Confessions of a Bondi Blonde

What is a perfect moment?

For me, it may be:

• A baby’s hand curling around your finger.
• A hot cup of milky tea warming your hands as you watch the sun rise and your family sleeps on the first full day of your holiday.
• The birth of a wanted child.
• The warmth of a lover’s hand on the small of your back, protecting you, imparting safety and love while propelling you forward to an occasion of shared intimacies and soft laughter.
• A sleep-in on a rainy day after you’ve worked hard and when there is absolutely nothing that needs doing until lunch-time. You can roll over, stretch and sink back into soft, white clean pillows while the world hurries past to its deadline.
• An unexpected kiss from your beloved, on your shoulder, your neck, the top of your head.

 I have had all of the above at different times of my life. But being a busy, bossy, brittle, Bondi blonde has meant that, as these buds of joy flower in my life, I have often acknowledged them briefly with a distracted air; usually registering their beauty and filing it away, to be pulled from its chrysalis of memories and hopefully enjoyed at some later, more convenient time.

On Saturday I had a series of perfect moments  that I will carry in my heart to examine when the going gets tougher, as it does.  

I was up at the near dawn, awoken by my pre-schooler who decided to re-enact Batman Lego Playstation moves in my bed. I bore the brunt of his wee-filled night-time nappy landing on my head as he killed the bad guys with his shoot-gun and I accepted my fate, regretfully saying adieu to the sleep which had been my companion for the previous six hours. Arising from tousled sheets, I stood alone on my balcony, the war continuing on my mattress. Soft light filled the hollows of the valley with pastel colours. In the next five minutes the light hardened, a cockatoo screeched a morning greeting on his way to Centennial Park and I viewed the birthday party burdened, travel itinerary planned day with trepidation.

After feeding my savagely hungry children a quick breakfast we were off to the 8:00 am cricket at the local park where my children frolicked, playing like Australia in India; unfortunately. I was knocking back the first latte of the day when I ran into a friend with whom I had shared laughter, champagne and secrets with a few times. She runs a successful company to which I had pitched my rusty writing and PR skills, part of my strategy to keep my kids fed and sheltered without having to sell a vital organ. Our welcome hug got a little bit tighter when she told me I had won the job ahead of a slicker competitor, because I could do the job better. Imagine. Bringing home the bacon while being there for the children. So many women have to sacrifice the intimacies of parenting to fulfil employer expectations, commuting and diluting their lives into manageable chunks. Other women accept family friendly hours in McJobs, burning their brain cells on the pyre of family need. Now I am one of the lucky few who can be clever while working from home, being there for the children as well as having the extra money to feed them too. As an added benefit, I now have the perfect excuse to buy the cream patent leather shoes that have been tempting me at David Jones for far too long.

I surveyed a brighter 2009 as the sun got hotter and the children returned for hugs, kisses, water and a journey to our second destination of the day, a birthday party on Dangar Island, a 90 minute drive away.

It was a new thing for me being the long-distance driver. Childhood holidays always had my father at the wheel and the tradition had continued into my own family life. Being a single mum put me firmly behind the wheel and although it felt a little strange for a while to be the head of the family outside as well as inside the house, we all survived the journey, no matter how out of tune the singing was or how tired the kids got of playing “who can spot the red car, blue car, black car, first” game. A  nine year old’s birthday party, the reason for our trip, may have been the nicest time I have had this year. It was simple and relaxing and a joy to see my children playing as part of an extended group of almost-family while I shared laughter and champagne with their parents;  we splashed into the long afternoon in water phosphorescent with sunshine and sunscreen.

On the ferry back to Brooklyn we sang 10 green bottles and other silly songs, the children’s words slurred from fatigue and from mouths half-filled with lollies from the party treat bags. During the car journey back home, my precious cargo quickly fell asleep, their faces innocent and flushed with sunburn and youth. Surveying them through the rear view mirror, I felt a long lost peace descend. Nobody had told me that there would be wonderful days like these.

The moments of perfection in life are rare and fleeting. We should store them safely, like shells we find on the beach; memories of other, happier times and examine them when we need a little reminder that things do get better. Day follows night just as much as night follows day.

So as other little jigsaw pieces of life slide into my heart, some making me melancholy, others contemplative, others hopeful, I am getting better at avoiding the sharper fragments. Just to up the sugar content to “dangerous to diabetics”, I’ll end with another perfect moment of mine, a favourite poem by e e cummings.

‘i carry your heart with me(i carry it in
my heart)i am never without it(anywhere
i go you go,my dear;and whatever is done
by only me is your doing,my darling)
                                                            i fear
no fate(for you are my fate,my sweet)i want
no world(for beautiful you are my world, my true)
and it’s you are whatever a moon has always meant
and whatever a sun will always sing is you’

‘here is the deepest secret nobody knows
(here is the root of the root and the bud of the bud
and the sky of the sky of a tree called life; which grows
higher than the soul can hope or the mind can hide)
and this is the wonder that’s keeping the stars apart’

‘I carry your heart(i carry it in my heart)’

So, know that when you are being buffeted about in a perfect storm, a perfect moment or a perfect calm or will arrive in time, just hold on.

 

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