Farewell Fair Friend

After 10 years of service, we've retired our tent. We've certainly had our money's worth.

I vividly remember when I got it. Here's what happened (please, don't judge). I was on maternity leave  and rocked up to Kmart with all the kids in tow - George was 12, Jaz was 11 and in a wheelchair, Elle 7 and Sass 5 months in a pram on a mission to buy one of their $24 strollers to take on our driving holiday to Tasmania. Technically, Sass was still a bit small for a stroller, but there was no room for a pram.

We'd recently been camping at Easter with the six of us wedged into our one room tent and enduring a horrendous storm in which George's sleeping bag got soaked (with him in it!). That had sparked the need for a larger one - but right then, there were other priorities.

Back to Kmart. I spotted a two room tent on sale and called Geoff. If he promised to sell the old one, I'd buy the new one. Done!

I grabbed the tent, the stroller and the usual stuff you discover at Kmart that you didn't know you needed until you saw it.

Chatting with the ladies at the check out, I confess I wasn't paying much attention. I paid, organised George and Elle to help push the pram, the wheelchair and the over-flowing trolley back to the car. As I was loading kids and gear, I suddenly thought That can't be right when I recalled the finally tally of our shopping. I dug out the receipt and confirmed my suspicions. Among the chaos, the chat and the price checks, the tent had been put through at $24 and no no sign of the stroller.

I was not going back.

So there you have it. Pretty much a free tent.

After 10 years though, the zipper on the front was dodgy, we discovered half a pole missing (The Grampians last year?) and a small hole had appeared in the floor. So after camping this year, we packed it up neatly into its bag (missing one wheel) and left it by the bin.

PS I'd like to point out that I always tell a cafe if they'd missed a coffee on the bill or if I think a business has undercharged me. In fact, the electrical mechanic told me he'd never had anyone call to check that he'd remembered to charge everything! So please don't think this is my usual behaviour!!

Hopelessly underprepared.

It's time for the Run For The Kids again. It seems to come around more quickly every year, but the fact that it also seems longer, is a reality. It's managed to sneak up from abut 13km when it started  to 16km!

Here's Elle and I from last year - or the year before - it's all a blur. But I think this year will the most memorable as my training has been less than exemplary.

I have been walking a lot - most mornings for an hour - and running once a week or two. Let's see how that works shall we??

I was lamenting this my sister-in-law who reminded me that some years ago, she shot out of the blocks of the 5km course with great gusto but quickly descended into an injured limp. Afterwards, she popped up the the Royal Children's Hospital (coincidentally the beneficiary of this run) to see George. 

Are you alright, KB? He inquired. You seem to be struggling.

He always was perceptive!

So slack have I been, that I've barely put out the call for team members. I'm not even going to disgrace George and Jaz by wearing their T-shirt. Anonymous black will do it. There's absolutely no need to draw attention to myself!

Anyway, as I see it, every minute that passes is a minute closer to it.... being over!!

The Trap

Do you have a garage? A shed? An attic? A spare room perhaps? Somewhere you can store stuff that you don't require on a day to day basis or stuff that you're hanging onto because you might need it one day or you have some emotional attachment and can't let go?

We have an attic. They type that has the pull down ladder in the ceiling and Geoff has put some flooring up there and that's pretty much it. It's a trap. Why? Because it's far too easy to fling stuff up there rather than make an actual decision about it.

The door to The Trap! What lurks behind....

There is so much crap up there it's a fire hazard. So at Easter I decided the big project would be to check though what the heck was there and get rid of some stuff.

