Showing blog posts tagged with: merrymaking

More beads for my string

by Hilla Duka - View comments

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On Saturday, we all mustered all our energy, weathered the heat, and packed ourselves into two cars to head for Kolmården. The trip by car is not far (probably like an hour and a half), but with three kids who are not used to travelling further than school, some breaks were needed. The kids were excited, I was apprehensive. How on earth would I have the energy to do this??? And not just the walking around, but the being around so many people, not having a comfortable place to sit, god - the fears were never-ending! 

fox at Kolmarden

tiger at kolmarden

sea lion at kolmarden

But we got through it, we saw all the animals, we rode in the funicular safari, and best of all - Jacob got to see the dolphins. He's been wishing to swim with dolphins for years, but has never actually seen them in real life. He was absolutely transfixed, watching as they swam and jumped and skidded across the water, laughing as they performed their tricks. It was magical to see! All of the kids loved the show (as inspite of myself, so did I. I normally have very strict opinions on animals being constricted to small spaces and learning tricks for the benefits of humans, but decided to put all those feelings aside for the day), loved seeing the animals and riding the little roller coaster shaped like a dolphin. 

 

It was unbelievably hot, the kids were occasionally cranky, so was I to be perfectly honest. In the end, I was too tired to take another step, as I've got a slight tendency to overdo it (ok, I'll run myself down before I can accept defeat, if I'm being very honest about it). Still, it was a lovely day, I'm so happy to have done it! Next year, I hope to go back with them. Next year... It's hard to find the right balance between making plans for the future (as is so typically human), and accepting that the only thing we have is right now, and the future is uncertain. This is true for all of us, not just those of us adjusting to life with advanced cancers, but we seem to have such a hard time remembering it.

 

The past is gone, and the future is unwritten. It took  me a long time after the diagnosis to understand this. To understand that what I was grieving was something that had already happened, and something that had never really been there in the first place. I grieved the fact that I had breast cancer as though that was something that happened when I was told about it. But the truth is, it had been happening for years without my knowing it. And I grieved the future I had planned, as though I was entitled to it. Then I got my head around it, and realised that even if I was just finding out about it, I had already been living with cancer, perhaps for years. Just because it was new to me, didn't mean that it was new. It's sort of like being cheated on - you find out after it's already happened, it's new to you and it changes the way you look at the past, but it doesn't change the past. And just the same way, the future I was imagining, was not real. It never had been. I was grieving an idea. 

 

And when the past is lost to you, and you understand that the future is unwritten and yours is not the only hand doing the writing, something changes inside you. Because all of a sudden, the only thing you truly have, is this moment. No matter how hard I fight, how determined I am to be a miracle patient, to be there for my boys, the only thing I can truly control, indeed the only thing that's actually real and not rewritten or made up of hopes and dreams, is the now. I wont make plans for the future - when it comes, if it comes, I will let it happen, grab life by the throat and make the most of it. I still plan on surviving, I still choose to remain unrealistically hopeful, but my main focus is on right now. I will enjoy the right now, I will squeeze as much as I can get from it, and when it becomes the past, I will cherish the good memories and let go of the rest. 

 

Right now, I'm sitting on my comfy chair on my beloved balcony, enjoying the breeze and the fact that it's not suffocatingly hot anymore, the kids tucked up in the sofa just inside, watching Tinkerbell, tired after a day by the pool. In a moment, I'll go in and join them, squeeze myself in next to them and cuddle them and smell their necks. And I'll enjoy the hell out of that moment as well. And what I've learned is that it's worth it to keep challenging yourself, t do things that scare you, even though you worry how your going to get through them, because you'll have a wonderful time doing it, and then you get that precious memory to keep. And if it all goes poop shaped, it will soon be in the past, and you can choose not to dwell on it! 


Milo inspecting the elephants. The baby one was cute, but the others a bit scary!


On the Safari tour high up in the trees!


At times, it was a long way down, and sitting on the lap felt safer.


Looking for lions


On the roller coaster for the second time - this time their grandfather got to take them, as my legs and my tummy were not up for another ride...


