They loom up in the mists of passing time, unseen and unanticipated… until they trip you in unforeseen ways. After all, no-one promised a smooth path; far from it, especially when the path chosen is an extremely lonely one… in the middle of the night, when your ‘brave’ falters under the burden of pain.
Thankfully, no matter what transpires, I have no doubts, no insecurities about my firmest decision to reject all chemical and otherwise artificial therapies. Once all the the facts I could find were gathered, researched and deeply deliberated upon, I made my decision with no qualms, no doubts, no ‘second-guessing’ the rights or wrongs of my choices. What a blessing that is… for me.
If there had been any lingering doubts, they would have been swept away as clean as that outward draining away of the sea before it returns with the lethal tsunami. ‘By WHAT?!?’, you may ask. By a mistaken belief I had that I should take full blame for accepting (without double-checking) that the side effects of a doubled increase of a new pain relief would have fewer side effects. WRONG! The side effects were horrendous, resulting in the need for hospitalisation and best medical efforts to meet my needs. A return home to nurse myself back to my version of ‘good health’ is seeing me winning this particular battle; slow as… but winning! Some deeper testing in just over a week will reveal much about the continuing residual pain, and a video conferencing with a pain management specialist a week or two later may help us all find some more acceptable answers.
BUT… the best therapy known to Man and Beast is surely what I look forward to in just a a matter of hours now — a quality time ‘getaway’ with beloved family and friends at two favourite beachside towns (near to each other) — with absolutely nothing more important to do than share love and some nurturing of this tired soul, with some of my dearest folk. Hubby, Kanute, is in need too. He’s having a particularly nasty time with the pain and disabilities arthritis provide (most generously in this changeable and unseasonal weather). A huge relief to us both is that all our laying hens are re-homed in a loving environment at another farm, not so far away. And bitter-sweet (a particularly large pot-hole), our beautiful, but highly energetic and over-enthusiastic Kelpie dog has been re-homed there too. It’s a truly loving home and plans are afoot to have her trained as a full working dog (the thing she’s always wanted and needed all her life, both before and since we rescued her from a suburban backyard). Best of all, she loved her new ‘Dad’ from first meeting, and vice versa. But with the parting came another kind of pain altogether. It will lessen, but it is also s-l-o-w as …
Two of our loved ones we will be sharing that precious ‘quality’ time with have been working particularly hard in the last week or so and are also sorely in need of some loving ‘time out’. I see a massive re-charging of batteries taking place in the gorgeous surrounds of two most special seaside holiday spots. I flick the ‘memory’ switch for these two beloved corners of our Earth, and at the first one, I’m a little girl again, taking a ride on the upper deck of a horse-drawn tram across a long causeway to the aptly named ‘Granite Island’, across a mostly calm and pristine bay; and I have swum in a rocky little cove there on its calm side, and revelled in the views from its rough side with a view forever and ever across our great Southern Ocean; and walked the long and windy path around the island, happening upon penguins once upon a time, and ever enthralled by the amazing rock formations, and a myriad of old black and white photos of our family enjoying ourselves.
A much closer recall of the second vista also involves these massive granite rocks, several beautiful bays further along the same shore, this time in our earlier married days, pre-kids, when we were dairy farmers less than an hour away, and heard radio reports of one of the earlier ‘social’ visits of whales to this well-known point. When we arrived, cars filled every available space at the lookout, and many people (large and small) peppered every nook and cranny amongst the rocks,and over them, to watch one of these mighty creatures… sleeping! You could have heard a pin drop in between the amazing rumbles issuing from this giant… it was snoring! Floating gently backwards and forwards with a quiet tide, bumping against the massive granite formations and blending with them as if it was just one more… it’s shine was the only giveaway.
Whilst I don’t imagine our current visit to embrace these small miracles of Nature again, a whole different one will be happening, with a special sharing of love and healing, that can only happen amongst people who care deeply for each other. Once again, as I’m sure many have already heard me say,
‘No matter what is taken from you in this Life, something SO bright and beautiful will be yours to compensate… in ways you cannot imagine.’
OMP Admin Note: Christine Larsen is a writer, farmer, wife, mother, and grandmother from Australia. She has never been homeless or had significant cancer – yet – but has had exposure to both – creating a great sense of empathy and desire to help in any way she can. She is humbled by the opportunity to give one of her stories to the sincerely worthwhile causes of Cancer research and Homelessness.
Christine contributed A Bonny Wee Lassie to the One Million Project: Fiction anthology.
To find out more about Christine and her work:
Christine Larsen, Author
Our short story anthologies written by over 100 writers are now available (links below) with all proceeds being donated to the charity organizations our group supports.
If you are a Kindle Unlimited member, you can read the complete anthology for FREE, and KU proceeds are donated along with the proceeds from the sale of our anthologies.
Our volunteer authors love to see reviews, and every review helps to make the One Million Project’s books more visible to Amazon customers, assisting us in our mission to raise One Million Pounds / Dollars for EMMAUS Homeless Programs and Cancer Research UK.