empty and alone in a crowded room. (P.S it's Christmas!)

It's that time of year again; Santa hats, tinsel and wrapping paper comes out, bank accounts get significantly emptier, and all we're left with is a belly ache and an album full of awkward family photos.

Two years ago I was drinking beer on chairlifts and zooming down mountains on my snowboard with two of my best friends in Canada.

Last year I was skyping my family from Melbourne (stuck there as a prisoner to the retail world) and later got drunk on the empty bars along Chapel St, sporting an incredible hangover during Boxing Day sales.

This year I am home again.

It will never ever feel like Christmas without my Dad but I’m happy to be back.

Though, I realized something upsetting today; My family is so incredibly damaged by everything that has happened to them, that, no matter how much they try to front it, they never can really enjoy something, like Christmas, for simply what it is.

Nothing distracts them from what is missing.

I think its okay to miss them. I miss my Dad every single day.

But I never, ever, ever, ever let it get in the way of my happiness. In fact, my having a happy and incredible life is a testament to him and how he raised me.

This Christmas, the 5^th since my Dads been gone, we had a small collection of family here at the family house.

The days are long gone when the entire set comes over. My beautiful father was undoubtedly the glue that held us together, kept the peace and made us laugh.

Before Heaven unfairly took my Dad away from us, Christmas was a hilarious and fun day that I looked forward too. We would always spend it at my Nana and Pa's house, which is a beautiful big house in the hills behind Byron Bay, with a big swimming pool which we would surround all day, eat ourselves stupid, and at night it was always a tradition that we would all play kelly pool laughing and reminiscing together.

The years following his death, we tried to carry on, but without my Dad, who was the most charismatic of us all, nobody’s heart is truly in it, and by dinnertime, everyone is just exhausted, like any old day.

Today was a step forward I guess, however small. We played kelly pool again for the first time since dad was here. By the end of it, everyone was having fun, but I just felt like it was forced to begin with. Things just used to fall into place.

I love my family. I do.

But I think they are too damaged to ever really enjoy days like this properly and that makes me sad. Even me, the strongest of us all, I’ll always have that empty feeling. It’s like every family get-together we have is a memorial of some sort. 

I don't want that.

There was one moment tonight, all 9 of us in the pool room, laughing at some of our rubbish pool skills and the banter being thrown around as it always used too between Dad and my uncles. I thought to myself, if there was ever a time when I should feel Dad around me, it should be now.

Its Christmas and here we all are.

So where are you Dad?

I don’t understand how I hear all these stories of people being able to sense their lost loved ones around them.

It’s not fair that I can’t see you, hear you or even feel you around me.

I’m so sick of being alone and feeling like I don’t have anyone. Everyone else in the family has their immediate family to go home to tonight. All my friends who come home for the holidays have their own bed to sleep in when they come home, I get a couch at various extended families living rooms. Dad, you were my only immediate family and you’ve left me alone. I’m so sick of being alone. It’s fucking not fair. Of all the parents and kids of anyone I’ve ever known, we were the closest and you meant more to me than any of their relationships. You were all I had. It’s not fair that I’m the one out of everyone that lost everything.

You left me 5 years ago and I’ve been alone ever since.

It’s just empty space all around me and always has been.

I’ve pushed away all my grief and sadness for nearly 5 years. It’s been so long that I don’t think I’ll ever really get that sad because I’m so good at being happy.

Am I meant to be sad to be able to sense you around me?

I don’t want to be sad. I just want the comfort of knowing I’m not alone.

Just in case the world ends; My last 351 days.

17/12/12

As the end of 2012 tiptoes closer and closer (as well as the end of humanity if you so believe) it has me thinking about how the last 351 days have played out.
(Wow, it doesn’t really hit how short a year is until I see it in days. It’s incredible just how much can change over and over again 351 days)

I like thinking about what has happened to me. I like reflecting; thinking about what happened, why it happened, what I learned, whether or not I changed because of the lesson, what I achieved and where I went terribly, terribly wrong.

