It's official. I can't even eat a family fave, shepherd's pie ever again. One meal was enough to ruin the day. Stupid pancreas or whatever organ isn't working properly. The pain is bad. Not hospital bad, but still pretty much up there on the 'how to poo on your day' scale. I had a blood test this morn, which included a test for autoimmune pancreatitis. Answers would be pleasant right now. Still awaiting my sedated, camera down the gob into my gallbladder and pancreas test.
And yeah, I've kinda been a bit upset with my dad. Was it dementia, was it old, hurtful dad resurfacing on our crazy road trip to rescue him? The one that scarred my young soul and left me feeling forever inadequate. Today, a card arrived for my Sarah, my baby from my first life. The surname on the envelope was wrong, so I opened it, thinking he'd meant to send it to my sweet Belle for last week. Nope. Poor dad. Wrong surname, wrong age. I can't stay angry. His memory is only working in patches. And that breaks my heart.
I'm supposed to be starting work placement at Kingscliff Primary School tomorrow. Based on how I've physically felt all week, and now today, I'm extremely nervous, especially about my ability to endure a whole day.
Top this off with discovering yesterday kids(?) had pulled out a whole line of veggie seedlings at the community garden. Don't even talk about the foot prints through the seedlings! Footpath people! Last week, some others tagged the bridge in bold, black spray paint, and you wonder why the heck you are bothering.
This is why.
Pain is the perfect fertliser for growth. You're either gonna grow bitter, or grow in strength. I know what I choose.
Be thankful when that stuff gets piled high! It's the perfect environment for great things to happen.
Sure, it's unpleasant to have smelly doo's dumped upon one's head. And yeah, it may for a season send people running. But watch them flock back in droves when the garden of your soul starts blooming again.
I'm now in a position where I actually have to slow down. This darn body is changing in many ways, so why don't I stop fighting it, sit back, and be the me a busy schedule suppressed? Novels don't write themselves, and paintings needs an artists passion.
I dearly love my dad. But this recent road trip revealed many things, especially how many dysfunctional behaviours I had adopted from him without realising it. It's time to break that cycle and embrace a new way of thinking. I am actually looking forward to living in a new level of internal freedom.
I'm passing my Learning Support Officer course with ease. However, now may not be the right time for work placement. And you know what, there is no hurry. For now, it's one day at a time.
And as for the garden...we will just keep moving forward. It will flourish and succeed. Sure, kids get bored and destructive. Nothing new there. If we keep pressing forward, it will be a place that attracts the right people, and blesses many.
So, for now, I will sign off and rest the body I'd rather trade in. And chat with God. Seriously, doing this alone would be mental!
Before I go, let me share photo's of some beautiful, inland trees.
I love that these trees are older than some homes in my town.
Their beauty comes from having endured decades and decades of different seasons.
I personally draw strength from that.
Gorgeous Glen Innes in autumn.
Hubby and Belle enjoying a glorious autumn day under a towering tree.
Thanks for sharing my journey with me x
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