This thing called...Separation.

Tuesday 1 May 2012

I have news for you!

There are NOT 6 degrees of Separation.

There’s really only Separation…and I thought I’d tossed it.  Really and truly tossed it.

But I haven’t!

I’m no better at the art of Separation than when I was two and I lost Bunky.

Bunky was a small, brown, felt monkey who endlessly ate a banana and went to bed at my bedtime...on my pillow.

Forget about putting me to bed without him. My 5 year old sister tried it once and tearfully had to explain how she’d  ‘helped him a little bit’ to climb into her school bag.  Even I was amazed at how quickly our exasperated mother could smell guilt...and resolved to give big sister tips on not letting the monkey out of the bag so easily in future!

Then there was the Separation of the egg yolk from the white.

My Nannna was a whiz at it…one hand!

She didn’t need one of those plastic things with a groove for the yolk and a space for the white to run through. Not Nanna. ‘Crack’ on the bowl, twist of the fingers and before your eyes turned into all-day-suckers, the white was in one bowl and the yolk another.

I lusted after that skill and practised on all her eggs on cooking day.  She never seemed to tire of rescuing bits of eggshell from unlikely places and cheered as though Bradman had scored a century when I finally got the hang of it.

After that I thought Separation a cinch. On neighbours’ farms I learnt to Separate the milk from the cream and the sheep from the goats.

At Sunday School I found being ambidextrous a boon when Separating kids in a fight.

I even concentrated on the Separation of Cells in Science - although it must be said - largely because our teacher Mr B. was...well...handsome.

And much, much later I discovered that when all the clothes that weren’t yours, disappeared from your double wardrobe…that meant Separation too.

There has been Separation from generations of reptiles, birds, rodents, cats and dogs…each doing its bit to enhance my love of nature.

Friends have Separated themselves by accident, illness and natural causes…leaving me to grieve and ponder ‘Why them and not me?’

And then there’s Family.

I’m the youngest and now Separated from my Father, Sister, Mother and Brother by the passing of their Time.

Yes…I thought I’d really tossed it…this Separation thing…until tonight.

For you, my daughter have turned and waved so bravely at those wretched Customs Doors.

I’m glad you didn’t see them braking on my heart.     
My first-born - tiny, trusting soul.  A Mother Lion...I held you in my arms with such protective threatened to extinguish that same life that Love had given you.

A tiny girl, so sweet and sure…a little mother to her siblings three…a kindred spirit…pure delight.

You saw I smiled the widest smile of all…until that spatial silence took you from my view and left me helpless to restrain the pain of salty tears.

But I am blessed…it is not death or parting ways of war. You have the gift of Life and I shall once more see your face…when that Time comes.

Go...use your talents well, my darling child. Comfort and give joy to those who cross your path.

And remember evermore...

I love you.


  1. Thank you, Nancy. So beautiful ... and such clever working of analogies.

  2. I'm so glad you enjoyed this piece Brigid...and I loved sharing it with you. Thank you for your very kind words.

  3. Well.. That made me frigging cry.
    Thanks...... I suppose.....
    I can't write about separation..... yet....

  4. You will my dear, dear will! Thank you for your usual honesty.