Velvet Buttons

It will be our second wedding anniversary in a week & a half. There are days where I feel as if the time has flown but honestly, right now, it feels like just the right amount of time.

Despite the last two years throwing some of the most difficult challenges at us, at me, that I have ever had to face I am amazed & proud to say that I can still get up each morning & look myself in the mirror. Okay, sometimes it is through the slit of one eye, but it is still me that looks back & at the end of (most) days I smile. The principal reason for this is the man who chose me to be his wife. After almost a decade of knowing him I can honestly say that I would not be here, if not for him.

With our cotton anniversary looming I have been, naturally, thinking about our wedding day – running all the memories through my mind, it is still fresh & beautiful in there – so many tender & spectacular moments that are too divine to describe. As always, I recall my favourite moments & there it is. Shining out in the light on its pedestal. That one shining moment, that is still my favourite from that entire day.

Corsmor & I left our wedding reception much later than we had planned – we were having so much fun & we had to force ourselves to leave. Under the arch of love we bid farewell to our guests & made our way to our bridal suite. We stood in the middle of our room & looked at each other. In the background the murmur from the reception continued on (& on for the next hour or so…)

Corsmor stood behind me & unbuttoned the back of my gown – there were over 30 buttons which were covered in velvet & encased a zip. His fingers worked them all & he slid the zip down with ease. My dress fell to the floor. I turned & kissed him, passionately.
   “Mr Rolfe, may I present your wife?” I whispered
He grinned & his blue eyes glistened. Lump in his throat, he laughed & kissed me again.

My feet were aching & I felt weak. Corsmor ran me a bath & I slipped into the bubbles with no complaint. It was then I noticed that my hands were a light shade of bordeaux – the dye from my velvet wedding gown had worn off onto my skin. I grinned.

I lied there with the handmade diamond pins still in my hair, my glossed red lips, my wedding ring & my engagement ring sparkling. I am sure that I was grinning, my cheeks were aching from smiling all day. I closed my eyes. I drifted.

When I got out of the bath & put on my warm linen robe & found Corsmor outside on our balcony – his suit still on, his tie removed & his top few buttons open. He was fine-looking. Handsome, strong & neat in his suit. He had, had his waistcoat made from the same velvet as my dress – his idea & it was soft to touch & the colour set off his dark, olive skin.
…”You look pretty” I told him. He laughed again & shook his head.

The moon shone behind us, a light fog hung over Mount Lofty & the music was still beating at the reception. We could see the room glowing from our balcony but we could not see in. It sounded like there was a great party, still, going on.

We sat out on the balcony for hours – we smoked, drank champagne & we talked. We traded war stories about the day, about our families & friends, about how happy we were & how much we loved each other.

This precious time on the balcony in the small hours of the morning are what I remember most from the day because it was just us. It was the first time we had been truly alone all day – our first time alone as man & wife & what did we do? We talked. Like we always had – talk had always come first. From the first moment we met online;
    “Are you going to say something? I am going to delete you if you do not talk to me” he wrote
It was a challenge & I accepted.

That is nearly a decade ago now.

Only hours previous we had our photo taken in front of that same balcony & in our window sill. I knew that years later we would want to remember our room & the moments alone. Pictures & notebooks full of stories; that is how I remember. Without them, I am lost.

When the air began to chill & the wild birds started to rustle; the music from the reception had stopped long ago (I had not noticed) we decided to go back to our room.

I texted my brother, Leo.

   “Happiest day of my life…”

& it was.

Cycle

I cannot explain my close attachment to the Blue Tongued Lizard that has lived in our garden for 3 years but he is important to me nonetheless. I found him today bent over in the garden, looking not-quite-right. It is only 10 degrees here today & far too cold for a lizard to be trying to sunbake. I noticed he has been coming out to bake for a few weeks now, in winter, & thought it odd. I picked him up & gave him a bit of a rub to warm him up, his belly stirred but his eyes did not open. It did not feel right to leave him lying out there to get picked off by a cat or a bird, so I picked him up & took him inside. I made him a makeshift home in my nephew’s toy box with some rocks & dirt from outside & put on a strong lamp to help warm him up a bit.
 
