Where do I begin?

Beginnings are HARD.

Image credit: https://www.loishermann.com/year-new-beginnings/

Writing one for this post is proving to be problematic. It's Monday (a bit of the old Captain Obvious there) and the beginning of another week full of exciting things. Using exciting in the sense of rather ordinary. Additionally, another week ended in which I did not suddenly become a millionaire. RUDE. Because I was all set to begin my new life of luxury. 

And while we're on the subject of beginnings, which we are. 
Just an FYI there. Because I do tend to waffle and have a short attention span.  I can't promise I won't meander onto another subject mid paragraph...

What were we talking about again? Oh, yeah. Beginnings. 

Life began for me one balmy day on January 15th 1971. Well, I assume it was balmy. I don't actually remember. That would be pretty impressive if I could, but I can't even remember five minutes ago let alone the day I was born. However, it's a fair guess, 
considering that January is summer time in the good old land of Oz. Also known as Australia. Which is where I was born. Each birthday I do remember has always been hideously hot. 

In a surprising coincidence I was born in a hospital in the same suburb where I currently live 45 years later. Yes, I've gone far in life. Winning! 

According to my Mum I was rather reluctant to leave the cosy cocoon of her womb. She spent hours and HOURS in labour. I finally arrived at around 6 pm. Just in time for dinner. Typical. 

Throughout my life I've shown a distinct lack of interest in beginning each day. Read that as I hated getting out of bed. Mum would be calling me and trying to wake me. When I finally surfaced I was grumpy and surly. Beware anyone who committed the heinous act of glancing sideways at me. Especially my brother. 

"Muuuuuum!" I would wail "Mark's LOOKING at me!"

As an adult I'm still not a morning person. I never spring out of bed eager to begin my day. 

In 1976 I began kindergarten. I remember clutching a red suitcase, unimpressed by the proceedings. 

Many years later I was terrified of the new beginning called high school. Even more scared when it ended. I had no idea what I wanted to do when I grew up. Still don't. 

But I trudged off to TAFE and a couple of years later I finally began working. It was a shaky start and I never really found my footing career wise. Enter Mickey Blue Eyes and the beginning of being a wife and then a mother. 


Without a doubt the scariest beginning was my breast cancer diagnonsense. I began the most challenging ride of my life. And now it's all over and yet only just begun.The start of a 'new kind of normal'. Adjusting to life as a breast cancer survivor. Have I mentioned that that I don't really like pink?  Yes, I WILL survive. Now let's all break into a rousing chorus of the old Gloria Gaynor hit.

Hang on, I prefer The Carpenters. And this song fits in with the theme of the post. Sorry, I couldn't help myself. 

I even tried to write an eloquent and deep poem about beginnings full of  my thoughts and feelings and shit. Totally nailed the shit part.

Check it out:


This poem needs to have a snappy beginning
To hook you and have you instantly grinning
Something unique, using words to entice
To make you read on, and then read it twice

So why do I sit and just stare at the screen?
How do I begin? And what do I mean?
There must be interesting words I can write
To make you a fan of this glorious site

All I have to do is simply commence
Just tap away, I don't have to make sense
Think about all the beginnings in my life
As a daughter, a sister, a friend and a wife

Even then my life had only just begun
When I was expecting son number one
The start of this thing called being a mother
Then soon I welcomed his cute baby brother

A family of two had now become four
But wait, said fate, there has to be more
Alas. our dear baby boy number three
Didn't survive, it just wasn't to be

Dismal days with housework a bore
The joyful birth of boy number four
Along the way, many shaky starts
Fears and struggles with heavy hearts

But for every beginning, there is an end
To make way for change and start again
Seasons change, days come and go
Learning to live with this constant flow

Decisions to make, life is curious
Emotions change, joyful then furious
Bored, elated, forlorn or excited
Impatient, determined, defeated, delighted
Battles fought and ultimately won
Playing The Carpenters We've Only Just Begun

Beginnings are hard, but so is the end
I fear you may never read here again
Through all our beginnings we're never alone
And that is the end of this woeful poem.



You're welcome. 

Linking up for Life This Week.

How do you feel about beginnings? 

Which song do you think of? 

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We've Only Just Begun...

It was November 11th, 1995.  I woke up vaguely aware that something important was about to happen.  Bleary eyed and dazed I sat up and realised with a start that I was back in my old bedroom at my parents house.

Then I saw it. A lacy frock.  Made my my Mum- The Legend.  Yes, it was November 11th, 1995, and I was getting married to Micky Blue Eyes today. 

Suddenly, lush harp and violin music swelled and doves cooed outside my window. No, not really.  But the sun was shining, so that was a bonus.

