Him + Her = Them


This is me when I was twenty. Dave was twenty-six. He has a Caesar haircut, made fashionable at the time by Wheels from E Street. I thought he was the cat’s pyjamas.

I was trying hard to look beautiful, when I didn’t already know that I was beautiful just by being myself.

We met at a bar, a week before I had to return to university on the other side of Australia. It was instant for me. He was bemused but intrigued. Three days into meeting him, I told him we would be married, and have two children. He didn’t laugh. He also didn’t run.

And then I left for a year.

Yearning letters were written. The pain of being apart is so palpable in the missives, I still cannot bring myself to read more than a line or two every few years.

He wooed me back by sticking cut out Houses to Rent ads from The Age, into his letters. $180 Two bedroom house in Richmond. Features outside dunny.

And then we were three.

Tansy came to life slowly, calling her own arrival with a cry like a lamb, and pact with her maker that she would have a broken wing. Preternaturally gifted in words, she told me, when she was three years old, of intricate past lives and how she came to choose her parents before she was born. She could also read minds and called us by our first names at two.

She chose us to be in her story.

Then along came Spike. The wordsmith angel with the perfect phrase for everything, with hands that can teach himself to play Blackbird by the Beatles on the guitar in a single night, and bowl a spin ball like no one else his age.

This is us. We are a family.

When everything else seems to spin out of control around me. This is my anchor and my haven.

Happy Tuesday.



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