About 15 years ago I went to a quiz night. For some reason I have a way of storing useless information that sometimes comes in handy at quiz nights. I think it used to be called General Knowledge or something, but I don’t think knowledge has a lot to do with it!

Anyway! There was this bonus round with each person to themseves. There was a mystery prize. Now I suppose I can be a little competitive. Well, a lot competitive if I put my mind to it and I love mysteries. Anyway! I was the first person with their hand up knowing that Sir Arthur Sullivan was the composer in the G&S duo and I won.

And I was presented with an envelope. I hoped it was tickets to the South of France or a weekend at a flash hotel. Heck I would have liked a voucher of some description and I suppose in the end this was a voucher of some description- it was a session with a solicitor to draw up a will.

This was pre-kids and it was a confusing session. I mean if I died, and my then husband died and any of my kids died and my mother died and my brother died and my aunt was dead I was made to decide who was getting the money. I think, from memory, it was Amnesty International and Trinity College Choir. But to be honest, after this long and tedious process I really didn’t care.

But things change in 15 years. Kids come along and marriages end. And I knew I needed to draft a new will.

One of the perks of my union membership is that the legal firm engaged by the union draws up free wills for members. So when they came to town a month or so back I made an appointment.

Now I am not planning on carking it soon. But I figured I had best be prepared. It is strange that if you marry your will is cancelled, but not if you divorce!

Before I went in I thought a bit about it. If I were to die I would need to kids to be taken care of. And I also figured that it doesn’t have to be another 15 years until I draw up a new will.

I had it all figured out. Money divided between the kids and guardians appointed. But then he stumped me- ‘what do you want down with your body?’ I had never really thought about it. I know I don’t want a ‘funeral’ funeral, but rather a party where people can gather around and tell stories and jokes and play music and remember. But my body? I know cremation causes plenty of greenhouse gasses, but where would I be burried? I don’t think they’d let me be burried in the rainforrest and the idea of a cemetary doesn’t excite me.

So I decided to make no decisions. I am tempted to leave my body to science and let the doctors of the future disect my muscles and tissues. I mean I will be gone. Nothing, just memories of me will remain. Someone told me that people will want somewhere to go to visit me, but I won’t be there so it seems a little pointless.

I signed a simple will the other day. With the solicitor as executor, the kids getting the money and guardians appointed. It is in place in case I do die and I will think about what else is important to me and do another one in the next few years. Maybe!

Past. Present. Future. Over the last few months I have noticed a shift in my thinking. Ever so slowly I have tried to stop focussing on the past and future and focussing on the present.

Part of this has involved my new job. With so much to learn and little experience I have found that I have had to live for the present and am not at all scared to say to someone ‘I don’t know, but I will investigate and get back to you.’ The lack of ‘past’ has not caused anxiety either which is what I was expecting. People haven’t minded when I have taken a little time to get back to them. And getting back has always been within 2-3 days.

And I am not worrying about the future in it too. I have told it is a secure job and they expect me to be there in 20 years! We’ll see! In my last job there was concern about the future. Economic uncertainty meant that there was fear for jobs. Financial worries also crept in with comission targets not met and therefore not bringing home as much as needed.

But I also have to admit it is the past that shapes in more ways than one. 19 years ago today Dad died. I was 17. Mum and Dad had been married 19 years. Dad was into gadgets and fiddling with things in the garage and altering and adapting. He never knew of mobile phones. He never knew of the Internet. I suspect there are a few, er, adult sites he would have loved! Dad would have loved digital photography.

My memories of Dad are of an antsy teenage girl. I was scared of my father but at the same time I think I would have liked to have gotten to know him  as an adult. As an adult who has found her voice. He would be horrified at my political beliefs and athiesm, but at the same time I believe he would have argued points with me. And gotten angry and lost his temper and stormed off… But perhaps not! Perhaps that was what he needed to do to cope with an antsy teenager.

I dreamt of Dad on the weekend. He and Mum were going on an overseas holiday. Now since Dad died Mum has been on numerous trips- With the exception of South America she has visited every continent, even Antarctica! In this dream they were going on their first overseas trip together in years. Dad was frail (he would have been 71 this year) but happy. Mum was excited. It was a strange dream. But then again most of my dreams are!

One year ago I went on a date. I met ‘African Explorer’ for coffee. We had met through RSVP and I did not hold out a lot of hope after prior experiences, but part of me wanted to believe that this would be different. And it was! He had skived off work for an hour (and still managed to take 3 phone calls!) I was still off work after having my tonsils out. But there was something there. I met his friends on the Friday night (just a little daunting!) and it just felt right. From the beginning we said we were taking things slowly, but I think in reality we have taken things as they needed to be taken.

We have had trips to Canberra and Townsville. Some time with the kids, quite a bit without. We are off to Hong Kong at the end of next month. Last night we talked about where we might like to go on holiday next year. But that is about as future as we have taken it. He (now referred to as the gorgeous MIML™!) has exams to pass so he can stay in the country and 18 month to do it. Again time. I have a thesis to finish. I have kids to care for and a new job to learn.

Living in the present doesn’t negate the need for future planning either. I met someone the other weekend who has her life planned for the next 5 years, right down to having another baby aged 39. She was so set on what was going to happen it was rather anal. Broad plans, yes, but as for specifics, meh!

Time will occur whether we are here or not. Time doesn’t fly or drag. It happens and it is what we do with it that is the important part.

Time.

Past. Present. Future.

Yesterday. Today. Tomorrow.

But most importantly now.

I started a blog post today and have just deleted it all.

Basically, today is 18 years since my Dad died. He went SCUBA diving on Easter (Holy) Saturday and drowned. I still don’t understand how it happened, but it did. I have now been alive longer without Dad than with him. We had an interesting relationship, but I know he loved me and deep down thought he was was doing the best job he could as a father. He probably was too.

I look at Mum who has been alone for most of these 18 years, well at least the last 15. I think I used to worry about loneliness and being alone, but really I just have to look at Mum and her full life and realise that as long as I have friends around me I’ll be fine.

RIP Patrick John Christian Henderson. 9th Jan 1939 – 14th April 1990. I do miss you Dad.