Here's a summary:

• Rationalising the enormous collection of soft toys down to just two huge stripy bags full. We should have gone harder I know but there's a lot of emotion in those stuffed bits of bathmat
• At least half a dozen good quality woollen blankets that Mum had given me when she and Dad moved house god knows how many years ago. We've never used them and as the weather grows increasingly chilly, I figure anyone sleeping rough would probably like one. Straight to St Vinnies.
• Three sleeping mats (we have bunk beds for the tent now) and about as many sleeping bags that have since been upgraded or that we no longer use. See above.
• A couple of Lladro figurines (not rare) that were Mum's - although she says she has no recollection of them. My cousin Amy likes that style of decoration so why on earth are they sitting gathering dust in my attic when she could be enjoying them?
• Just a few clothes that were Jazzy's and Elle's that I thought Sass might wear one day. Ha! Apart from a couple of pairs of wacky sneakers, the rest went straight to St Vinnie's.
• God knows how many crates of the kids' 'special art' and school journals - but could I get Elle and Sass to part with more than a small fraction of it? No. I'm thinking a sneaky clean out without them might be in order!

Here's a stroll through history:

• A huge crate of rolls for the pianola. We did have a pianola - it was my grandmother's - but do we really need so many old rolls of songs and music from the 1920s?? Probably not. But they're still there.
• A crate of memorabilia from my youth (yes, yes - all those years ago....)
• A box of family heirlooms from my parent's place (now minus a couple of Lladro figurines)
• A small crate of adorable baby things that I hope one day the girls might want for their babies
• Crates of photo albums - even though Geoff has pretty much scanned every photo we own
• The doll's house that was Jaz's, then Elle's, then Sass's
• The rocking horse that was Jaz's, then Elle's, then Sass's
• A crate of George's special things
• Some dioramas the kids did at school
• A crate of favourite kid's books (see baby things)
• Old trophies and awards

What's also staying that is useful:

• A couple of crates of ski gear - although we did manage to weed out the bits that don't fit anyone anymore
• Doona, pillows, mattresses and sleeping bags for sleep overs
• Some miscellaneous furniture we have pledged to rid ourselves of should any of it not find a home when we finally renovate
• Christmas decorations

I'm such a hoarder! I'm sure if George and Jaz were still with us, I feel sure I wouldn't need to hang on to so many tangible memories - but also suspect that space would just be taken up by other crap of theirs! I also suspect if one day it all just disappeared, apart from the useful stuff, we'd manage perfectly well without the rest.

So do you have storage trap? What do you keep and how do you let go of 'stuff'?? All tips gratefully received!

Pros & Cons of Being #4

I was reflecting today how disciplined we were with George and Jaz when they were little,. The routine was clockwork. The only time they knew as pre-schoolers was 'twenty past seven' which was either ten minutes until we left for creche if it was the morning or ten minutes until they were tucked up in bed if it was night.

And once tucked into their cosy little beds, that was it. They never got out. On occasion, they would call for room service, but on the whole, it was dinner, bath, book and bed. We even used to pop Enya on the portable CD player to get them off to sleep.

Then straight up at 6.30am to do it all again.

Oh how things have changed!

It started to slide a bit when Elle was born - she's 5 1/2 years younger than George - but on the whole, it was still pretty much on track.

But then Saskia arrived - a mere 12 1/2 years after George  - and that perfect pre-schooler routine was never located again. We did look. But even by three she was a reluctant participant. 'Why am I going to bed?' she'd complain, bewildered, as George, now 15, Jaz 13 and Elle 9 were all settling in for a bit of Australian Idol.  Yep - just wasn't happening. We'd still be trying to round her up at 9.30pm.

This year was our big year. She's now 7 and the only one at home. Surely we could get a routine going. And we have - sort of. She does go to bed between 7.30 and 8pm. But does tend to pop out several times if the mood takes her. It's a complete mystery to me now as to how I got the others to stay there. And I'm sure there wasn't any yelling involved either.

But it has been pointed out by Saskia's peers mothers that there are up-sides. She is incredibly articulate and usually pretty confident. She can also be extremely grown up for someone who's 7 and be very responsible with our young, pre-school neighbour.

