The Contingency Plan

My mood has been somber and reflective of late and I feel for Luc who in addition to working seven days a week has to endure my tears and extreme emotions. He's a good man to me.

Hugo's currently asleep on our bed (in training for our trip) and I find it almost spiritual to watch him. He lies on his side, moving softly with his breath and smells of milk, butter biscuits and soap. A hand lies gently in front of his face and it takes a tremendous amount of restaint to leave him undisturbed.

I wonder what he dreams of when he smiles and laughs in his slumber. Watching him makes me realise how simple life is when we start off and I can't help but reflect over the complications I've created.

Luc and I had an argument in the car last night. We were surrounded by the clatter of the rain and the clutter of our thoughts and through it I distinctly recall him yelling, "When will your dramas end?"

I naturally took offense to this at the time but in retrospect can see his point. For the last few years my life has been an ugly tapestry of excruciating arguments, disheartening career experiences and health surprises that have left me quite emotionally frantic. He experiences none of this.

Luc later apologised as I didn't choose to have a crazy family, unpredictable baby-related hormones or two friends die in as many years, but regardless I know I have to do something as I'm starting to feel like a helpless victim drowning in waves of misfortune.

I haven't seen Adrian in nearly three years and although we were close, I've been surprised at how depressed and upset I've been at the news of his death. I've sobbed every day and am finding sleep difficult. So Natasha came over last night with two boxes of old photos, letters and diaries and I've spent hours reading over events I had completely forgotten.

I discovered diaries where every weekend is filled with time hanging out together. There was the night we all auditioned as dancers for a Coke commerical, the New Years Eve party spent at a friend's house where we shared the same toothbrush, the camp where us girls put sand in their sleeping bags and the period where we attended the same high school and I set his brother up with a friend.

And although I'm still filled with grief and sadness, thinking of Adrian and remembering our teenage years have reminded me to treasure life and all things good and simple. I'm sure I'll figure out more of this life and death stuff as time passes.