I like trying to figure out why things happened and what I was supposed to take away from such events or people. Call me cliché, but I honestly think everything happens for a reason. That is to say, I think every single person that walks through your life is there for you to take something out of or your there for them. Think about how many people there are that have made a difference in your life. I know in mine, no matter how small, there’s hundreds! And some of those people I might not even be friends with, they are just people that have said or done something to make me think. 
Now think about all those people who you think might not have affected you at all; you are probably one of the ones who have made them think.
 
Whether or not everyone agrees with that little theory, it can’t be denied that it’s a nice thought; we all matter to someone.

I learned a lot of lessons this year that’s for sure! 
2012, its safe to say you kicked my ass!

One was that my sisters and brother are my number ones. I obviously knew this already, but 2012 bought us closer than we’ve been for 11 years.

I spent the better half of the year living with my little sister, Holly, who joined me in Melbourne immediately after her 18^th birthday in February. We hadn’t lived with each other since I left my mothers home at 11 years old, so we were making up for lost time. We became so close, and she has now gone from the little sister I loved but saw only once every two years, to my best friend. Our personalities are so different, but I can always count on her. I’ve also become closer to my brother Jye and my littlest sister, Georgia, mostly thanks to Holly. 

One of the not-so-nice realizations this year was just how alone I am in terms of family. Sure, mines big. But as far as immediate family go, I'm flying solo.

Except for Jye, Hol and George.  <3

Another lesson was learned the hard way.

I made the mistake of tricking myself into thinking that I had fallen for someone that I hadn’t, just because we were spending so much time together, and 6 months later it blew up in my face when it turned out he had a girlfriend the entire time.
I shouldn’t have let it go on that long when I knew from the start it would be a waste of time.

I learnt that when it comes to first impressions, I'm fairly spot on. 

But when it comes to remembering first impressions, I lose out, every time.
Oh yes, lesson well and truly learned.

There was so many more, and they just keep on coming...
 

I was on the phone to my aunt a few hours ago, and she told me that I would be mad not to come back from our Bali trip not a little shaken, and its normal for my state of mind to be a little off.

I certainly haven't been myself lately.

Since coming back, Melbourne life has gone from bad, to worst. I am writing this from one of my good friends lounge rooms, where I am sleeping at the moment. I have been homeless for nearly three weeks now. And close to jobless for nearly 2 months.
Being in a bad state of mind is what, at the end of the day, caused me to get fired. (I’m not an idiot, obviously excessive drinking is what really did it, but that what solicited out of character behavior was me acting out to something I didn’t even know was happening in my head at the time)

I almost lost it in uni; thank god I (semi) pulled it together by the time the semester ended, but I was so fucking close to fucking everything up. I lost my focus, I couldn’t think straight when trying to study. The only thing that got me through is the fact that I gave up everything I had to study what I am and I want, so badly, to get where I want to go. I somehow pulled it together and got through, in no way as well as I would have, had I been myself, but got through nonetheless.

My state of mind is still out of sorts. So much that I’ve decided to go home to Byron Bay for the summer.

One of my best friends is convinced I am running away, which might be true. But I can’t see myself fixing the mess I’ve created by not being able to deal with very real feelings. 

I think its time to be proactive and take myself out of Melbourne and go home to give my mind, body and soul a break – those three things are worth more than anything I am leaving behind in Melbourne.
 

When I return in 2013, at least I’ll be back to my old self; strong, happy and free; Tara as she should be.

act yo age gurrrl.

So, as I've mentioned before, there is pages and pages of writing on my laptop. 
About anything and everything.
Sometimes I find entire word documents with just a sentence of something I noticed that day, it's ridiculous really.


I found this rather long one the other day though, which I no doubt meant to post as its so detailed, but probably didn't due to the fact that I was still a mess and there is heavy reference to me getting fired - not exactly something you want to share with the world right away.