Bucket lists and expectations

by Hilla Duka - View comments

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Once, the idea of getting old scared me. Then I reconciled myself with it - thinking it happens to everyone. Getting old is something we've come to expect, we think of living until we're ninety, or at the very least eighty, as a right, as default. The thing is, it's not. Getting old means having hit the jackpot. It's my ultimate hope and goal that I get to grow old, with my loved ones around me. Soon I'm turning 35, and truth be told, I can't know for sure or even expect to turn 40. If I do, I will most likely be the happiest, least neurotic forty year old ever! For now, I'll be happy and grateful for turning 35. For this day, and for, hopefully, tomorrow. 

 

When I turned 25 I was at such peace with my age. I was exactly where I wanted to be, everything on my bucket list neatly checked. When I was about to turn 30, I started thinking about what was on my bucket list at that point, what I wanted to have done and experienced by the time I actually turned 30. It wasn't very much or very thrilling, I wanted a change of career, to drive a forklift truck, a trip to the sun with the kids, to visit my grandmother with all three kids... Might not sound like much, but they were on my bucket list. I did some, but not all, and went quite happily into my thirties. Now I'm about to turn 35, and I don't have a bucket list anymore. I don't wish for money, a better career (I love the one I have, and hope to be able to return to it soon!), I don't need a big house or to travel to remote parts of the world. What I really wish for, is time. Time, and everyday life. Small things like making the kids breakfast, seeing them experience new things, learning, having fun... Saying good night and knowing I'll see them in the morning. Those are the things I wish for most of all, and yet they are the things that we all take for granted. The best bits of everyday life turn into little gems of memories, like beads on a strand, and I gingerly collect them; greedily asking for more.

 

My sweet friends Cattis and Cissi from work, and Cissi's husband Hasse, gave us one of those precious experiences when they offered to take all of us out on their boat. The kids were absolutely thrilled with the idea of going on a boat, visiting a small uninhabited island, roasting marshmallows and going off exploring. It was just magical and beautiful, and seing the kids so happy and excited did wonders for me. More treasured beads for me to collect - the look on my sons faces when they were allowed to try to steer the boat, jumping into the cool water, or simply sitting at the front of the boat as it cut through the water. We climbed into bed way later than their normal bed time, exhausted and sleepy and utterly content.  I'm so, so grateful!

 


Birthday circus

by Hilla Duka - View comments

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Milo turned five a few weeks ago, and for his birthday got a trip to the circus for the whole family. While I was less than thrilled, all of the kids where excited to go - all though Jacob expressed some concers about the clowns and whether or not they where frightening. 

 

We all ended up having a wonderful time. The kids from watching the show, and me from watching the kids. It really was amazing seeing how they reacted to all of it. Jonathan with shining eyes, on the edge of his seat, laughing and clapping. Milo watching, and without realising it doing the movements along with the performers. And Jacob sitting as still as a statue, nothing registering on the outside, just taking it all in. He was quite concerned about the elephants, and had that one lost its tusks, and did she not look sad. He is such an animal lover...

One of the best things, as far as the boys where  concerned, was the candy floss. Milo ended up having spun sugar all over his face, his hair - everywhere. After the show two kids where asleep, while the third declared it to have been the best night of his life. All in all - worth it. 


Happy IHAD!

by Hilla Duka - View comments

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Happy IHAD, or International Hilla Appreciation Day!

Today is my birthday, though a few years ago I changed it and instead founded IHAD - a day of sipping champagne (whilst staying only tipsy the whole day, it's harder than it sounds!) and people come from near and far (though mostly near, to be honest) to tell me how wonderfull I am. Those are the only rules, the rest you play by ear, but there must be champagne and compliments. 

When I established IHAD a few years ago, I was getting painfully aware that I was no longer simply thirty, but in my thirties. This took the fun out of my birthday, and of course, part of the brilliance of the IHAD is that it doesn't focus on the year, it's simply a cellebration. Like christmas. 

Unfortunately, the kids did not react well to all the exitement and the flow of visitors, and where over exited and high on sugar, and at eachothers throats all day long, but apart from that it was a brilliant day. And since it's IHAD, I got to put on my prettiest dress and my highest heels and my heaviest necklace and therefor felt quite as wonderful as everyone was (forced to) telling me I was. Now the monsters boys are in bed, all the visitors have left, and I'm enjoying some quiet time on my lovely balcony. 

Truly, I think IHAD is one of my best inventions, and unless your name starts with an S or an M, you should copy it! (Sorry, but ISAD or IMAD is just not going to work...)

 

Photo taken by Jonas Forsberg