New beginnings

Morning

It’s moving day and I’m typing this entry on my phone, lying in the quiet, pre dawn darkness. I’m day nine into my third round of chemo and beginning to climb out of the hole. I’ve spent the last nine days pretty much in bed as my world is being collapsed into moving boxes. I have managed to stay out of hospital so far this cycle, which is a fine achievement. Dad has been back and forth from Forster to Newcastle with his trailer taking loads back for a couple of weeks. Working hard and without complaint. I am more than grateful and despite my sadness, recognise how truly lucky I am.

The last few days have been stressful and I have been feeling sad. It’s hard not to feel like I’m losing everything. My home, my job, my life here in Newcastle and mostly, Marcie. We’ve been together for 25 years, just her and I for most of the time. This change will be a huge adjustment.

Last night, Marcie and I went out for dinner. We went to a Korean place in Hamilton. It was really nice - a farewell type thing. I was just well enough to be out… completely exhausted at the end.

Marcie has not yet been able to find a place to rent. The market is crazy. She has looked at quite a few rooms in share houses over the last few weeks and missed out on all but one - a room with a lovely girl in a terrace in Islington. We’re still waiting to hear on that one. I really wish we had her properly organised before I left. I’m learning a lot of things through this whole process - one of them being to let go of control. I don’t have a choice. I have found it really hard not to be micro managing this situation, but I can’t and I think it’s been good for me and for Marcie who has had an opportunity to really take control of her life.

Afternoon

I hugged Marcie hard and kissed her goodbye, loading my car with bags and boxes of essentials and Poppy and Sesame, and Mum and I began the two hour journey north, saying goodbye to Newcastle as my home. I cried a few incredulous tears, mostly at the ridiculuousness of the situation - leaving my life behind because of damn cancer. It all seemed so unfair.

We turned into Green Point Drive early afternoon and as always, I was greeted with the peaceful feeling that comes from returning to a magical childhood home. Green Point is a village fifteen minutes drive from Forster, a sleepy beachside town. Green Point is on a peninsula of land jutting out into the beautiful Wallis Lake. Mum and Dad have a big house perched on a hill looking out over the lake that was my back yard as a child. Three islands punctuate the waters near to our shore and after a large expanse of water, the distant mountains roll away in an Australian silvery blue far on the opposite shore.

Walking into the house, my sadness melted away as I saw that my dad had made me a space, a bedroom suite, arranging the things of mine he had already bought in the trailer with such care and thought. My desk was in front of a huge window looking over the expanse of lake, my bed placed carefully so I can feel the afternoon winter sun on my face when I am sick and unable to get up.

I now have eight days until my next treatment. Dad and my brother are hiring a truck next Saturday to move the remainder of my things up. I am feeling ok so these days feel like a gift.