8 Aug 2020
With all that has gone on in the last couple of years, I’ve spent more time than some thinking about my funeral. When I was at my lowest, I wondered if anybody would even show up and when I’m feeling particularly amused with myself, I draft hilarious opening lines for my own eulogy. To be honest, I have a lot of opening lines and not much content which is the state of a lot of my writing.
So, while I’m planning on sticking around for as long as possible, life (and death) can be pretty unpredictable. And I really don’t want a funeral that’s followed by just tea and biscuits.
So here are 5 things I want you to remember (please and thank you):
Party
I’m a social creature so that means I want you frocked up and fabulous and ready to celebrate me. That means bring your own tissues, a texta and arrange to leave your car behind. Once we’ve got the ashes to ashes bit done, there is going to be eating, drinking and story-telling all through the night. In fact, if I die young, make sure somebody brings a video camera and records heaps of stories (good, bad and ugly) so my daughters can have them for posterity. Do not have anywhere to go afterwards… especially a meeting. No dead person wants to be fitted in between lunch and an urgent meeting that probably could have been an email.
Words
I love the power of words – the reason you’re bringing that texta with you is that since I’m going to be cremated, it can be a cheap old plywood coffin and I want every last bit of it covered with your great memories and declarations of love. I’ve told the girls to turn my ashes into jewellery so they’ll be carrying those words around with them for ever more.
Soundtrack
Music for me is something that I associate with feelings and friends – two things I think we should spend more time talking about. I’ve started a list of songs that can be played at the ceremony and then at the kick arse wake you’re all having. Normally I’d leave this to Nick but he’s going to be busy sourcing cheap arse plywood coffins and taking the girls shopping for outfits so whoever is in charge of music will need to tap him up for my Spotify login.
People
It’s no secret that I genuinely find people interesting and that I’m one of those strange people that loves to meet new people. I love the way people are different and imperfect and complex. I am the person I am because of the people that love me, have loved me, believe in me, and have believed in me. I am not only my experiences but their experiences. This means yes, absolutely, bring a date to my funeral – it’s going to be a kick arse party and a way to show them you know lots of really fabulous people.
Family
Turns out despite everything – I don’t believe in heaven, or a god, or anything more than Colin himself. I see grief simply as love with no place to go. There will be no seeing me afterwards or me watching over my three greatest loves from afar. So please, I want you to surround my three hearts with your time and energy long after the party is over so that the love that normally goes into me, and makes my world such a beautiful place, can be shared around. Because of all the things I’ve done in my life, the girls that Nick and I have made together are my best work and my greatest joy.
What about you? Is there anything you want to make sure people remember for your final celebration?
1 Aug 2020
Yesterday afternoon a man collapsed outside our school on his way to pick up his son. He was carrying his young daughter at the time. I didn’t see him fall, but when I crossed the road to see if I could assist, he was surrounded by some lovely, caring people who were looking out for him as he came to.
But here’s the thing – nobody had yet called an ambulance. So, I did.
Yes, it had just happened. No, we didn’t know why this stranger had collapsed.
Is this because I am a better person? No. Not even close. I knew a couple of the people gathered around him and to be honest, if I was going to collapse in the street, they are exactly the kind of people who I would like to find me.
But the thing is – that man could have been me.
When I collapsed last year on the bathroom floor, I didn’t know I was having a brain bleed. I didn’t know that almost 80% of people having a bleed like mine would die before they reached the hospital. I didn’t know that one of the biggest factors in survival rates for stroke, heart attacks and all manner of other things is TIME. The quicker you get proper help, the more likely you are to survive.
And that matters just as much for us young’uns as it does for our elders.
If my bleed had happened on a Monday morning and not a Sunday morning, it would have been strangers and not my daughters that found me. It would have been strangers and not my husband that I would have been relying on to call an ambulance. It would have been strangers that would have been responsible for whether or not I got to see my daughters grow up.
We are a society of people that don’t like to make a fuss. I could see the man was embarrassed as he came to and tried to work out what was happening. He was determined for his young son not to see him lying down. He was worried about his daughter.
I totally get that.
Seeing me carted off in an ambulance is something my children can never unsee. Following me with their father, behind the flashing lights and wailing sirens of that same ambulance carrying me to hospital is something that they can never un-experience. But I’m alive.
So, when I saw that man lying on the ground, I called the ambulance. I know he was young. I know it could have been nothing. But the thing I know from bitter experience is that calling an ambulance can literally be the difference between life and death.
I left when the ambulance arrived. By that time a friend had arrived, his wife was on her way, and the school principal and a teacher were there. He was surrounded by a loving and supportive network and like nearly all parents, he was more worried about his kids than himself.
But I admit to being terribly shaken and more than a little upset as the evening wore on. I know it’s because it triggered me, I know that most of the time people that fall down are not having strokes or heart attacks. I know that it is perfectly reasonable response to think before ‘bothering’ the emergency services.