Here's what went through my head in amongst it all;
(I'm unsure of the date, usually I'm a very good girl at dating my typed up crap but not this time... so start of November-ish)


 ***

I’ve been a mess in the past month.

Lets start from the start…. (Mostly for me to piece together a friends theory as to what the hell happened to me this year?)

When I was 18 I had to grow up pretty damn quick.

One minute I was living at home, carefree and loving life. The next my sole caretaker and loving father was killed by a heartless pig of a man.

As his only child, I was smothered by overbearing family members (with hearts of gold!) and wanting nothing more than to make my own way and not need anyone.

A sense of independence came over me almost instantly and I psychologically stepped away from my family and began building my new life, on my own, restricted to myself, and the relationship I was in at the time.

I didn’t want help from anyone, and to be fair, didn’t really need it. I was a strong little fucker.

By the time I was 19, I had hit mental maturity beyond my friends. Looking back, I was only focused on work then, I hardly ever drank and when I did it wasn’t much.

I was focused and (semi)clear headed.

By this time my boyfriend and I had moved back into the apartment I grew up in, just the two of us.

My sister Holly calls it the days when I was married.

I had a stable job, was quickly eager to step higher in the fashion industry faster. I knew what I wanted and I wanted it fast. By the time I was 20 I was managing my own store for a big fashion retail chain.

Most people I met thought I was older. My friends outside my boyfriends and my immediate friends circle were generally older, most didn’t even know my age for months and were shocked to find out I was just a baby.

I remember being 19, and one of the girls I worked with thinking for months that I was well over 25. Boy, that sticks.

Fast forward to 21.

I left that stable life to travel.

I left my perfect little home, my perfect boyfriend, zippy little car and perfect salary paying job and disposable income to go and see what else the world had for me. It was something I knew I would always do; my dangerous case of wanderlust is no secret to anyone.

When I came home a year later things were different.

I was different.

The thought of permanently unpacking and moving back to my old mature life scared me. I had met myself as I should be somewhere along the road. I didn’t want to go back to the beige wearing version of myself I had left behind, but I didn’t know how to be my new self in my old life.

So I ran.

All the way up to Airlie Beach to be precise. And thus ended my 4 year relationship (at which point after, I ran to Melbourne)

I feel like since then I’ve gone a bit backwards.

I’m not in the least bit mature anymore. Everyone who meets me now is shocked to find out that I’m 23, not 18 or 19. I drink and party a hell of a lot more, am stupid with my money, don’t care much about personal image anymore (as opposed to my very trend setting, label wearing, platinum blonde, 19 year old self) hang out with a younger crowd at the best of times and am unfocused and always coming up with a new plan on what I am going to do next.

Its like I plummeted so hard into ‘growing up’ when I lost my Dad, that now that my mind is clear again and I’m starting to come to terms with it for real, that I’m making up for lost time.

23 isn’t exactly the greatest time to be acting out like a 16 year old though.

It’s only been in the past couple of weeks that I have really come to the realization that this is why I felt so full of energy and steam, thanks to a well thought out theory from a close friend.

If only I came to the realization that a 23 year olds can’t afford to act childish.

Literally.

I got fired last week.

From the best job I have ever had in my life.

For the better part of this year, I’ve been working a backpacker hostel, in the bar.

I’ve discovered working in this kind of environment is absolutely perfect for me. I got to be myself in my own working environment, and when yourself is a free spirited closet gypsy girl who likes to wear costumes and sparkles, trust me, that’s not always easily accepted.

But this place and everyone inside it took you as you are and embraced it.

People who are traveling are free to be themselves as they were meant to be, and me working in this environment, left me to be inspired by them, and let my true self take over again.

I absolutely adored working at this place.

My job and the friends I made there meant the world to me. They still do.