I think you do ease up a bit as they go on and I hope there were pros and cons for all of them. But I am wondering if, like grand parenting, there should be some refresher courses for those of us who thought they'd just sneak in that last one before menopause. But at least tonight I did think to pop some music on - the iPod not the CD - and I haven't heard peep out of her!

All six of us circa 1855. (or 2006!)

Farewell My Van

My van was picked up by its new owners yesterday. No more sliding doors for me! You may recall I have posted about it before. I've never loved it but it certainly served its purpose.

We got it 5 years ago when Jaz had scoliosis surgery and we weren't allowed to pick her up for fear that the rods in her back could dislodge. She had to be hoisted in a sling and stay in her wheelchair until they were sure it had fully healed. So it was farewell to the Pajero - which I was very fond of - and hello to the van. I always thought if I had to drive a van, this was definitely the pick of them. Fortunately, Mercedes was a client of the agency I worked for at the time and helped me out by finding an ex-demo that I could actually afford.

We also then had a hydraulic lift fitted. None of this is a secret - I did tell the new owners who thought the bracket to hold the lift's remote control was a bottle opener! We had the lift taken out less than a year later when Jazzy died.

It was then handy for George's wheelchair too, as it was easy enough to fling in the back behind the third row of seats where there was still plenty of room and a surprisingly low floor.

But I do have some great memories:

• The Cubs loved it when I was with Scouts. 'What happens in the van, stays in the van,' they'd say (ie eating lollies I'd bought them at the petrol station.)

• I had a whole routine for Sass and her friends:
   'Welcome aboard flight Mother Who Works, destination school. Please ensure your seat belt is firmly fastened, your seat upright, table stowed and all hand luggage secured. In the unlikely event of an incident, please follow the instructions of the flight crew. Should we lose cabin pressure, a mask will drop from the compartment above. Place it over your nose and mouth and breath normally.... blah, blah, blah. Estimated time of the flight, approximately five minutes. Thank you for choosing to fly with Mother Who Works."
  The kids thought it was hilarious - even when it was repeated again and again and again. 

• I loved that 'Don't make me come back there!' was never an idle threat
• I've driven Elle and her friends to parties and collected an entire van full of them in the middle of the night
• We've been camping with a trailer hitched on the back and the canoe and tables on the roof
• Around the neighbourhood, everyone knew the van and when we were out and about
• It's trucked teams of advertising peeps around town (many who think they're rock stars requiring a van!!) and served as the mobile office on many an occasion

But with just the two girls now, we don't need it and I'm not sad to say goodbye. I think it could almost drive from our house to The Royal Children's Hospital on auto-pilot. And the family who bought it are just lovely, so I'm glad it's gone to a happy home. 

My new (second hand) car is a black 4WD with a black interior and seats a mere five. Not even any flip out seats. Just five. And it feels so zippy!! But I can't change the radio station or work the heater and I keep setting off the windscreen wipers. I've even managed to immobilise it when we were late for a meeting...ahhhhh!!!

So it's so long to my van and hello to a whole new, annoying learning curve....

Poverty and George's Charity

Did you see Four Corner's last Monday night? Here's the link to iView - if you can handle it. It made me cry.

You might recall I once posted about unethical consumption - the $10.5 billion a year Australia spends on food we don't eat, clothes we don't wear, books we don't read, downloads we don't listen to - it might be a timely reminder for us all to think about that as we watch these people on Four Corners struggle to feed their kids, find accommodation and just make ends meet.

Another thing that struck me in this program was how two of the three spokespeople who work with this disadvantaged group are women. I'm sure the actual split in the sector is even more strongly skewed. Had the story been on financial success instead of financial failure, I wonder what that gender split would be?

Anyway, enough of my left-wing, feminist ranting.

Also this weekend, other than upsetting myself with social injustice, I also packed up all George's clothes. It was bound to happen. Elle is home for the holidays and she and Sass decided they wanted their own rooms and for the first time of course, that's possible. But to make space, ten months after George died, I was compelled to finally make a decision about what to do with his clothes that have sat, unworn, in the wardrobe ever since.

