2010: it's a wrap

Another year almost done... In Decembers past I have posted a wrap up of the year's most gleeful happenings without any attempt to weigh up the good with the bad because this blog is not concerned with bad stuff.

But this year that approach doesn't feel right. Good things  - wonderful things - have happened, but 2010 has been the worst year of my life. As many of you know, my father died in April after being diagnosed with a terminal illness at the start of January. There's probably nothing that could balance the 2010 scales of happiness after that. I'm not happy really (for various reasons related and unrelated to losing Dad), but I'm working on it.

That said, although Dad's illness and death were harrowing, difficult times are fertile ground for personal growth, and so it was for me.

I realised I am much stronger than I thought. You don't really know what you're capable of until you have to face it head on and just get on with it. I have more faith in myself now. I know that whatever happens, I'll get through it. That's a nice feeling.

I never thought I would be able to stand up in front of all those people at Dad's funeral and speak, but I had to do it for my Dad and I did (I looked at my hands just before I stood up to speak and they weren't even trembling). I can only describe the way I felt afterwards as euphoric. It was an awful day, but an amazing day.

Anyway, enough of the bad-but-good stuff. Here's the unadulterated good bits:

* My trip to New York  was far and away the best bit of 2010, because it was my first ever trip overseas AND I WENT TO NEW YORK! I fell instantly in love with the place. I had the best time and I'm already thinking of going back.

Taking an overseas trip was the number one thing on my list of 101 Things to do Before I'm 40 and I crossed it off before the year was half over. I finally went to another country! Finally!

* Not only did I take my first overseas trip, I did it on my own. I'd never wanted to travel alone before (partly why I got to 38 without having travelled) and before Dad died I was a bit scared about it. I wasn't sure how I'd go. But after his funeral, I wasn't worried at all and I didn't need to be. I hit the ground running - I wasn't scared, I didn't feel overwhelmed, I didn't get lost, I didn't miss any flights and I cruised the subway like a native (well, almost). I felt damned pleased with myself!

* I finally quit the mind numbing job that had me feeling like I was wasting my life away. It was like shedding an old skin and did wonders for my state of mind (albeit temporarily).

* I've had no trouble finding new jobs, even if I haven't settled into a permanent role yet. Despite feeling initially overwhelmed (particularly in my first temp role), I've surprised myself how with quickly I've got the hang of things. I have more confidence in my abilities now.

* I'm working in the area of law I always wanted to work in and I'm working in a top tier firm - it's a looooooooooooong way away from my old job at the firm with 15 people!

What a year of high highs and low lows. It certainly hasn't been boring! It's been a period  of personal growth and some progress in a few areas where changes needed to be made. I'm not where I want to be, but I'm facing in the right direction at least.

I'm looking foward to 2011. It's going to be hard for it to be worse than this year, but I'll probably also have to work at making it better than this year.  I want to go overseas again, get settled into a permanent job once more, get some of my health issues sorted and...well, I'd like to be in a relationship again. I've had enough of singledom.

You never know what's around the corner...

And lastly....

As always, I've had lots of lovely feedback from you guys. I always say I write this blog for me, but really, it just wouldn't be the same without the comments and emails from you. It's gratifying to know people are reading my nerdy little ramblings (and more so that they keep coming back to read more). You have consistently been a source of glee. Thank you, thank you, thank you. 

Wishing you a gleeful festive season and good health and happiness in 2011.

* I'm visiting my mum for Christmas from 24 December until 2 January so posting will be sporadic at best.

A tough day turns out well

A quick stop at the Williamstown waterfront before the funeral

It was my Dad's funeral today and I amazed myself by delivering a speech and doing it pretty well. I never imagined that I had it in me not only to speak in front of so many people, but to speak publicly at such an emotional time.

I haven't done any public speaking since....well, probably since Year 12, and I'm not an outgoing type who loves being centre stage. But I did it! I even ad libbed a bit.

