September 2011

From what I understand, Catholics believe suicide is a mortal sin… it sends you straight to Hell, and there is no redemption.

Is that true? Do the Last Rites even cancel that out?

If so, that’s another strike against Catholicism. Sucking hard.

Years ago, a mother in Paradise was driving home with her children when she was hit by an oncoming car that strayed into her lane. She died. In a small town, that kind of pain is as insurmountable as everywhere else.

I drive past the same spot often. It’s four lanes now, instead of two.

I see a lump in my lane in the distance. It’s moving. As I speed toward it, I realise it’s rat, brown and not as large as a bush rat normally would be.

This rat has run across three lanes of traffic. I hold my breath as I drive over it… it freezes, and stays between the frame of my wheels, unharmed. Still frozen with fear…. the car behind misses the rat too.

I watch in my rearview as it scampers across the remainder of the road ,into the safety of the bushland.

How does that happen? A mother dies, a family suffers… and yet a rat makes it across four lanes of traffic unharmed.

I’m not sure if that points towards the existence of God, or the futility of Him, or if it’s just another random consequence of timing and eventuality.

A friend posted this amazing story, in way of a film clip,on her FaceBook recently.

For those of you who can’t be bothered watching, it’s the story of a family who, tragically, lost all three of their children a car accident in 2007.

In early 2011, they gave birth.. to triplets.

Another random event, or an apology from a higher power?

Small miracles, indeed.

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The worst of it was knowing.

This neighbour on my doorstep,the look in his eyes… I knew.

“Is she dead? Is she dead? She’s dead, isn’t she? Is she dead?”

He asks me if my husband is there and that feels like a punch in the guts. My mate Bunny is there, thank goodness, and he goes with the neighbour to retrieve my dog’s body.

I am shaking and breathing fast and in the middle of a massive, rolling flashback. The words coming out of my mouth, that sick feeling of already knowing… I’ve very much been there before (“He’s dead, isn’t he? He’s dead, he’s dead…”)

And it intensifies as I walk quickly to my neighbours- again, blessedly, my son is asleep. I talk to the nice neighbours nice wife, crouched in her driving, crying.

I’ve been there before too.

It’s almost a relief when I realise that this is a flashback… it’s nt my husband dieing all over again. These emotions, they are not as painful and intense as that flashback would have me believe.

Bunny buries Scarlette in the backyard, crying all the while. I buy a lavender plant today, and plant it over her grave.

It’s a relief, again, that dogs are buried quickly and have so little- a bowl, a bed, a stick and a ball, and that’s it. A bag of dog food to be passed on.

My son takes it so much better than I expected, so much better than me. The resilience of this child fascinates and terrifies me. He tells me it’s OK, Scarlette is in Heaven with Daddy now, and how can I not smile at that?

Later in the day, it plays on his mind, and he asks me- is he going to Heaven soon? What about me, his sister, the cat? No, I assure, we are not going to Heaven for a very, very long time, we are staying right here.

And I feel like a liar. Because I promised him that about his dog, just six months ago.

Thank you all so much for your support and love, as always. I’m still a bit flabbergasted… seriously, what the f*ck?

On the upside, the Bumpy thing had an absolutely fabulous birthday party. Evidence here provided by my lovely Sarie….

Cute, hey? More on the Bump soon. She’s a big girl now.

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