I miss this lady.
And all the glorious wild places she used to go all over Tasmania.
And how alive and joyful climbing mountains, bike riding and body surfing and used to make her feel.
How she could do so much digging, planting, cooking, shopping, carrying heavy things, multi-tasking and organising, and only be a little bit tired afterwards.
I miss how she could be engaged and interested in the world, and also make stuff happen.
I miss how she could be gregarious, generous, friendly and welcoming.
I especially miss how much she used to laugh when playing silly games with friends, without worrying she'd feel sick later, just from the exertion of laughing.
I miss how she assumed that she could rely on her body to get better when she got sick.
I miss that she used to eat everything and anything with relish and gusto, without worrying if it would affect her symptoms.
I miss her imagination about what her future might be like. Maybe having a family, growing food and having adventures with small people or pets in Tasmania. Or if not, adventures anyway, and pursuing meaningful work in environmental rehabilitation and education.
But she's also doing ok after a totally unexpected curve ball that knocked her off that path, into a much slower life of chronic illness.
So far she's been lucky enough to be held in a supportive, stable place by friends and family. And there's been a lot of patience, adaptation and softening. Stillness and simplicity. Acceptance that not many of us do get to live the lives we expect. And no less beauty, despite the much smaller spatial and energetic envelope she lives in.
Before was better. But she's doing alright.