It was weird how calm I was leading up to it. I thought I would be wobbly-legged and all a-tremble, but I wasn't. I was determined to do it for my Dad and I did.

I felt elated after it was over - a combination of relief that it was out of the way and immense pride at doing it as well as I did. It's wonderful to discover strength you never knew you had.

And to have everyone tell me how well I did, that they were proud of me and that my Dad would be proud was the cherry on top.  

It's been a sad day, but also a good day. Laughter through tears.

Watching over me?

Tonight while I was sitting at Grill'd on Degraves Street waiting for my burger to arrive, one of my Dad's old favourite songs came on the stereo - Judy in Disguise by John Fred and His Playboys. I couldn't believe it.

I have seriously never heard this song played by anyone anywhere else in all my 37 years, except for when my Dad played it (and now when it comes on my iPod). I got a bit teary, but it was nice.

It was a number one hit in 1968 when my Dad was 18. He and my mum used to hoon around in his Mini Cooper S (with giant daisies on the doors) with Judy in Disguise blaring.

This is the song:

Laughter through tears

"Life is not meant to be easy, my child; but take courage: it can also be delightful"

This George Bernard Shaw quote, which I heard in conversation at a friend's birthday party, helped to inspire me to start this blog back on 1 September 2008. But this year, the quote has become more of a personal mantra. You see, 2010 has not been a good year for me and my family... 

I have hinted at these difficulties in a few recent posts, but now I have decided to reveal what has been happening, for several reasons. It would seem to go against the gleeful grain, but bear with me.

OK. This is what happened (deep breath): my father was diagnosed with a terminal illness in early January and he passed away yesterday. His doctors had given him a life expectancy of five years, but he was gone less than five months later, just making it beyond his 60th birthday. My quiet, funny, strong but soft-hearted, capable Dad...gone. Just like that. I still can't believe he got sick, let alone that he isn't here anymore.

This is the most difficult thing I have ever gone through in my life. After Dad was diagnosed, I was tempted to take a break from writing Gleeful. I thought, "How am I ever going to be happy again?" How would I find anything gleeful to write about, much less the enthusiasm to put fingers to keyboard?

But I soon realised how wrong-headed this was. I had a stern word with myself: Jayne, that is not the way we do things here, I said. If you stop writing now, you will be abandoning your faith in the idea that underpins this blog, that you can make yourself happier by being more mindful and appreciative of life's simple pleasures even when life isn't going your way.  If you really believe this is possible - and you do, dammit - you can't stop now. This ordeal will put that idea to the test like nothing else. 

And it has. And let me just tell you, this idea rocks (I can't claim it as my own). The past few four months - particularly the past four weeks - have been scary, emotional and exhausting, but they have also been delightful, in ways small and not so small.

The big delightful stuff

* It's empowering to face adversity and get through it. I was continually amazed at my ability to cope with things I never imagined that I would be able to get through. You just do what you have to do. I feel like I can face almost anything now. New York on my own for my first overseas trip? Pah! Piece of cake, baby. (Less than three weeks away now!)

* It's pretty darn nice when people tell you they admire the way you're handling things, that your Dad would be proud (even if you think they would probably do the same thing in your shoes).

* It brought me closer to my Dad and other members of my family. It also created a bond with my step-family, which didn't really exist before.

* It's strengthened my friendships and also brought me closer to people I've just met - or never met, like a legion of Twitter friends,  who have supported me through this, particularly in the past few weeks (Twitter really helped get me through the nights on my own at the hospital with Dad). Times like this make you realise that people are actually wonderful. Not that I'm a misanthrope, but sometimes we all need a little reminder. Every day lately I've been moved by the kindness and generosity of friends and strangers offering both practical and emotional support - or just a distraction.  If any of you are reading, you are awesome and I'm so glad to know you.

