Thursday, 15 May 2008

Milk of human kindness after our house attack - thank you

The feral bastards who invaded my home last week have terrified me and traumatised my husband, kids and friends, but they have not destroyed my faith in humanity. Forgive me if that sentence sounds like a platitudinous gobbet from a self-help book, but I'm just blown away, and so comforted, by the kindness and wonderful generosity of my immediate family, my mom, my sisters, my friends, my neighbours and my community.

I've been inundated with hugs, phone calls, emails, SMS messages and good vibes. I thank you all, and apologise if I haven't returned your calls. I feel as if I've had a group hug (sorry to sound mushy, but there is a cheese-factor involved here) from 3000 people.

Total strangers have phoned and emailed me offering their help in various ways, including one or two dedicated individuals who are moving mountains and cutting red tape behind the scenes in order to nail these predators. (Wow! Three cliches and mixed metaphors in one sentence!.)

I've received messages of support from school principals, from a dedicated police captain (and several of his officers), at the Rosebank police station, from the station's victim-support team, from generous teachers and colleagues and therapists, and from the wonderful mothers of my daughter's classmates. I've had arm-squeezes and big sympathetic ears from supermarket cashiers, garage assistants and all the other people who've taken time to listen to my outpourings.

Friends on Facebook sent messages and greetings. My darling friend C baked cookies, and then the next day delivered two delectable roast chickens, perfect spuds and a dish of cauliflower cheese (recipes coming soon). Not only were they piping hot, but she brought them to our house on her motor bike. My other darling friend, R, a photographer with an exquisite eye for design and detail, accepted the portfolio of Getting Us a New Gate, raced around town photographing suitable gate-designs and doing all the donkey-work I just didn't feel up to.

And as for my husband and kids, and the guests who were involved in this sorry episode - well, words fail me. They have shown such resilience and optimism and kindness (and I admit that I have been a huge girls' blouse in the last few days, with my obsessive arming-and-cross-checking of doors, my frantic padlock-buying and my nasty snappishness), that I feel like the luckiest person on earth to have them in my life.

And here endeth the lesson: the nastiness of this episode has been thoroughly diluted by the milk of human kindness.

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meggie said...

Glad the support has rallied for you. Keep feeling better.

tonypark said...

That's lovely, Juno, except, of course, for the cauliflower cheese. Still, it's the thought that counts.

Anonymous said...

I say! Studies have shown that cauliflower cheese is THE most comforting comfort food, particularly if it is laced with enough nutmeg to induce mild euphoria, as the Victorians put it. (Mild euphemism, more like: you can get very merry on this stuff). And anyway, what is it with men and members of the cole crop family of vegetables?

Juno said...

Yes, Tony, lay off the caulifower cheese remarks. This 'anonymous' who has commented is doing her utmost to pretend that she didn't make the dish... but it's her all right. I recognise her style at a glance.

So hand over the recipe, dude. It was bloody good. (Oh, and I have your souffle dish).