When Jaz died, as the oldest of the three girls, her wardrobe and possessions simply merged in with the rest of the stuff the girls had and used, so we hadn't had to face this milestone. We agreed to pack up his clothes - but the actual doing fell to me.

It was a heartbreaking task. One I wept my way through. Folding each of his Ts, hoodies and jeans, boardies and PJs, shirts and chinos, runners and boots. Each item reminding me that he is no longer here to wear them. I put his footy jumpers, baseball cap collection, his electric blue loafers and a few other favourite things into a tub to store in the attic.

I knew there was no need to get rid of anything. It could all go into the attic and I could deal with it later - weeks, months or years later. But somehow I realised that it didn't matter when this day was - it was going to be just as difficult.

So Geoff and I decided today was the day - spurred on by Four Corners and the reality that so many have so little. A warm parker might just be the ticket. We could have passed his things on to family and friends, but in truth, I don't want to see them wearing it - it's just a reminder that George should be here. Geoff and Sass took a special trip to the St Kilda Mission to drop it off. And now it's done.

There is much consolation knowing that George was very charitable and thoughtful and would have been pleased with the decision.

I still miss him - and Jaz - every day.

Four Years Ago Today...

... our beautiful daughter Jaz left us, aged 14 years and 23 days. 

And coincidentally, here's an email my friend Annie, who now lives in Paris, sent me last week.

Ok. So here is my dream last night.

I was at a party.  It was special invitation and I had to be prepared to swear that if went I would tell no one.

I said yes.

They gave me this gorgeous gold dress to wear. (pleated, fabulouswith matching tap dancing shoes)

The party was full of people I recognised but did not know buteveryone was being very friendly.

This gorgeous young woman came up to me and introduced herself, a kiss to each cheek, and said she was Jaz. She had a fabulous suntan, her skin had golden flecks , hair was thick and to her waist, she was wearing silver hot pants and these fabulous silver boots with killer heels. She was telling me about the family with details on daily activities and laughing because you were teaching Elle to drive but

Elle had refused to do any more lessons with you. And Geoff had built a secret passage way that everyone knew about except you !!!

Then other people came up congratulating Jaz on the evening  - apparently she had arranged the whole event, music, decoration, food.....the food she had actually cooked.  And the food had been created by her by asking everyone to send over everything they had in their fridge they were not going to eat.......except the food was delicate and delicious and good looking. Far from leftovers.  And

everyone was being sprayed with perfume made from the sauce...but it was divine.

The dream finished because some film crew "broke in" to interview people and Jaz closed the doors.  I was trying to find someone who could tell me the time cos I was meant to be meeting Roger....I woke

up.

Thought I had to share it with you.  It was a scene of intense calm, happiness and life !

The Lantern

We sent a latern up for Jaz's 18th birthday, like we did last year, but this time we had the idea to write her messages. Worked for me!

Susan

I first met Susan in February 2009 - just weeks before Jaz died. She had been sent by the agency to see how we all got along before being rostered on as a carer.I liked her immediately.

Susan was only a few years older than me, but wasn't one for the type of aesthetic maintenance my peers and I tend to pursue, her hair was grey, her teeth not all present, her figure comfortable - and I warmed to her immediately. She was so relaxed, honest and delightful, we called the agency and said there was no need for us to meet anyone else at all - we wanted Susan.

By this point, Geoff and I were alternating nights to sleep in Jaz's room. She was now incapable of moving herself and needed to be rolled every 2-3 hours to avoid pressure sores. She was a on a full-face breathing machine for five hours a night that would alarm if she stopped breathing (that happened....) and she needed regular suctioning for her excessive secretions which also inhibited her oxygen uptake. Nights were busy.

