Day 98 in a Year of my Life

What I wouldn't give to have our community back to normal right now.

When I look in the mirror, I want to see the twinkle back in my eyes.

I want to feel like smiling again without forcing it to happen.

I want to hear the smile in people's voices when we wish each other a 'good morning'.

I want the happy energy of my town back.

I don't like the constant sound of tarps flapping in the wind.

I miss the Seat of Knowledge.

I miss the lovely shady path that meandered along the river.

I miss my Tawny Frogmouths.

I miss my routine.

I miss my oven (our only access to power is a double power point in our box out the front of the house that we have plugged two extra long extension leads into - and that runs our fridge, a lamp, a small TV in our outdoor area and my computer).

I even miss Adoring Husband lazing on the couch watching Dr Who every morning.

At 3.30am tomorrow, it will be exactly one week since the tornado wreaked it's havoc on our community.  I can't believe that it's been a whole week already.

Even though so much has been done to clean up the devastation, it still feels like there is a long road ahead to find some semblance of normality.

I know that Adoring Husband is working hard to bring our lives back to 'normal'.  I also know that he is struggling every day with his own 'tornado demons'.

I wake up every morning and just for a brief moment, it feels like any other morning, and I look forward to my coffee with the boys and I think about the photos I might get, just like I have every morning for 4 years.  For that brief moment, there is no sadness or fear or disappointment or worry or anxiety.

Then the memory hits me like a dumping wave.

I love that first moment of the morning.  I remember it well from when my Mum passed away.  She was my last thought at night before sleep and my first thought in the morning - but there was always that one moment before comprehension and it always felt so nice.

So today, I am grateful for that first morning moment when all is right with my world and I hope that over time, the moment grows longer with every day that passes.

So I guess this is part of my grieving process.  The mental and emotional process that follows loss.  I hope this blog is going to help me through the process - I have always been much better with the written word than the spoken word.

I hope that you, who read this regularly, will be patient with me.

Nite all.