I got fired for losing my sense of good decision-making. I let my own problems get in the way and, fitting to what I’d recently discovered about myself, dealt with it in a rash and adolescent way.

It really is one of those things that you feel sick thinking you could go back in time and take it all back. Self hate and a bit of good ol’ fashioned self-destruction played a major role in the days after...

Oh boy did they ever.

Let darkness reign...

what was normal in the evening, by the morning seems insane

 

Things never make sense in the morning...

I had an episode of craziness earlier in the week. (Hence last post)
Not proper craziness, just overthinking and coming to illogical conclusions.
I'm not alone. 
Everyone has moments of insanity.



I was a mess and felt all the pressure of the past few weeks; losing my job, homelessness and end of year uni stress, it all hit me at once. 

I'm amazing at suppressing any thoughts or feelings that will lead to negativity (ask anyone!) but within a few hours that brick wall in my mind that, so durably, holds back all those feelings, temporarily crashed down and I felt it all. Everything.
It wasn't nice.
To top it off I was in a physical place of vulnerability. 
I HATE letting my guard down in front of people more than anything, especially people I don't know well.
So like I said, I was a mess. To the point where out of nowhere, I texted my ex, whom, while we are friends and everything, I don't really speak to all that much, and got him to bail me out of the situation. He knew all I needed was to separate myself from the darkness of the night before and put sleep in between.

The funny thing is, he was right. I woke up and things were okay. All those things I was upset about still existed, but, like always, I was able to deal with them.


It's insane, the character that comes out and controls you, the logic (or lack thereof) that takes over when you let something else envelope and control you.


Don't get me wrong, I like playing the puppet when I want too. We all know too well doing stupid shit and not having to be responsible is half the fun. 
For the first time though, I didn't like the conquest of my mind. No. Not at all.

We might die from medication, but we sure killed all the pain
But what was normal in the evening, by the morning seems insane.

I'm not sure what the trouble was that started all of this
The reasons all have run away but the feeling never did
It's not something I would recommend, but it is one way to live
Cause what is simple in the moonlight, by the morning never is

if my heart didn't exist, I would be so goddamn sane!

Sometimes I show signs of insanity.
Yep.


If I asked y'all to nod if you think you're the same, everyone should be confidently bopping their heads, 'cause we're all slightly insane, and our heart is what makes us go nutty.
Sometimes I do stupid shit, purely because I let bullshit meaningless feelings get in the way of my straight thinking intelligence.
I don't like this.
Not one bit.

Especially when I don't learn from my mistakes. 
And that's the definition of insanity right?

Don't get me wrong, falling in love is worth acting like a crazy person.
But not once this year did I fall in love. Nope.

And I knew it all along.

Goddamn.
As a testament to how stupid it is that I am even thinking about something so meaningless, I'm calling it a day in blog world and going to watch some sitcoms.
At least I'll never be as insane as the non-existent.

;-)

Goodbye Bali

I'm off home today. 

My family have already gone home. It's just me alone in Kuta, summing up this mind fuck of a trip.

I guess the biggest thing I have come to realize is how wrong I was about Bali;

I always thought that Bali was a sad excuse for traveling overseas. Call me a bit of a snobby backpacker, but I was blessed with a kickass Dad who took me traveling every summer, and he consistently reiterated the fact that life should be a search for the road less traveled.

Kuta was everything I expected and more. Bogan Australians that were an absolute embarrassment to our people. They came to drink as much as they pleased without getting kicked out, ride in cabs or sway down the streets while shouting embarrassing obscenities to anyone and everyone, walk spaced out down the street after three mushie shakes marveling at lights and jumping into random hotel pools on the walk home (okay, so that last one was me) all the while surfing Bali's waves acting like they are 'so totally into' the culture and people. 

But I was wrong about everything else. 

Bali outside of Kuta, is beyond beautiful. It is magic.

But my biggest shock and realization is what I have discovered about the Balinese people.