I would love to be able to say that I remember every detail of this momentous occasion in vivid, techni-colour detail, but, alas, I don't remember five minutes ago, I'm a space cadet and...um, what was I on about?

Oh, that's right. Our wedding.

But you should remember your wedding. It's the most important day of your life, right? Romantic books and movies would have you believe that anyway. Here's the bits I do remember.

I remember that I felt surprisingly and amazingly calm.  I didn't have a minutes doubt, cold feet or nerves or little voices in my head telling me I was making a mistake.  I took that as a good sign.  I have since been a bridesmaid twice at my brother and sister-in-laws wedding and also for my good friends, Kim and Ziggy.I was as nervous as HELL.  Go figure.

I also remember that it took an aeon to get ready.  Who knew it could take ALL DAY just to frock up and have your hair and make-up done?  But it did.  Thank God I got maried at 24. Imagine how long it would take at a more mature age to put all the spak filler into your creases.  I'd have to get Botox. That would scare me even more than the thought of actually getting married.

In the midst of all this frockery, make-up and Macca's for lunch, fetched by my Dad,  (such a classy wedding lunch, in keeping with the general classiness and elegance of the day) a huge bouquet of red roses arrived. For me!

"But who would be sending me roses?" I asked, bewildered.
"Mick, of course!" Mum insisted "Who else?"
"No, he wouldn't do that." I said. He wasn't exactly a romantic, hearts, flowers and poetry kind of guy,so for some reason I couldn't picture it.  Then I read the card.

This is the happiest day of my life. See you at the Church. Love Mick.

Oh. That is romantic. I teared up.  Just slightly. But I didn't want to ruin the make-up that had just taken two hours to put on, so I had to snap out of it quickly.

I had 3 bridesmaids and a junior bridesmaid. Once we were all frocked up, the photographer arrived. With  a name like Doug, we were expecting a rather typical Aussie bloke. However, Dougie, as we called him, had a very heavy foreign accent.  Nobody could understand a word he said.

This made things interesting. But with a lot of gesturing and pointing he managed to get us all into various positions and took some snaps.  All in all he did a pretty good job, acheiving some rather charming shots.  I am particularly fond of these ones. 

I think they have a certain charm. Don't you?

Anyhow, for some reason, which I still haven't figured out almost 17 years later, we suddenly got into a mad panic and flurry of activity when the cars arrived.  We all piled in and they sped down the motorway, arriving at the church too early.  The bride is supposed to be traditionally late!

This necessitated driving around the block and sitting there for a while to pass some time. I suppose we could have gone to Macca's drive through, but we'd already had that. Finally we made our way to the Church.

I was still calm without the the need for valium which surprised me. There were a few gawkers peering over the fence.  Then we all lined up at the Church entrance and the Wedding March began.

I know. You were expecting me to say We've Only Just Begun started weren't you?  Sigh.  I should have had a Carpenters song, but they only had organ music and I didn't think I would like it played on an organ.

The moment had arrived. I took my Dad's arm and walked down the aisle.  All that build up to that moment and it was over in seconds.  Plus, being short-sighted I couldn't really see much. It could have been anybody waiting at the altar wearing a formal suit and a silly grin. I'd decided not to wear my glasses and stupidly didn't think of getting contacts.  The thought of having to poke them onto my eyeballs kind of unnerved me.

Luckily it was Micky Blue Eyes in the suit and silly grin.  Father John said a few words. I remember him saying something like "No doubt you'll back at this day in years to come and think: We looked pretty good in those days." Spot on. Sigh.Then came the vows.

I deliberately made a supreme effort to speak louder so everyone could hear me. It worked, apparently. Next thing I knew we were officially married!  I was going to have to get used to being Mrs C.  Then came the official signing of the papers, more photos and everyone congratualting us. Overwhelming!

Another ride in the jag to the reception, then more photos. My jaw ached from smiling.  Mick got to take it easy in a few casual shots. 

The highlight of the evening was undoubtedly Mick's speech, when he got tongue tied trying to thank his parents and ended up thanking them for "Bringing me up under a roof that didn't leak..." Everyone cracked up.  An embarrassed Mick said "I didn't mean it to be that funny." Which cracked everyone up even more.

Then there was the stunning cake, made by my Aunty Helen. For the cutting of which, I finally got my Carpenters song.  An obscure one called "You're The One" and the bastards cut the song off half way. GRRRR.

Then we made our way to the dance floor for an awkward, clutzy 'dance' to the Honeydrippers Sea of Love, Micky's choice as I'm not sure that any Carpenters songs are remotely danceable. 

And we'd only just begun..., blissfully unaware of what the next 17 years would hold.

Linking up with Cathy from The Camera Chronicles for Flashback Friday.

What was your Wedding like? Or, if you're not married, what would be your dream Wedding? Love Weddings? Loathe them?

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