I had been given a case manager now Jaz's status had been changed to palliative (the system is so bad, they want to be sure there's an end point before they give you help - I mean, really??!) She said that as Geoff and I were both working full time and caring for three other kids as well as Jaz, we needed someone to come in and do a couple of nights a week so we could sleep - and that's how we got Susan.

On the first night, it was really strange to go to bed knowing someone is in your house. I'd brought home some trash magazines for Susan to read - which she politely declined as she only read the bible. Eeek! I thought. Have we made a mistake? As atheists, I had just discovered Susan was a devout Christian and part of the Hill Song Church. But no, no need to panic - we were both very tolerant of each others beliefs.

Susan would also come on Saturday mornings and go with Geoff to the pool with George, Jaz and Elle while I took Sass to the supermarket. She'd arrive back at our place and announce to me that she couldn't believe she was being paid to have this much fun! She even bent the strict agency rules and was happy for us not to have a second baby sitter for the other three kids if we went out.

As we got to know Susan, we discovered her amazing past - rather than this post go on forever, here are the jaw-dropping bullet points:

• She married at 18 in Vegas and she and her husband discovered they couldn't have children
• So they fostered 14 boys aged within about 8 years of each other - all at the same time from when they got them until they were adults. None were short term care.
• They lived in a purpose built house in northern Victoria
• Her husband drove  and repaired trucks (yes, two jobs) to support them. He was a non-believer, had been raised in an orphanage and was ex-military.
• They bought every one of those 14 boys a house!!! Susan's husband believed debt was a good motivator to work - so they raised a deposit for every single boy (Susan did say the houses weren't expensive - needing about a $10k deposit each - but what an effort!)
• Susan's husband died of cancer a few years prior and she had also had breast cancer
• She was still very much involved with all 14 boys - now all having left home but gathered at her small suburban house often for meals and sleep overs.

Susan gave us this painting called 'Eyes'.
 She did it while travelling in Malaysia as a teenager
.

And here's the rest of the story:

• Jaz loved Susan, she was kind, caring, funny, positive and upbeat
• Susan prayed for Jaz and was sure she wouldn't die - and was devastated when she did
• Susan's cancer came back. I went to visit her and met her mum who was taking care of her
• She had a palm tree in her front room, covered in fairy lights which I admired. She said I could have it after she'd gone.
• The agency rang me in October. Susan had died.
• Her mum wrote to me and asked me to pop around to pick up the tree.

Susan was a living angel and an incredible role model for humanity. I think of her often.

The tree. We love it!

MJs Fundraiser

As many of you know, I'm part of a group called the MJs who are hell bent on putting the fun back into FUNdraising as well keeping costs to a minimum and cash to the cause to a maximum.

Our first event last year, a trivia night, raised $40,000 for Glenallen School where my gorgeous George and Jaz went. We have directed this money to the families at the school, some of who are strapped for cash for things like a Foxtel subscription and a wall mounted TV for a child who now spends most of their time in bed. We decided Jaz needed exactly that and fortunately, we had the money to just get it. Not so every family. But I know how much joy watching endless episodes of Hannah Montana gave Jaz and think every family should have that kind of option. And we MJs were rightly proud of our first effort!

Our next event is in support of The McAuley Centre for women escaping family violence. You can read all about the amazing job they do at http://www.mcauleycsw.org.au/ As confident (some would say perhaps a tad too confident!) women of independent means, this is a cause we again feel strongly about. Not all women have had the benefit of our secure and privileged circumstances and we absolutely appreciate that.

You can watch our promotional video below or on this link ...http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=L3_JksxL6hw

If you can support this event, we'd be very grateful! Drop off some clothes, come along with some toiletries, buy up big! We'd love to see you on March 23rd from 10am-5pm at the Malvern Central School gym. All details are in the video.

And did you spot why we're called the MJs??

Six, five, four, three.

Four years ago, there were six of us living here. The kids were 15, 13, 10 and 3. George and Jaz were both at Glenallen and although Jaz's status was palliative, she was still getting to school about three days a week and staying out of hospital. We were busy with usual family, work and school activities, but we knew it was only a matter of time. We were looking forward to camping at Bright for Easter - and we got there!

