From Paris.

Yesterday morning I struggled. I had set my alarm the night before with the intention of getting up early and going to the gym before Colby would have to leave Georgia and I for the day. But when that alarm sounded at 6am, my mind instantly turned to those negative thoughts I allow to creep back in from time to time. Those thoughts about Georgia’s condition that serve no purpose. I had been struggling with these same thoughts a few days ago too and received some advice from a friend and old work colleague I really admire for her positive outlook on life, despite having faced her own personal challenges in the past. She had said to me:

“The key to living with negative thoughts, is to see them, sit with them for the pocket of time they want to dance around your head, and then remind yourself that they’re not serving you. They’re fucking useless. They’re not helping, they’re not giving you great ideas, they’re not a true prediction of any future, they’re not making you feel good. So close the curtain on them. The lawyer in you can call them out as the piece of shit evidence they are. They’re useless.”

But yesterday, I let those thoughts beat me. So I grabbed Georgia and we went back to bed, pulling the covers over my head.

Then my phone buzzed. 1 new email. It was from my brother currently living abroad in Paris. I opened it and began to read…

Dear Loren,

I wanted to write to you to express my support and my love for you in what I can only imagine must be a very trying time. I bitterly regret that I am not able to be there for you and the rest of the family at this time; never have I felt so keenly the pain of distance between myself and the people I love back home.

As I said to you just after Georgia was born, it is a very brave act bringing another human being into this world. I suspect that it is only now however that we are truly coming to grips with the enormous reservoirs of courage required to be a parent. I have always suspected that I do not have the strength to be a parent; but I only know this about myself because I have seen the very same strength I lack exhibited by the women of our family. I see it in our own mother, and the incredible devotion and unconditional love she gave and continues to give to us; I have seen it in Nana, hearing the stories of the pain and suffering she endured for the sake of her children; and I have seen it in you. I know you have what it takes to get through this; I know you are more than capable of the enormous love that Georgia will need as she grows; and I know you and your daughter will grow together into something quite magnificent.

Of course, this is not to diminish the shock that you must still be feeling. I can only imagine how it must feel to have the entire narrative of what you thought your life was going to be transformed utterly in an instant. We all have ideas and plans for how we think our lives will turn out; sometimes we need these imaginary horizons to get us through the day. So to have that taken away and rearranged in such a radical fashion can only be experienced as a trauma. You should not feel guilty for feeling shell-shocked: such a reaction is natural, and you need to give yourself the time to process this. I know you are the kind of person who thrives on action and movement and industry, but I would encourage you to take the time to meditate on your feelings, let them wash over you naturally, and you will be the better for it in the long run.

I read your blog post yesterday and was incredibly moved. I myself have always found writing to be somewhat therapeutic: there is something about the act of sitting down and thinking slowly and putting these considered thoughts into words that helps us come to terms with our fate. I can only encourage you to continue in this vein: keep writing and sharing your experiences.

Georgia is unbelievably lucky to have such a capable, driven and intelligent mother such as you. There is not a doubt in my mind that both you and she will flourish together. As I said to mum the other day on the phone: “Loren always was the strongest of us three kids.”

I cannot wait for the day when I get back to Australia and I get to meet my beautiful niece and lavish all the love I can muster on her and her mother. As far away as I am right now, please know that you are in my thoughts.

Your loving brother,

Jackson

I read it again. And then once more, before I decided it was time to pull my shit together and get up. So I got dressed, turned the speaker on to my favourite song at the moment (Birdy- Wild Horses (Sam Feldt Remix)), picked Georgia up into my arms and danced in the kitchen. We danced, just me and my queen, with no one else around, or watching.

Dear Jackson,

I hope you don’t mind me sharing your email, but today you were the strength I needed. All the way from Paris.

I miss you and I love you.

Your loving sister

Loren