It’s funny how life continues to sucker punch you – just when you thought you were getting the hang of it.

They say that you can find parallels between any 2 things if you look hard enough, I generally agree – isn’t that kind of what those astrology sites rely on? Don’t get me wrong, I’m a sucker for some astrology, but I acknowledge that it’s a whole lotta generic.

Just over a year ago, my uncle was in the process of dying. My sister was overseas. My mum was spending most of her time at the hospital. I was running between home, hospital and my cousins’; because they were minding Mia while all of this was happening.

It was a shit time. I did the classic Tanya, and was strong around my family, but would break down when I was by myself. I was faced with this immense sorrow, and I didn’t get it. My life prior to all of this was fairly cruisey. I’d work, I’d come home, help mum where I could, was out most nights, and spent my money on whatever I wanted (within reason – I can’t afford a helicopter or a real dinosaur).

I was angry. I was sad. I was terrified. I still am terrified I guess. These past few weeks have proven that to me.

I read a grief analogy once, someone was asking how long you grieve for, and a person responded saying that grief comes in waves, at first they’re really frequent and hit you constantly, yet, as you go on, you get closer to the shore, and the waves don’t come as frequently, they slow down, but they never go away. They can still hit you with force. I’ve read a lot of quotes and things about grief over the past 15 years, but that one really hits home.

Grief has a way of compounding, it rears its head when you really have no time for it. You know, like when you’re sick….

I have gallstones, they suck big time but have largely left me alone, the past few months though, they’ve hit me. I had a gallstone attack a few months ago, and then nothing until last week. Anyone who has suffered an attack knows they’re awful, so I won’t go into detail. But it knocked me around for a few days and I couldn’t make it to work.

The day I couldn’t go to work, I was resting in bed as Mum got up and prepped Mia for school – this is fairly standard – I’m up at out by 7am most days.

About 30 minutes later I hear our front door bang and mum yelling out for me; she was sitting on the stool on our front porch, unable to move. Her hip had been hurting her pretty badly for a few days, and her legs gave way as she got to the front step.

I was able to help mum inside, and we called the ambulance, mum couldn’t walk a step without her legs giving way, but she managed to take some medicine and sleep for a couple of hours before I took her to the hospital.

And I was faced with an awful sameness. A seering similarity, and not a comfortable one.

As I picked Mia up from school, and dropped her at my cousins, I had the task of having to explain to her that Mum had to go to hospital, that she’d be OK, but she wasn’t well; the same words that we regurgitated to her over a year ago.

Mum had to stay in overnight, they had to do tests and said she needed to rest.

My sister was in Nepal, climbing some mountain or something.

It wasn’t until I got to the hospital, walked that same familiar path I walked last year, and saw mum in a hospital bed that all the sameness kind of sank in.

I left the hospital, on my way to pick up Mia, because it was important to me that she stay at home that night, that she didn’t draw her own parallels – she may be 6, but she understands.

That’s when I cried. It was brief, my sister was in a plane on her way home, my mum would be OK, Mia would be OK. Everything would be OK. It had to be.

I get Mia, we drive home, she asks where mum is, and I tell her; Mum has to stay at the hospital tonight, she isn’t feeling well.

She looks at me, with this deep sadness, a sadness that a 6 year old shouldn’t feel, and she grips my arm; scared.

“Oh no Tanya! I’m scared! Mum can’t stay at hospital”

“Why princess? Everything will be OK, she just needs to rest”

“No! You don’t understand! When daddy stayed at hospital they took his clothes. Mum loves her clothes”

It was kind of funny.

So yes, parallels. I could complain, cry, wonder how much more I can take, but that’s not me, because another parallel I can draw is that I’m still standing. You get up. You learn, you adapt. And you be fucking hilarious while doing it.

Cheers,

Tan