Toe prints on the inside of your windscreen. Just drive.
To my person. The one who is always right there, even from 2625.84 km away.
You truly are one of the most beautiful, inspirational, witty, fabulous and genuine people I know. You have grown as a person in this past few years in ways that make me proud to stand along side you, and grateful to have you there as a sounding board. You are the one I can go to for a totally honest, unbiased opinion on anything – “Yes, your ass is the size of Texas in that, try this though, you will look gorgeous.” “Yes, you’re being a psychotic bitch, but it’s totally justified/take some deep breaths and calm the fuck down.”
We have code words from a decade ago that we can whip out and drop into the conversation and are still relevant today. Ping. We can have hysterical, can’t breath giggle attacks about the penis-vagina-fart-bottom-shart-body talk, just like 13 years old versions of ourselves. We can discuss the meaning of life from the greatest depths of our psyche. We can cry about failed attempts. We can get angry on behalf. We can tell each other our honest opinion, and then support each other even if we don’t agree with the outcome.
Through seventeen years of thick and thin, highs and lows, tears and laughter, you and I collide. This is real. I wouldn’t have it any other way.
Love you ❤
I’m not so great at feigning excitement for the homework and reading “Sam I Am” stories. We get it done.
I want to foster a wonder, pique an interest and encourage wanderlust for every corner of the globe.
Sometimes she plays Minecraft and I watch Orange Is The New Black, other times we watch how anthropologists reconstructed King Tut’s face from archaeological information supplied from wooden sculptures made of Tut during his youth. We read National Geographic, Google destinations and cook dishes from far off places.
We have discovered that a cheese burger tastes different in Australia than in New Zealand. We have tried Rydge’s carrot, prawn and coconut soup in Sydney and cherry-lavender lemonade at The Common in Melbourne. We have marvelled at the promptness of the double-decker public transport overseas, compared to the smelly, loud diesel trains and buses that never run to schedule here.
We save our coins and even when life eats into our travel funds, we still put what we can aside. We explore in our minds and fantasise about the travel that feels like it will never quite happen. She is always down for a last minute adventure, be it to Wellington or Australia or for a rock climb at the beach a mere 30 minutes from home.
I’m trying. One day. Even if I have wrinkles and she has a degree. Explore everything
The love I have for my family is huge. You are my people, either by blood or by choice and I am grateful for each and every one of you. Near or far, new or old. You mean the world to me. You know who you be ❤️
With proud thanksgiving, a mother for her children,
England mourns for her dead across the sea.
Flesh of her flesh they were, spirit of her spirit,
Fallen in the cause of the free.
Solemn the drums thrill; Death august and royal
Sings sorrow up into immortal spheres,
There is music in the midst of desolation
And a glory that shines upon our tears.
They went with songs to the battle, they were young,
Straight of limb, true of eye, steady and aglow.
They were staunch to the end against odds uncounted;
They fell with their faces to the foe.
They shall grow not old, as we that are left grow old:
Age shall not weary them, nor the years condemn.
At the going down of the sun and in the morning
We will remember them.
They mingle not with their laughing comrades again;
They sit no more at familiar tables of home;
They have no lot in our labour of the day-time;
They sleep beyond England’s foam.
But where our desires are and our hopes profound,
Felt as a well-spring that is hidden from sight,
To the innermost heart of their own land they are known
As the stars are known to the Night;
As the stars that shall be bright when we are dust,
Moving in marches upon the heavenly plain;
As the stars that are starry in the time of our darkness,
To the end, to the end, they remain.
To the man with the elderly black dog at the beach today. Lo siento. I thought your dog was scared of you. I judged before I saw what was happening. What I thought was terror was actually a seizure. I am sorry that I didn’t stop. I mentally used the fact that I was having a monochromatic day and that I had Sam in the car as an excuse. I watched you hold your dog, speak reassuring nothings to your dog, be there for your dog. I did nothing to be there for you. You were a stranger and I let that come before my compassion. Today I failed at being a decent human being. For that I am truly sorry.