husband an...

One more sleep and I will be on my way. I will be flying across the vastness of this land to see one of the pieces of my heart. One more sleep - I am counting the hours. The plane is booked, my bag is packed and cameras are charged. The excitement is growing and the butterflies in the pit of my stomach are wildly fluttering. I am only one sleep away from taking him into my arms. Only one sleep away from seeing him and observing how much he has grown, changed and matured. Once there, I will be counting how many sleeps I have till I have to say goodbye to him again. Every night's sleep will be begrudgingly surrendered to my tiredness because I don't want to miss a minute with him. Every moment is special and to be stored in the depths of my memories for it to be pulled out and analysed at a later date. And than the cycle begins once more. Counting how many sleeps till I can see him again. But at the moment I am fo...

My three Musketeers, One is in Brisbane One is in Bali One is in Boronia And I am all by myself.  Once upon a time, a couple of years ago I would have sold my kidney for a quiet night on the couch by myself, the TV and two glasses of wine. So why I am whining now? Because... I won't see the one in Brisbane till November I won't see the one in Bali for 10 days And I won't see the one in Boronia for 14 hours. So I have to be very careful what I wish for because the Universe always gives me what I am asking for. But I didn't factor in missing pieces of my heart and the quiet echoing through my mind. I think I will have the third glass of wine and wait for the sun to rise.

I am wishing my life away. All I seem to be doing is waiting for something to end and rushing into the new activity only to discover that I am waiting for that to end as well. I am waiting forthe day at my work to end people to drive faster or to get out of my way for the light to turn green for the kettle to boil for the wine to freely flow. I have been waiting for my sons to grow up and now I am waiting for them to come home. I am waiting for my boys to call or to come around and to give me a hug. I am waiting for the checkout chick to speed up and for the old lady to hurry the F.. up. And than I am waiting, stuck in the traffic, wishing I was more patient and more understanding. And one day the day will come, when I will be waiting for the End. And that will be the moment I will look back with regret and wish I had enjoyed the moments while I was waiting for something to end.

Gratitude is like the sky. Deep and endless. The more gratitude I show the more the Universe rewards me with Abundance. For me showing Gratitude is a way of savouring the fleeting moments in life. The moments I would take for granted and forget immediately while the big dramatic events and annoyances would linger for days on end. So I have taught myself to savour the moment. To slow down and to notice things and than to write them down. Now as I look back on my piles of Gratitude Journals and read the little moments I realise how special they were. Cuddles with the boys on the couch. Watching The Simpsons and eating popcorn. Building sandcastles and throwing the ball to the dog on the beach. Listening to the rain on the tin roof. Having dinner and lighting candles (because every night was a special occasion) Celebrating Valentines Day with the boys and me giving them flowers and chocolates because they are the loves of my life.  And the more I recognise Life's gra...

A country boy, a hillbilly and a girl walk into a bar ... Actually No, they walk onto a 10foot sailing ship. And No, this is not a joke in the coming. This is the beginning of story of adventure, bravery, teamwork and 'giving it a go'. And with the tutelage of two experienced seafarers this motley crew comes 7th out of a regatta of 54. What an achievement for them and the captains who took a chance on these three. These three Musketeers made not only the captains and the program proud but proved to themselves that you can achieve anything once you give it a go. And when the going gets tough and I ponder whether I should go and try something new or explore something unfamiliar, I will think of my boy, who says 'yes' to the adventure, triumphs and makes everything seem effortless.

Our whole life is spent bringing up and nurturing our children to become self-contained, independent and confident young people. We try to prepare them for life's challenges, to fly the coop and make a place in the sun. and One day the moment arrives when they are ready to leave the nest and it takes my breath away. separation is sudden and jarring and overwhelming. on a logical level this is the moment I prepared him and myself but on an emotional level I am nowhere near ready to let him go. And letting him go, I must. And I thank the Internet Gods for Facebook, Snapchat and Instagram where I can secretly stalk him and watch over him from afar and screen-shoot every picture he decides to share with me.

I should call him Wallie because all I do is looking for him. Every time he rings the first question I ask is not "how are You?" but "where are You?" I think he is in one place and he is miles away. The more disturbing conversations are the ones that start with "guess where I am?" They are the conversation starters that fill me with dread. And than I take a deep breath and let the story wash over me and I aim to find the humour in the situation and tell myself that he is safe and happy. I wanted him to be adventurous and spontaneous and he is both and more. And if it means I drink more to calm my nerves, than I believe I am doing the wine industry a service as well. So where is my Wallie? He is sailing on a 10 foot sailing boat around the Whitsundays for 5 days while getting paid. Why? Because he was asked and he said 'Yes" and because I always told him to always say 'Yes' because You never know where that adventure will take You....

It appears that technology is for the young and if we are baby boomers we get left behind in a maelstrom of URLs, password, PIN numbers, http and other acronyms that seem like a foreign language to me. With two teenage sons I need and have to keep up with technology. Else how can I be a part of their online lives and stalk them via the Internet? I have mastered Facebook and made some lovely friends since. Pinterest is my creative inspiration. Instagram and Snapchat are the sites where I look at party photos of the boys (and I leave you to fill in the blanks). The only site that has eluded me so far is Blogging. But no longer! While my husband is watching the Rio Olympics I ha e my own hurdle race to complete. I am open to tips, suggestions and grateful to the readers. Here goes the starting shot. Let's post and see where the road takes me.