{"id":1843,"date":"2017-12-11T07:15:30","date_gmt":"2017-12-11T12:15:30","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/robinbotie.com\/blog\/?p=1843"},"modified":"2017-12-11T13:19:09","modified_gmt":"2017-12-11T18:19:09","slug":"australia-trip-beyond-appearances","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/robinbotie.com\/blog\/australia-trip-beyond-appearances\/","title":{"rendered":"Australia Trip: Beyond Appearances"},"content":{"rendered":"

\"Robin<\/a>\u201cI\u2019m kinda nervous about this,\u201d I confessed to the leader of the tour group<\/a>, as I waited for the stranger I was to drive off with. Before going to Australia I\u2019d put out pleas on Facebook to meet up with Australian bereaved mothers on my free days, \u201cto make my trip more meaningful.\u201d This was my first. Dianne. Complete stranger, all I had was a name and phone number. She had messaged back, \u201cNo worries, hun,\u201d to everything I\u2019d written, which made me feel icky, reminded me of extinct relationships with men. But when Dianne pulled up in her shiny black RAV, I plopped into the passenger seat, and immediately knew I\u2019d found a sister.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cWhere d\u2019you want to go?\u201d she asked. Envisioning a peaceful quiet place to talk, I replied, \u201cCan we walk along the Yarra River?\u201d She took me to the Crown Casino.<\/span><\/p>\n

She paid $50 to park in Crown\u2019s endless garage below the snazzy scene of casino, hotel, shops, and restaurants. Huge dripping chandeliers, Prada, expensive jewelry displays…. As we trotted by I snapped photos of the colorful lights and our distorted images reflected in the mirrored facades of slot machines. I wondered if photographing was permitted in the casino. Trekking up and down escalators and elevators, we finally found ourselves outside, on a boardwalk lined with oyster bars and ritzy cafes. There was the Yarra.<\/span><\/p>\n

We strolled, sharing the stories of our kids who died, and then sat on the edge of the Crown dock with our feet dangling off the edge. It didn\u2019t look like the quiet clean river I\u2019d thrown a good portion of my daughter\u2019s ashes in, five years before. An old, bloated tennis ball floated by. It didn\u2019t feel at all like I was littering when I tossed in my daughter\u2019s dolphin necklace and tiny gold ring.<\/span><\/p>\n

At a nearby outdoor caf\u00e9, I bought lunch for almost double what Dianne paid for parking. As we sat, a butterfly hovered between us. Long enough that I suspected one of us would get a visit from The Beyond. It was a butterfly like no other I\u2019d ever seen. Giant. Rugged, like a moth. Its colors, blues, browns and gold, matched Dianne\u2019s outfit perfectly. It flitted around her, and finally landed near her heart. The butterfly rested there, like a precious opalescent brooch. And then it perched on her hand. I snapped photos.<\/span><\/p>\n

As we retraced our path through the casino and the dazzling courts of the palatial Crown<\/a> to the RAV in the depths of the garage, I clicked away until we drove off to my hotel.<\/span><\/p>\n

And when I got back home after my trip to Australia, I found that all the photos I had taken that day with Dianne disappeared. The picture you see here of me hopping around barricade panels concealing a construction site was taken by the next mother I met up with, two days later, in Adelaide. Miserable, in disbelief, I took my camera cards to various technicians but they found no trace that I ever took photos that day. I still see them in my head. The casino lights. The butterfly. The Crown chandelier shining, like starburst. All ghosts now. But so clear in my mind, I sit at my computer, stunned, still awaiting their appearance.<\/span><\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

“I’m kinda nervous about this,” I confessed to the leader of the tour group, as I waited for the stranger I was to drive off with. Before going to Australia I’d put out pleas on Facebook to meet up with Australian bereaved mothers on my free days, “to make my trip more meaningful.” This was […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"_monsterinsights_skip_tracking":false,"_monsterinsights_sitenote_active":false,"_monsterinsights_sitenote_note":"","_monsterinsights_sitenote_category":0,"footnotes":""},"categories":[1062],"tags":[213,1415,1419,1417,1414,1412,1413,1416],"class_list":["post-1843","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-1062","tag-bereaved-mothers","tag-crown-casino","tag-finding-people-like-me","tag-losing-photos","tag-seeing-butterflies","tag-signs-from-beyond","tag-signs-from-the-afterlife","tag-yarra-river"],"aioseo_notices":[],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/robinbotie.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/1843","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/robinbotie.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/robinbotie.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/robinbotie.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/robinbotie.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=1843"}],"version-history":[{"count":0,"href":"https:\/\/robinbotie.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/1843\/revisions"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/robinbotie.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=1843"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/robinbotie.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=1843"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/robinbotie.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=1843"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}