He did stir some more once he warmed up a little. I added a lid of water & some cherry tomatoes which were always a treat for the lizards that Leo raised when we were growing up. He has not touched either one. I spoke to Leo who said to drip some water in his mouth, if he was thirsty he would react – which he did.
 
He keeps doing these deep sighs from inside, curling up a little & then he flattens himself a bit to get more warmth. The sighs hit me in the chest every time, like a series of last breaths. I hold my own breath each time, I am quiet & hopeful that he will keep going.
 
I wish there was more I could do.
 
He has not moved for an hour now & I am too afraid to put my hands in, in case he has died. I am going to wait for Leo to get here & take a look at him. I do not think the news will be good.
 
Corsmor & I live in a little wilderness haven here & enjoy watching all the wild creatures come & go as they please. They are remarkable & motivating. Life is inexplicably going on around us. I have watched Sparrows swarm over the bread crumbs Corsmor throws to them, Black Birds couple up, build nests & eggs hatch into the quickest growing babies I have ever seen. I have awoken to the sounds of Kookaburra’s singing in our Jacaranda tree & fallen asleep to the sound of frogs in our back yard pond. What I failed to realise is that death is going on all around us at the same time. It is taking those beautiful things away from us. A cycle I had never really thought about.  & here I am sitting next to it, with a glimmer of hope & hopelessness all at once. There is nothing I can do but wait.

08062012

Happy 30th Birthday to my little brother, Leo!

Raining Valentine Dreams

I had a wonderful weekend. Corsmor took me to a restaurant in Adelaide called ‘Sparrows Kitchen & Bar’ where we had a magnificent meal; the duck doughnut was a definite highlight. We watched the summer rain fall over Adelaide & discussed moving to Sydney – I am sure it was a dream.
 
Saturday we milled around at home & spent the evening in bed… we’ve still got it despite being old & married… It was nice being so close to him.
 
Sunday we went off to the Gepps X Markets – we picked up  some veggies for a Jamie Oliver curry we are going to attempt – I am sure it will be a failure but it will be fun trying to get there. We saw the Love Shack crew down there with 2 giant watermelons. Made me laugh, Leo has not changed.
 
Australia lost the cricket which ruined the weekend for Corsmor a bit. It was a pretty boring game but I sat through it despite wanting to strangle myself – & the Aussie Cricket Team.
 
Corsmor is at training this week for some kind of truck licence – he’s had a lot of training through work which is great but so many of the things he talks about weigh on my mind, his new career is a bit scary to a wife… I never really know if he’s happy there – I’m not even sure if that matters to him the way it matters to me. I guess we all complain about all sorts of things but at the end of the day we end up going back there don’t we. Or are we just masochists?

Winter Glimmer

FIRST DAY OF WINTER
I have been afraid of the dark for as long as I can remember. My parents always let me leave a light on during the night, which they would sneak in & turn off. This would only make the situation harder when I would wake up in the darkness. There would be screaming in my mind during those few terrifying seconds reaching out to turn it on in order to chase the night away. Most of these nights I would escape my bedroom, sneak into Leo’s room & sleep on the top bunk. His quiet sleeping noises were always a comfort.
 
Now it is dark outside so early & for so long that the nightmares are here again.
 
I feel fear & it has been so long. I am afraid of the way they move, appearing in the space between breaths, stilted walk & always a backwards-kind-of-forwards. Never uttering a word that I can decipher, only distorted static.
 
Through the day, in the light they appear at the most unusual times, always quietly before I have realised they are there. I spot the ‘flash’ out of the corner of my eye & see them there in their death. Why always the dead? Why not the living? Are they there? Mum & Dad used to say it was my overactive imagination –
 —Always “overactive”
 —Never “just perceptive”
Where is the distinction?
 
The nightmares are never a comfort even though I pine for them if they are gone too long. Never wanting the nightmares so much as needing them. They are what made childhood my own world. Now they only come when it is truly dark. Every night, a cold haze swallows them, stilted by my bedside, if it were not for the lamp I am sure they would envelop me & I would gladly join.