* It's made me appreciate (all over again) how lucky I am. Yes, really. I'm lucky I got to know my Dad as an adult, unlike a lot of people who lose a parent when they're young. I'm lucky I got to say goodbye. I'm lucky I've made it to 37 before going through something this tough. I've led a charmed life, really. There are so, so many people far worse off than I am.

Small delights

Even in the past few days, I've continued on my glee-spotting way. I honestly think I can't help it now. It's second nature. I'm inveterate. Here's some of the things that buoyed me up:

*  On Friday, two books I ordered from Amazon arrived unexpectedly early. One was the Book of Awesome, which I blogged about recently. It is indeed awesome. I adore it. I started to read it while sitting at Dad's bedside. I laughed out loud. I smiled. Its bite-size chunks of text made it perfect reading for the circumstances. 

* The other book was the pop up version of my favourite Dr Seuss book - Oh, The Places You'll Go! I read this at Dad's bedside too and it was also very fitting, being about getting through life's ups and downs, as it is. And the pop-uppiness of it is fantastic. Very detailed and intricate and just all round awesome. I'm very taken with it. I will post some pictures of it later on.

* Music. The CDs I bought last week (or whenever it was - time has passed in a blur) have really grown on me. The Angus and Julia Stone CD is heart-achingly, simply, delicately beautiful. The White Stripes live CD rocks - I love it more than I expected. Florence and the Machine is fantastic. All of them will remind me of this hard time in my life and I'm OK with that.

* One day last weekend I was walking down the steps of Flinders Street Station to the sound of a busker playing the bagpipes. I put my earphones in to listen to my iPod and...all I could hear was the bagpipes! What the dickens! The busker is in my iPod! What's going on!? As I crossed at the lights, I realised it was the bagpipe introduction of the White Stripes' live CD! The music was exactly the same (but then it was the bagpipes...).

* Last week I went to Myer to buy some travel accessories and a backpack for my trip. I arrived there to find 40% off travel goods. All right! Good timing, me! I got about $140 worth of stuff for $80, and I used a gift card to pay for $70 of it. I also got a $20 voucher for spending more than $75. Sometimes things just fall into place...

* Made up words. I made up a new portmanteau word - evilsome, which is awesome and evil at the same time. One of my Twitter friends used the word "whimmy" - in the mood to do something on a whim.

* Twitter helped me procure a gluten-free pizza while I was at the hospital. I idly tweeted "I wonder if I could get a gluten-free pizza delivered to the hospital?" A Twitter pal (the whimmy one, who is coeliac) replied with the details of a nearby place that does GF pizza. I rang them up and got it delivered. Never let it be said that Twitter is pointless.

* My friend's three-year-old son Nathan. He is such an adorable little boy. My friend told him I might be visiting and that I might be sad, and he replied with: "But Jayne is my aunty and I love her. She can't be sad if I love her." Aaaaws. My heart went melty. My friend tried to explain (as much as you can to a small child) why I was sad and he said that he would call Spiderman and ask him to look after my Dad. Gorgeous. 

* Silly (and pleasantly distracting) Twitter conversations. I've been engaged in an ongoing exchange of words that sound dirty but aren't necessarily with one Twitter friend (eg flap, spatchcock). It's gone on for days and occasionally drawn in other participants. Juvenile, yes, but fun. I'm also constructing a Twitter fantasty in which I am Bionic Librarian, a cardigan-clad superhero fighting ignorance and stupidity with my trusty sidekick, Mysterious Library Aficianado (whose catchphrase is, "If you'd only read more books, I wouldn't have to kick your ass"), my Pearls of Destruction and Forcefield of Silence. Heeee.

* Saying "Laffter through tears is mah favourite ee-motion" (that's a Southern American drawl), a line from the movie Steel Magnolias, which I always think of when I laugh while I'm sad. There's been a bit of that lately, as you can imagine.

Last night I decided that I would write a post here every day until I leave for New York on May 14. And that's what I'm gonna do.