Trisha Cornelius

Figuring it out as I go

neil gaiman

A New Year’s Wish for 2018 and some bits about grief

Hello world,

This is something that I shamelessly stole from Neil Gaiman. The idea of a New Year’s wish, even though this year he did not make a wish for us:

I still have a wish, on this difficult day. My wish for 2018 is that you find your balance. May you find the balance between taking care of yourself and looking out for others. May you find the balance between the frost and the fire. May you find the balance between fighting fights that need to be fought and walking away so that you are not always fighting.  May you find the way to channel our destructive emotions into useful things and use it to find your balance.

Love and balance,
Trisha

P.S. As I typed the wish I realized how much of this was inspired by Sir Terry Pratchett’s Wintersmith and I Shall Wear Midnight.

***

Today marks two years since my dad was murdered. This time two years ago I was getting ready to spend the night at my parents-in-law’s house after I had come to my childhood home and seen that the horror of the truth of a phone call that I hoped was a terrible mistake was a harsh reality. And so, on this difficult day I am grateful for music that helps me feel. The specific song that called to me now was Song for my Father by Kim Boekbinder. A haunting piece of music, whose lyrics I identify with:

In between me and you
are a million points of light,
I’ve cast them up into a darkening sky.
You can follow them to me
when you are lost or you are free
and I will wait here, I will wonder why.

I don’t presume to know the meaning that Kim Boekbinder intended, but I know that for me the idea that my dad tossed up a million points of light into the darkening sky to guide me is comforting. Death doesn’t end relationships, it changes them to be one sided and made up of memories and interpretations. I was always a daddy’s girl. Ironically after I became a mother I now identify more strongly with her and understand her more, but she is also gone, but naturally (even though suddenly as well).

And I know in the music and the memories I will always find my dad.

Love and grief,
Trisha

Now we are ONE

Dear Lucas,

Baby Lucas - 2 days oldA year ago you came into the world on your own terms, after being very patient about a slow labour you decided that you wanted out NOW. And so, in the early hours of a Monday morning you were born via an emergency cesarean section. When you were in Karen’s arms you made the most precious mewing sound and melted your dad and my hearts. You were the most amazing and curious little person from the get go.

We started to count your life in hours, (I whispered happy 24-hours to you while we were still staying at Genesis). This year has been a roller coaster powered by love, chocolate and maxims (“A crying baby is not a dying baby”, and “This too shall pass”).

As we were walking in the garden earlier today I was thinking about how many times I have missed my own mother since you have been born, there are so many things that I would love to hear her opinion on.

We have had innumerable precious moments together, and nearly everyday you will fall asleep cuddled in my arms while you feed.

It seems that you have a favourite author. You love the onomatopoeia of Neil Gaiman’s stories — I can recite Chu’s Day from memory for you — but you prefer to change it up by flicking through to the pages where he nearly sneezes. You laughed with delight when I read Fortunately The Milk to you. I love the magic moments of story time with you.

You have started saying words in between your babbles, and are a constant delight. You constantly watch the world and explore. Yesterday, you figured out how to turn on the bath taps, so I can no longer quickly put you in the bath with some toys while I sort out the laundry.

Lucas - Nearly one!While I start the day in clean clothes, I invariably end up covered in sticky, and I would not have it any other way. It has been an amazing adventure, and I am looking forward to many more years with you.

Love,
Mom

A new year’s wish for 2014

Each person whoever was or is or will be has a song. It isn’t a song that anybody else wrote. It has its own melody, its own words. Very few people get to sing their own song. Most of us fear that we cannot do it justice with our voices, or that our words are too foolish or too honest, or too odd. So people live their songs instead.

Anansi boys by Neil Gaiman

My wish for all of us in this coming year is that we are able to sing our own song, to make the beautiful music that only we can make. The music that we make simply by living our lives, to acknowledge our fear and our darkness and simply sing.

Love and new year’s wishes,
Trisha