Beginnings and Endings

Eloise’s Foundation class notched up 100 Days at School recently. It was a big deal. Miss Emma organised games and activities and put on a spread. They made posters and badges with 100 emblazoned proudly and were paraded before a full-school assembly. An extrovert and show-off, it was the least Eloise felt she deserved.

 

The principal reckons Eloise could run the place. She knows everyone by name and what they do at the school. She greets every visitor to the classroom, asks them what they want, offers to help.

 

On her school report, Miss Emma wrote ‘Eloise is extremely social’ and loves telling her class mates about her holiday to Sydney and her cat, Simba. Read between the lines on tht one.

 

Eloise is fully immersed in the school community. She has dance lessons at lunch time and everyday I have to drag her away from after school care. Last week, she ate hot dogs and bounced away on the jumping castle during celebrations for the anniversary of the saint after who the school is named.

 

This week is Book Week and after a fair amount of debate, and at least one sleepless night, she’s decided to dress up as Sleeping Beauty.

 

Linda and I tag-team the constant run of weekend birthday parties.

 

I can’t express in words the gratitude and relief I feel to see Eloise so happy and loved at school.

 

But life knocks you sideways sometimes.

 

This morning, as Eloise and I were loading up for a shopping trip, and the cheers and groans of a junior footy grand final floated across Edwarde’s Lake, my sister Anne phoned. She had just spoken to mum. Bruce, family friend in Warrnambool, has been diagnosed with pancreatic cancer.

 

Mary, Bruce and the three boys are practically family; mum and dad are token grandparents.

 

My stomach fell through the floor. I sat in the driveway, watching the rain explode on the windscreen, as my mind struggled to process the news.

 

‘Let’s go Daddy’, Eloise said, bringing me back to the present.

 

Later, Mum called and said Mary, Bruce’s wife, visited before Mass to break the news. Bruce has more tests to come but it doesn’t look good. The cancer has already started to spread. Mum sounded shaken. She will turn to prayer to make sense of this.

 

I’m no philosopher, and if I were, this is not the platform for lengthy dialogue about life and death.

 

But the longer I live and the more I see, I’ve come to accept the fragility of life. Becoming a parent has played a role in this as well.

 

Life’s about beginnings and endings.

 

We’re just travellers here, passing through. And most of us don’t know for how long, or how it’s going to end.

 

And that’s a good thing, in a way, isn’t it? It reminds us life isn’t always about us and we aren’t in control.

 

Life, fate, God, luck, whoever, whatever, is running the show.

 

We just need to do our bit when we’re here, and bottle the beautiful moments along the way.