Jaz & Elle 2006, aged 11 and 7.

This time last year, there were five of us living here - although George was still in hospital after his spinal surgery to correct his scoliosis. Unexpectedly, he nearly didn't make it - which you may have read about but feel free to recap on this link. Thankfully he pulled through. We had hoped to camp at Nagambie. We didn't get there.

From October, there were four of us living here. Not only that but there was no equipment and no one with a disability. Of course I'd prefer there was - it'd mean George was still with us, but that's not the case. Our routine has changed dramatically. It was early mornings to get George (and Jaz prior to that) up, dressed and fed for the 7.10am bus pick up, the broken sleep and constant worry during the night that he was okay and still breathing, still in bed and not on the floor, the keeping track of five tube feeds a day and countless medications. Now our routine is what most people would consider  to be 'normal', although it's new to us. I have reflected often that for some families, due to illness or accident, they find their world turned around in the opposite direction - to go from 'normal' to suddenly having to care for someone. I'm sure that would be much more difficult.

And now, there's just the three of us living here. Elle is at boarding school and people ask me if I miss her. In honesty, I don't. I know she's having a great time and is safe and happy. I think I still miss George and Jaz so much there's no room for any more 'missing' - and there's really no need, Elle will be coming back.

Good Grief

Jaz aged 8 in 2003

What a stupid expression. I use it myself, regularly, but really, there's nothing good about grief. Not that I've noticed anyway.

I wrote a book after Jaz died. More for my own therapy than anything else but I am wondering if I should do something with it. Like Angela's Ashes, it may need to wait until a few people have moved on - me included! - before it should see the light of day. (Frank McCourt called his best selling memoir that because he'd had to wait until his mother, Angela, passed away before it was published or 'the shame would have killed her'.)

Mine's call "14 Years, 23 Days", the extent of Jaz's life. Here's a snippet.

Grief weighs heavy on my chest, day and night, like someone’s lost luggage. I know this baggage is mine, but it’s so unfamiliar, so unrecognisable. I keep hoping I’ll wake from this nightmare and someone else will claim it.

Eleanor told me today that she is exactly 14 years and 23 days today. It made me cry. Losing George has somehow picked open that barely scabbed over but still weeping wound. Good grief? I don't think so.

Creche vs Nanny?

Creche kids

As a mother who works (I'm unusually on topic today!) all my kids went to creche from between 3 and 4 months old. (I've posted before about my shamefully short maternity leave stints.)

When it comes to childcare, there's no single, ideal solution. It was a topic often discussed at the office with mums - current, pending and contemplating.

A nanny gives you the freedom to run out the door in the morning and just leave the kids and the chaos. Out of home care means you need to have gotten those kids dressed, fed, bags packed, house tidy (if you're anything like me), yourself looking respectable and all in the car - often by 7.30am. And of course, during certain phases, add a breast feed in to that mix!

If the nanny is sick, you need to make other arrangements. If the carer at creche is sick it's not your problem, they'll make other arrangements.

Nanny's can pick up where you left off. Creche is a whole different environment. And for me, that was part of my decision. I actually didn't want someone in my house with my kids doing my 'mothering'. That's about me, not a judgement on anyone else's choice.

The other key consideration is cost. It's hard to go past the value of creche - which includes snacks, hot lunch and music and movement classes. You did pay extra for computer gym. At our creche they even had a visiting hairdresser and you paid about $6 for a trim! A nanny is not only more expensive by the hour but all your home bills go up as well. Again, for many, the flexibility is worth it.

A nanny will also do chores, good ones will do laundry and some even cook. Some will do grocery shopping, take the kids to appointments and swimming classes - really take the pressure off - so I can see the appeal.

