Camp Eden

Without Prejudice

26.06.2011

Off to Camp Eden today and I am up early, raring to go. Packed and repacked my suitcase, re edited my blog on the "little Grey Bank Book", which is a true story of a "little miracle" and I happily share it with others. The sun is shining and the sea at Suttons Beach viewed from the top windows of Dave's house is blue and as calm as a sheet of glass. My view filtered through Norfolk Pines that have stood for many a year, unbowed by wind or storm. Ramrod straight and taller than this 3 storey house, they face the sea resolute, strong, implacable, silent sentinel soldiers of green.

I shall miss this when I am back in cold, mid winter Melbourne. Miss the sun and sea and view.

It's been a year since I moved in the unit at the back of Yvette's. A year of upset and drama and fights and love. Love of my space, personally decorated by me. My first "laying down of roots", since Lauren's Death and Bob's and my divorce. I have moved more than 31 times since Lauren died, "Running, they call it", so the counsellors tell me.

"Running" from grief and pain and not having to deal with all that, making sure everyone else is OK. So I don't have to deal with the awful pain or tears of grief. I think I have escaped it, at times (Yeah right), it will be back, as it always is, at times like the anniversary or her birthday or Mothers Day or Christmas or any day. It's always there and finally in my unit I confront it and deal with it. It's never far away anyway. I only have to scratch the surface of the thin skin that covers my body and it is there, blood red and pulsating.

I call it the "Monster", grief. Whoever said its healing was wrong. It's a beast, that turns me, my rational practical self into a weeping mess, balled up in a corner somewhere, foetal like positioned and just when I think I have it conquered, it's back.