A place behind the sun…

When all the world is a hopeless jumble

And the rain drops tumble all around

Heaven opens a magic lane…

For the longest time, the song Somewhere Over the Rainbow has never been far from my lips.

Maybe right from when I first watched The Wizard of Oz. Eyes ablaze at the beauty of Judy Garland and the wonder of Oz. Age 6. Gran’s house.

For some reason, it’s always spoken to me.

Not because I felt I belonged somewhere else.

At that age, in the midst of the ugly custody battles all too common in the 1980s, I probably just wanted to belong somewhere.

Oz seems as good a place as any.

Now, as an adult, as a parent?

I have a different appreciation for the song and it’s lyrics.

The way the melody soars with hope. The highs and the lows of the notes, up and down and around.

That song, with all it’s whimsy borne of what often sounds to me like a dark place – that song is like life.

When all the clouds darken up the skyway

There’s a rainbow highway to be found

Leading from your window pane…

Because the truth is, the light – the place behind the sun, just a step beyond the rain – it really is always so close.

It’s just up to us to take the step.

We don’t need to see the rainbows and bluebirds to know they are there. We just have to believe they are possible.

I’ve been struggling this week I’ve been back from #DPCON12. Struggling to fit back in to life.

Oscar’s forays into hospital Monday and Tuesday, and again yesterday (Friday) have obviously not helped.

I just want to hide. Not be here. Not accept the extraordinary mundane punctuated by the gut-twisting agony of hospitals.

Even though this most recent procedure was not life-threatening.

Even though now it’s done, I am glad.

I think that at some point, my mind has un-numbed itself to it’s reality.

Fully realised how effecting the past two years has been.

How much it could effect the next two.

And then I get to spend over an hour gazing into his sweet, sleeping face. As he recovers from a general anaesthetic, administered simply to remove a dressing. So that he is not distressed any more than he needs to be.

And troubles melt like lemon drops…

Because here he is. In my arms. Heart pumping. Lungs breathing.

Safe.

The taste of the lemon drop still lingers, but it begins to dissipate.

And my other two darlings are wheeled into his room, Roo calling: “Mummy!”. Fraser calling: “O-har! Fraya!” in greeting to his twin.

I look into my exhausted husband’s eyes as he looks at our rarely peaceful son in my arms.

And my heart soars away above the chimney tops

Parents often say: “I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

There are plenty of other ways I would have this life.

But this is the way I have it.

That’s where you’ll find me…

Do you have a song that is never far from your lips? That is a part of your life?