When George and Jaz were small, we also raided the creche for babysitters, which proved to have another huge advantage - we knew what was going on with the staff and owners. Not just in a gossipy sense (although that's always interesting!) but to find out how the kids and staff are being treated and getting on when you're not there. We had an incident with baby Jaz when I'd asked them not to carry her around all day (she was irresistibly adorable, but not helpful when I got home and needed to cook dinner). When I arrived to collect her and George, another carer asked me to clarify the instructions - Jaz had had a miserable day and knowing us well, the carer didn't think I could possibly have meant not to pick her up at all. She was right! Could a nanny have also misinterpreted that and I'd never have known?

At drop off, like the others when they were there, Sass was welcomed daily with enthusiasm, "Goooood morning Saskia! What would you like to do today?" I often wished that was I was greeted like that at work - but my response may have been that I'd like to go home now thank you.

Given the age gap between the kids, Sass started creche when George started high school. 'Do you miss creche?' I asked George. 'Those were the good ol' days...' he replied with more than a hint of longing.

Even this week as we drove past creche, Elle reminisced wistfully about the fun and freedom of her days at creche. And of course the afternoon nap.

I know creche isn't for everyone. I was blatantly criticised by some of my non-working friends. But it worked for us.

But what do you think? Please do post a comment - it's very quite on the comment front..... :(

(PS - Yes Sass is in a Christening gown - it was a family heirloom that we popped on her while it fitted and took some snaps. Unlike the other three, she's wasn't baptised. Another post perhaps....)

The Letter

Sass came home tonight with a letter for us that had been addressed via her school. I recognised the hand writing immediately. This person wrote to us when Jaz died and I was so angry at the time I threatened to write back. I'm a tad more mellow this time, but my annoyance is still piqued.

Why? Because not only did this person not know George and Jaz, they don't know us. He cheerfully admits he gleaned our details from the death notices in the newspaper. You may think I'm being harsh about a well meaning stranger, but I find it objectionable and completely self-serving that this man chooses to quote chunks of the bible at us and suppose that he has any understanding of what we're going through. The entire letter is dripping with his own purpose - not ours.

"What I am writing is rather than a few nice words [sic], is what I have found has helped me under similar circumstances when my parents dies." Not even close, buddy.

"Although thought by many to be obsolete in this day and age, The Bible has the answers as to where the dead are and what the future holds for them and us." How does 'fuck off' sound?

"Having told you of my care and concern, I will not write again [thank Christ!!!] however if you feel I can be of any help, please do not hesitate to let me know." All contacted details provided. I was thinking of contacting him and telling him what I think, but then I remembered I am trying to be more gracious.

And finally, the icing on this cake: "PS I must apologise for using the computer for this personal letter [soooo personal - it's the exact same letter he sent when Jazzy died] because my disability makes it painful to write for any length of time." Mate, I'll tell you about disability - and it's a hell of lot worse that a sore hand.

Now never mind that we're non-believers as I've blogged about before, but the whiff of self-serving superiority and righteousness is down-right nauseating. This letter is NOT about us. It's about 'Richard' making himself feel like a top bloke for being so caring and sharing. And that's what makes me so god-damned angry.

I was reminded of the time I foolish allowed some unknown nutter at Chadstone say a prayer for Jaz. He'd clearly singled her out because of her disability. That alone should have been cause enough for me to tell him to fuck off too. And had I know he was going to fall to his knees, gripping the wheel of her chair like it was his last salvation, as we stood in the queue for New Zealand Natural Ice-Cream and loudly start chanting - no, actually, ranting - I would never have agreed. I should have gather up my flock and wheeled off. But no, shocked, we endured minutes of this torture, this public demonstration of his 'goodness' and god-fearing, heart-felt sincerity as Jaz sat there, looking both bewildered and yes, sorry for him! Never the less,I should never have allowed her to be subjected to that.

Am I wrong??

(Please do try and post them on the comments section below, or sign up for Disqus, it's painless.)