ANZAC Spirit

They will not grow old, as we that are left grow old

Age will not weary them, nor the years condemn

At the going down of the sun, and in the morning

We will remember them

April 25 once again, and another chance to remember all the fallen. It seemed to have added meaning this year with the usual premises still behind cordon bars and forced to move to Hagley Park. So many memorials have been attended in that very spot over the last six months - its added a little something extra to the dawn one this morning.

The Governor-General running late and making the veterans wait in the cold light of a rainy morning didn't really set a good example mind you. But that's the people at the top isn't it?

Besides, if nothing, it took my mind off f everything else for a short while. Thoughts of broken promises and declarations. Of telling people that you love them to have them admit the same of you - and yet nothing changes.

Well maybe not nothing - the knowledge is there and there is a visit planned. But that is hardly the same of being wrapped up in strong protective arms and knowing that you never have to worry and never have to fear ever again, is it?

Maybe I ask for too much. No one has ever looked after me before. I've managed fine for 24 years, why do I need someone now. And I'm sure that the soldiers that died stationed far from home had people that cared for them - it didn't do them any good did it? They still fell victim to battles that never really needed to happen.

But the human race is a brutal breed. War will not disappear anytime soon, so we will continue to gather at dawn once a year to thank those that are forced to fight and die.

Letters

I did it. I finally grew a set and admitted to my best friend that whenever I think of the future and marriage and children and love that he is the one right there beside me.

I - the emotional cripple and chicken shit extraordinaire - actually admitted my feelings and emotions to another human being. What is the world coming to?

Sure, it was written down and posted in a letter - but that still counts.

I only hope this doesn't backfire on me.

Sightseeing

Its days like today that one has to stop and wonder about the mental stability of an entire generation of Cantabrians. Ours entire lives and foundations have been uprooted, chewed up and spat back out - counseling for a good many probably is not a bad idea.

I watched an iconic building get torn down today. I stood mere metres away as diggers tore at its core and brought it crashing down. I felt the reverberations through my feet from brick after brick and wall after wall being erased from all but memory. It was a strangely moving sight, the Carlton Hotel slowly getting smaller and small as the night grew dark and colder. And then to drive through the city (or at least the parts of the city that you are actually able to drive through without being arrested)....eerie; incredibly surreal.

I don't think that it is even able to be processed by the average human mind, what total cost this event has had on out environment.

I feel that I am coping but I am removed. Yes, counseling for a good many would probably be beneficial. Not everyone can watch a building be brought down after all.

Mood Swings in the Aftermath of Disaster

Six odd weeks later and not only is it the landscape that has dramatically changed, but the people as well. I feel different - I know that I have said this before. And it only stands to reason that if I feel so intrinsically altered, then others around me are also new and "improved".

That is to be expected of course. No one could go through what has been happening around us and remain the same. But not all change is good. I, for example no longer have patience for things that I consider a waste of time. Panic, hysteria, needless worry, pessimism, negativity.... these have all been placed firmly in my "bad" basket and anyone indulging in them is now automatically disqualified from my good graces. I never used to be that quick to snap I swear.

My flat mate it would seem has a similar alteration of personality. Only hers comes in the form of what can only be described as bipolar mood swings. I understand that things are different now - I really do. And after having the flat to myself for the better part of six weeks I knew that there would need to be adjustments made. But I am not a mind reader - I never have been. If I didn't develop that particular skill growing up with my mother then I am unlikely to develop it now.

The silent treatment is also in my "bad" basket. It has always annoyed me but I used to be able to ignore it. Not anymore it would seem.

There is just something incredibly immature about not saying what is the problem. How can it be fixed if the offending parties are completely in the dark about anything other than your general irritability?

Ahh well, maybe time is the only thing that it needs. Time one way or another seems to solve everything. Either it will calm down or I will snap. Both options will provide an end - for good or for ill.

Until then I shall prepair for Easter. Making my own eggs this year - the moulds arrived yesterday. Its all very exciting. I am sure that there will be disasters and messes - but that is half the fun of trying something new is it not? Hot Cross Buns and home made eggs - who wouldn't want that as a gift come Easter weekend. And now that the road trip that had been planned has been canceled, there is more time for playing Easter bunny.

Might even make the dog an Easter treat. Poor little thing is injured and all the way over the other side of town with my Mum... this must be how our parents feel when we grow up.