Bali Healing

What a week I've had!

A last minute trip to Bali for work (sucks to be me), but actually right now, it does suck to be me. I lost my mum a few weeks ago and I wasn't sure being on this trip was going to be right.

With a last minute trip, that means last minute scheduling which makes it all a bit more stressful. For me though, this is the last week I could make this trip before March 2016, so it had to be done and I decided to view it as a nice distraction from my sadness.

And it worked.

Bali has been the most healing place for me to be this week. Not only have I ticked off my work schedule with honours, I've had the time and distance to heal.

Like so many Australians, I cut my teeth on overseas travel by coming to Bali when I was 18. I came with my bestie Kylie and we partied hard after getting over the culture shock. I've been returning back for work or play for the past (cough cough) 20+++ (++) years

I love Bali. I love the burning smells of incense and the earthiness of everything. I love the humidity. I love the gentleness of the Balinese people. I love the motorbike noises. I love the tripping hippies (but not the bogans). I love the frangipanis in the swimming pool. I love the sunset on the beach. I love the heady fragrance of holidays.

When we landed on Sunday, it felt like home. I felt wrapped in comfort.

And even with my heavy schedule of appointments, and sitting in traffic jams for hours - I was surrounded by truly kind and nurturing souls who kept an eye out for me.

I detox'd from caffiene, carbs and sugar (and still allowed myself some decent cocktails). I was massaged and skin-loved and had my nails done beautifully. In black - to honour my grieving.

I was checked in on. I was talked to. I was looked after.

The inner hippie chick has surfaced once again. I'm zen and blissed out.

My heart is in a good space.

Dedicated to a beautiful and nurturing nurse (Tamara) who accompanied me.

Grief, Distractions and Healing

Grief sucks. 

Its irrational and unpredictable and unreasonable. 

My mum died two weeks ago and I don't think it's hit me yet. I haven't sobbed uncontrollably or broken down on public transport. Sure I'm deeply sad, but I haven't consumed my days with looking at photos of her, rehashing old memories. Listening to music to remind me of her. Listening to my voicemail to hear her voice one more time. 

I haven't sobbed until my eyes were dry and my ribs were aching. I'm not filling my days with thoughts of the future without my mum. 

I didn't go out and get a tattoo. 

The taste of my tears is not a constant. 

This is what grief is like in the movies and I haven't done this and yet I'm not the same as I was three weeks ago. My mums death has shifted something so deep in me.

I've changed. I'm different. 

I've had conversations I wouldn't normally have had. I've used language I wouldn't normally use. I thought things I've never thought before. I've felt things I never felt before. I'm not even making sense to myself most of the time. This may be all a distraction to avoid the process, but I have no idea why I'm being like this. 

I'm in Bali for work, only a couple of weeks after my mum fucking died. How is that normal? Who goes overseas after just burying their mum? 

What the fuck is wrong with me? 

Being in Bali feels so zen and peaceful and right. It's work, but my downtime is nice. I'm being kind to myself. I'm being healthy. I'm focusing on only me. I'm ok with swearing. I'm ok with my thoughts. I'm ok with where I'm at and what I'm doing. 

And yet it all just sucks and I'm preparing for the flood of grief. 

Sitting in the front row.......

I never want to sit in the front pew of a funeral ever again. 

I never want to write a eulogy ever again. 

I never want to stand in front of a crowded chapel and read heartfelt words through tears, struggling to breath as I say goodbye in an honourable and dignified and graceful way. 

I never want to be that kind of "strong" ever again. 

I never want to see the last rise of a chest. The last struggle for breath. The last undignified ugly process of death. 

I never want to say goodbye to someone that I love. Ever. Again. 

But I know that I will have to go through all of the above at some point in my future because I am surrounded by people I love and who love me back. I know that death is a part of living. I know this, but I don't like it. 

It hurts like hell. Death is more painful for those left behind and my heart is aching for everyone who loved you.

I know that time will heal the pain and my heart will not be heavy when I think of you in the future. I know that over time I'll stop thinking "this time last Christmas, this time last birthday, this time last...". I know this will get better and it will stop aching. 

And I know this because I was given the most beautiful parents a girl could ask for, who taught me how to be compassionate and caring and love people with all my heart. 

It's time for healing now, for being thankful that you lived and loved. 

Thank you mum. For everything. 

Maureen Fryar

26th Feb '49 - 5th Oct '15