The Balinese people are incredible. The kindness and friendliness that surrounds them is so beautiful, you can feel it in their huge, sometimes toothless, always genuine smiles.

On the day of the 10^th anniversary of the bombings, the beach/surf community of Kuta put on a ceremony down on the beach called Paddle for Peace. I spoke to one of the women running it and she told me they raised money all year to put it on, through hair braiding, making bracelets and painting nails on the beach, and there was no profit. 

It was simply done to show the Australians what their friendship means to Bali.

It was one of the most beautiful things I had ever seen.

After speaking to a few different Balinese people since arriving, it is clear what they all think of the bombings that happened.

I spoke to a man yesterday who was close to tears when the subject arose, he told me, when he found out my reason for visiting Bali, that he was sad because the Balinese loved the friendship with the Australians and the Balinese people would never do such a thing. He was careful and tactful in his words, not pointing the blame at any one culture or religion, which goes to show just how beautiful and peaceful they are. 

He even apologized for what happened. 

It was so beautiful and touching to hear their side and see the grief that they felt, even so many years later. 

It was a shock to see the different ways other people had been affected by terrorism. I've been so blinded by my families pain for so long, I forgot about the rest of the world.

One man mentioned to Bec how he, and so many others, felt embarrassed after the bombing that it happened to their friends, the Australians, on Bali land that we all loved so much.

I’m so glad I came and was able to see their side and thoughts on what happened here 10 years ago. To see that even old Balinese men still tear up over the friendship that was damaged and could have been lost makes me feel for them, and certainly want to return here and know these people better.

My Dad never wanted me to come here, because he was scared for my safety. The only reason I came this year is because I wanted to come for him, seeing as he made the promise to return every year for his sister.

After coming, meeting the Balinese people, being invited into their homes after only meeting them once or twice, laughing with them, joking with them, seeing how they are not selfish or money driven, and seeing how important our friendship is and what it means to them only makes me want to keep coming back here and help build that relationship back again.

I learnt a long time ago, no matter where you go, it’s the people that make the place.

This place is full of honest beauty and friendship.

<3

Conversations with Ketut...

Friday 19^th October

(If you didn't guess; a laptop and no internet equals pages and pages of ramblings in word documents. Give me time to sort through the nonsense; you'll see all the gratuitous and bullshit travel thoughts eventually)

Today was beautiful.

Just like the rest.

I woke up nice and early and Bec had already left our room to go and see a spiritual healer.

She seems to have the idea that being here in the mountains is going to give her some kind of miraculous spiritual awakening, and she is stopping at nothing to find it. I admire her so much in the way of her pro-activeness towards life in general. If she wants to be awakened and inspired, and she isn't waiting for the world. 

She'll shake magic from this mountain if it kills us all.

I went and had breakfast on my own, eating fresh fruit, suspicious looking sausages and freshly made omelettes, looking out over the Ubud mountains. 

Perfect way to start the day.

It baffles me that there are people in the world who actually live like this in their own day to day life. 

People say that if you're in that kind of situation, constantly surrounded by beauty (and in that case in this day and age, probably wealth) you forget to appreciate it, and what you loved in the beginning eventually loses its beauty.

 I honestly don't think I will ever be like that. 

No. I think if you truly love something, you'll always be able to see the beauty. 

And this place sure is beautiful!

I met Bec a little later on and we went on our way to go see Ketut Liyer, an old Balinese medicine man/magician/palm reader/artist.

To sum him up, a pretty funny and charismatic old dude with no teeth.

(To anyone who has read the book Eat Pray Love, he was included in the story; the main character, Liz, stayed at his homestay in Bali and became friends with him..snaps for commercialization America...thanks)

 

It was lovely being in the presence of someone who was just happy and positive. He never once stopped smiling and I don’t think I did either; It’s true that smiles are contagious! 

Being in the presence of someone who was peaceful and positive was a nice feeling. I felt relaxed and happy the whole time I spoke to him.

