Haircut fiasco
Yesterday, I got a haircut in Ambon at Bodie’s Barbers. The guy cutting my hair understood what I wanted, but somehow ended up leaving a small bald patch on the back of my head. At least he owned up to it, and since I can’t see it, I’m not too bothered.
Heading back to Jakarta
I had an early start and now I’m sitting in Pattirua Airport in Ambon, waiting to board my flight to Jakarta. Despite being a small airport, it sees quite a bit of foot traffic. I was impressed with the hotel in Ambon—the Swiss Belhotel—where the rooms were luxurious, and there was a nice rooftop bar. However, the wine at the bar was disappointing, and why is it that every time I order pasta, it seems to have sugar in it?
Money doubts
Lately, I’ve been worrying about money. I’m wondering if I have enough to live the way I want, especially once I factor in the taxes I’ll need to pay. I’m also concerned that the new Labour government in the UK might introduce tax changes for people like me who aren’t currently working.
Looking for an Urn
I’ve been looking for an urn for Grace’s ashes and have started shortlisting options. I want something with a candle holder, as I think Grace loved her candles. I want it to sit in front of me, either on the coffee table or beside me, rather than being put on a shelf out of sight.
I bought a pendant to carry some of her ashes in Bali, but I’ve found pendants made from sea shells that I prefer.
Forgiveness, grudges and self protection
A partner of my grandfather once said that our family held grudges, and I reflected a lot on that. I can’t deny that I’ve held grudges in certain instances. I suspect it’s something I learned from my parents, particularly my mother, and my grandfather. However, I think she had a simplistic view.
For me, not wanting contact with someone isn’t necessarily about holding a grudge; it’s often about self-protection—what we’d call self-care these days. If I felt mistreated by someone, I learned to distance myself. Also grudges for most people tend to go away over time.
With Grace, she showed me unconditional love, something I had only really experienced from my grandmother. She forgave me when I was depressed and not easy to be around. With others, it often felt like love came with conditions.
I forgive my parents. I recognize the challenges they faced, and having me at a young age may have been overwhelming. Sometimes, parents take their frustrations out on children, as we see in more extreme cases.
Losing Grace to FTD forced me to confront many of these feelings and led me through significant personal growth.
With Sarah, the easiest thing for me has been to distance myself from her. It’s not about forgiveness or holding a grudge; I simply reached my limit with her. When she said, “we lost both parents,” while I was in crisis, I didn’t know how else to protect myself from more pain.
Perhaps this is strong language, but trauma is something that takes time to work through.
Losing Grace still feels surreal
I still find it hard to accept that Grace is no longer with me. It’s difficult to put into words how much I miss her presence—the smiles she’d give me, the smirks when I did something silly, the disapproving looks when I did something she didn’t approve of.
