It is unusual for me to be home alone with my own thoughts but today is one of those days. My husband and our sons have gone to Sydney on a bus to play Auskick at half-time during the game between Greater Western Sydney and Port Adelaide.
I had a few comments yesterday asking me how I was going to spend my day and wasn’t it great to have the day to myself. I didn’t really answer them except to say ‘I don’t know’ but I did know what I would be doing, I just didn’t want to say. I knew it was not going to be great; none of my days are great; some are more bearable than others but none are great.
What am I doing? I am alone with my thoughts of Clea wondering what we would be doing together today. What would ‘the girls’ do together? Afterall, ‘the boys’ are off doing their own thing so we would do something special together too.
But my daughter is not with me today or any other day.
Today, I have worn myself out at the gym, I have taken the few remaining roses to Clea’s grave and I have eaten my lunch in silence.
It’s the silence that is the most obvious. I like silence. I’m not one to turn the television or radio on for background noise. I am comfortable with silence. It helps me to think.
There are times when I avoid thinking about Clea because the pain is overwhelming but in silence I can think and remember however I want.
I am not solitary. I do not feel lonely. Alex Miller wrote in ‘Lovesong’ that: “Solitariness is a man’s only truth. And that is the difference between us and them … But the woman who has a child growing inside her body is not alone … But the woman who is a mother has a companion for her soul … Men never meet the perfect friend they dream of meeting.”
I had my perfect friend. She was the companion of my soul.