I felt clean and pure happiness.

While I completely believe some people have a gift to be able to see what is in somebodies future, be able to communicate with the dead, read palms and whatever else, I also remain skeptic every time I see these people. I think it’s important to keep your beliefs somewhere in the middle; don’t take it too seriously, but keep an open mind and let yourself have fun with it.

A lot of the Ubud locals agree that Ketut is much too old to be working as much as he does, which is probably true, but he told me of his health problems and how the money helps him with his operations, as well as his family. 

(Yeah, its also pretty commercial now since he was mentioned in a book and a film, which certainly takes away a lot of the magic. But I guess someday we are going to have to just accept the fact that every time something genuine comes to light, someone will be there to find a way to make a quick buck. It's just the world we live in.)

But like I said, take what you like and have fun with it.

Life was never meant to be taken too seriously.

 

In any case I have always found it most helpful to find a way so that whatever is said to you can impact your life positively and go from there, whether you believe it is true or not. 

This philosophy has helped me through not only a solid handful of ridiculous and bull shit ridden horoscopes, but also find guidance and council in countless overbearing family advice-fueled chats (Oh yes, you know the ones..)

He told me a lot of things that I think were pretty generic when it comes to girls; I would marry only once, be beautiful all my life, have two children and be successful in my work. 

All the kind of stuff that is safe and every girl wants to hear.

Ketut told me in my palm reading that I was too impatient in life, and that when it comes to work and love, I wanted everything to happen now. Which is true. I know the same could be said of anyone of my generation, but I have always known I am an extreme case. In both branches, love especially, I have never been one to just let things run their course. Work-wise, I guess that's a good thing; I managed my own retail store for a big chain by the time I was 19 because I wanted it. Love though, not the best way to be; instead of marching slowly with the ranks, I bolt across the battlefields, dropping every means of arms and defense I have.

 

He told me to step back, stay focused on school for now, finish school before letting love consume me again. He assured me that once I have finished school, and my career is good, love would come next. I wouldn't have to find it because it was close by all along.

He also told me I was beautiful, which of course is great to hear from anyone! He told me that I need to be careful once I am ready for a relationship again because lots of boys  who will be around me at that time, who may love me, are bad, and again, to be patient and wait for the good ones. 

 

Like I said; whether that is my fortune or the same has been said to thousands of other young girls, its good advice from a happy toothless old man who has seen much more of this life than I have.

more thoughts in my Bali dreamland.

17^th October 2012

We left the Gilli Islands today.

It sure was beautiful over there! 

 

We more or less spent every day eating our weight in delicious food, getting massages and swimming in the beautiful aqua ocean. It was nice being there with Bec and her friend. It left me free to just float around, do whatever they wanted and if I didn’t feel like it, drift off and do my own thing. It was a very chilled and easy atmosphere.

It was a significant change from the overthinking and emotional exhaustion that was being in Kuta.

 

We woke up this morning nice and early and went for one last snorkel in the deep and magical reef. 

Beautiful right? 

I have no doubt in my mind I was a mermaid in a past life.

I love being in the water, I think I spent more time holding my breath trying to get deeper into their world that actually breathing through the snorkel!

I came out dizzy and wishing I could live down there in the dreamy reef.

After a few hours of hot and sweaty travelling (the best kind!) we now find ourselves back in Bali and in the beautiful mountains of Ubud, right in the center of the island.

This place is so incredibly peaceful.

Bec and I managed to score ourselves a villa in a 5 star resort and spa (something that is absolutely unheard of for me when I travel!!) because the jacuzzi outside our room wasn’t working, so we got a sweet deal.

The place we are staying is absolutely wonderful, surrounded by mountains, relaxing freshwater pools, hardly a soul here, just the sound of birds, cats and a temple next door. It’s the kind of place you could easily forget the world outside, bang in the middle of the Bali mountains.