But for me, it was a much more visceral response seeing that man on the ground. That could have been me relying on the actions of strangers one ordinary day.
One day, it could be you.
So yes, I called the ambulance.
Better that I made the wrong call, then no call at all.
24 Jul 2020
Anybody that has a child will know this phrase. It’s become the ‘go-to’ phrase we teach our children when they are on the receiving end of behaviour that is unacceptable.
And sometimes, granted, it’s the perfect phrase for toddlers. They are testing out their boundaries and what might be amusing to them, is not necessarily amusing to others. Like scribbling on your picture, or stealing sand from the castle you are building, or sticking their head in front of the book you’re trying to read. They are things you don’t like and you want them to stop it. These are also things which cause little or no harm to either of the protagonists.
But as my girls have grown older, I have become increasingly opposed to this phrase and the way children are encouraged to use it. Especially girls.
Stop It. I don’t like it.
It’s not scribbling on pictures anymore. We are putting the onus on our children to protect themselves from harsh words and physical violence by asking them to speak up. But we’re not encouraging them to shut down the behaviour, we asking them to appeal to an aggressor by saying ‘you have to stop this because I don’t like it’ and NOT ‘you have to stop this because it’s unacceptable’.
Because when you say ‘stop it, I don’t like it’, the entire messaging is that the ONLY reason the behaviour has to stop is because the ‘I’ involved doesn’t like it. Which is not true. The behaviour should stop because it is wrong. Full stop.
It opens up a whole world of hurt for the child at the receiving end of the aggression. They are frequently asked to validate why they don’t like being called unkind things, or pinched, or hit, or kicked. All of a sudden, they are the kids that can’t take a joke. The spoil sport. The crybaby. The boy that nobody will hang out with any more because he ruins everything.
When in actual fact, so often, the behaviour that is not liked is not good behaviour. No kid should be teasing other children about their sexuality, their weight, their haircuts, their lunch choices or anything. No kid should be cornering another child in the bathroom to punch them or pull down their pants. No kid should be kicking another kid to get a reaction. No kid should be horrid to another kid to show her that he likes her. “Boys will be boys” and “Girls are always bitchy” aren’t actually truths. They are excuses. All of it is just excuses. The behaviour should stop because it is wrong, not because somebody doesn’t like it.
I’ve long been a vocal advocate of children setting their own boundaries. If they don’t want to give somebody a kiss, or a cuddle, they don’t have to do so. Even if it’s family and friends. I am also vocal about ‘smacking’ – that’s not discipline – it’s violence. It’s you, the adult, unable to control your own emotions, inflicting physical violence against a smaller human to get them to do what you want them to do. It’s coercion. Did I always think like this? No. I grew up in the generation where respect was demanded, smacking was normal and we didn’t wear seatbelts. These days I’d be considered a bad parent if I let my kids in a car not wearing their seatbelts. It’s the same with respect and discipline. We learn, we evolve. We do better.
Both my girls know they have both mine and my husband’s full support to channel their inner Helen Mirren, and tell people that are doing them wrong to quite simply ‘fuck off’. And I’ll cop the consequences from the school or other parents on their behalf. They will never be in trouble for standing up for themselves or somebody else. Despite my enthusiastic championing of the direct approach, both girls have resisted all my efforts to get them to tell various people where to go over the years, demonstrating yet again that my kids are much better people than me. (Also, despite having such a pottymouth for a mother, they are remarkably resistant to using profanity.)
Stop it.I don’t like it.
Why didn’t she just leave? Why wasn’t she stronger? Why did she stay after he hit her the first time? Why did she have kids with somebody that was so awful to her?
As parents part of our remit is to protect our children. But there is such a difference between innocence and ignorance. We can protect our children while equipping them with the skills required to exist in the world safely. And part of that is teaching them that they are allowed to take up space. That they can use their voices. That they don’t have to justify looking after themselves or their friends. There are so many ways that we silence people in the world. We use shame and other social constructs to talk down children. We demand respect without giving it, or better still, earning it.
It’s so ingrained this instinctive behaviour to take up less space. To not be too loud. To have a reason for not wanting negative people in our space. I see it in myself when I try to get the children to move out of other people’s way on footpaths or to let somebody else go first when they’ve shoved in line at the supermarkets. I catch myself asking them to make conversation with people so they don’t appear rude. But sometimes, they don’t want to talk. Sometimes, the people walking four abreast should go down to two abreast so everybody can share the path. Sometimes, saying “Please don’t push in” needs to be said.
This isn’t a rallying cry for impolite anarchy or to raise a generation of selfish brats. But we need to be aware that in all that we teach our children, we aren’t silencing them. We aren’t raising children that are conditioned to accept the worst from other people and be quiet about it. We need to be thinking about how we teach our children to take up space in the world, as well as fit in with the rest of the humans taking up space. We need to be thinking about how we raise our children to expect kind behaviour from others as the default, and not get them to skirt around or ignore unkindness.
Stop it. I don’t like it.
What about just stop it?