I guess every now and again its okay to put away the dirty backpack and treat yourself ;)

I just had the most relaxing massage of my life. Absolutley amazing. I feel so refreshed and peaceful.

During my massage I managed to learn something about myself; I have always considered myself a pretty relaxed and chilled person. But that hour, I honestly could not turn my mind off.

I have a butterfly mind. Always have. I know this.

(One of my friends actually said to me the other day, quite seriously, that he thought I may have a minor case of ADD, which would explain my short attention span!)

But I thought I would at least be able to relax and chill when absolutely nothing else mattered.

My train of thought was ridiculous, even turning into something unrelated and bizarre from me attempting to make myself concentrate on the music playing or my breathing.

I was relaxed, but my mind wasn’t clear.

I have decided I want to learn to clear my mind.

Afterwards I sat out in the garden and the lady gave me ginger and lemongrass tea and some sliced ginger.

It was a really nice and relaxing moment, sitting in that garden. I sat there with literally nothing to do but stare at where I was in the world, surrounded by mountains and in the most beautiful garden.

I thought about my life at home.

I never EVER just sit and do nothing. Even when I take myself out for a coffee or sit on a train. I am not programed to sit still; I am programmed to always be doing something, whether it is typing away on this, fiddling about with my phone, nothing worthwhile.

When was the last time I just sat and managed to turn off my mind? 

*******

Tomorrow we are waking up early to go and meet the cheeky monkeys of Ubud, which, seeing as monkeys are my absolute favorite animals, will be something fun and silly to enjoy in amongst all this relaxation and spiritual awakening ;-)

On Friday we are heading to meet Ketut Liyer, a Balinese magician/medicine man/artist/palm reader. I am really excited at the thought of getting to meet one of the worlds most intriguing men to many people.

I would really love to get a palm reading, just out of curiosity. But then, even just a chance to speak to him would be incredible.

Will report back kind strangers. Xxx

11th October 2012 - The bomb site.

-->
11th October 2012

I went to the bomb site today

It was surreal.

There were people and news reporters everywhere. It was anything but peaceful and tranquil. The site itself is being used as a carpark, which I knew about, but to see in real life was shocking in itself. 

 My Grandma showed me where it was believed the girls were standing right before the bomb went off, I stood about two meters away, to afraid to move closer.

I remember now back to the day my Dad was in hospital, how I stood metres away from the bedside for a long time before I went closer to him.

 

My Grandma left me alone at the site, which gave me time alone to think about everything. 

Being the day before the anniversary, there were quite a few people there, laying flowers and silently crying. I felt myself, so very out of character, starting to do the same. 

It must have been a full hour that I stood there, just looking into empty space, thinking about what this place did to my family, and everything that came after in the last 10 years. 

 

I met my Nan as the sun was setting, at the memorial site, and I helped her lay some flowers down.

 I went and bought a few bottles of Bintang, and had a drink there for my Dad. 

I figured that’s what he would have done.

 

As I stood in front of the memorial site drinking away, the band at the pub across the road began playing ‘Tears in Heaven’, a song I’ve always associated with Jodi as it was played at her funeral, and I stared up into the sky smiling.

*My Dad had a tattoo on his arm of two stars, one inside the other. He told me that when we was young and his first sister died, his Mum told him that the biggest star in the sky was Michelle looking down on him (Yeah, very Lion King..) so after Jodi died, he got the two stars for his two sisters who heaven had taken from him.

Two years ago I got a tattoo of a small star behind my ear for my Dad, for that very reason.

 

As I stood there at the memorial, drinking a Bintang for my Dad and Jodi, listening to the band across the road play tears in heaven, I put my head back and stared at the sky. There were no stars through the thick polluted sky, except one right above me.

It was a nice moment.

:)

To me, that’s what coming here was about.

Reconnecting with everything I have put behind me and not thought about and I have gone to pay my respects, and I did it the way my Dad would have for his little sister.