It’s been a long time coming…

Nearly 10 years ago I started my chaplaincy journey with a student placement at Brian King Gardens Residential Aged Care Home in Castle Hill. I was given the residents in one wing to visit each week. I didn’t know they were living with dementia and so came into this new setting with no preconceptions. I had an absolute ball getting to know these amazing people. In fact, I enjoyed it so much, I stayed on as a volunteer after my placement was finished. I learned so much about what was really important – relationships and living in the present moment.

I also had the privilege of hearing Christine Bryden speak at the Dementia and Faith conference. Her explanation that her spirit remains intact throughout her dementia was a pivotal moment for me. It sparked my passion to write my first novel A Beautiful Death. It showcases Cassie Brennan, a world renowned pianist, who develops younger onset dementia but still wants to unravel the secrets of her past. Can Cassie find reconciliation and even love in the midst of memory loss? Will her spiritual Garden provide the answers she desperately needs?

You’ll be able to find out because the book is going to be published! I’m so excited that Redemption Press will be bringing my book baby to the world in 2026. There’s a lot of work to do in the meantime – editing, layout, cover design and promotion – but it’s happening. Thank you so much to all the people who’ve been on the journey with me from the beginning and to all the others who’ve joined along the way. I promise the next book will be much quicker.

Bittersweet

My good friend and colleague Vicki Eldridge shared her letter to 2024: 

‘Dear 2024, I’ve wrapped you up with notable milestones and thrilling adventures, alongside disappointment and loss. Like salted caramel ice cream, and like bittersweet chocolate, I’ve tasted an unexpected and extreme blend of contradictions – but I’m still thankful for the memories.’ 

Her letter really sparked something in me. I thought of the many times I’ve heard people say – especially about the pandemic years – ‘thank goodness that year is over, let’s hope the next one will be better.’ Like somehow with the passing of one year into another we can put all the hard stuff behind us. But life’s not like that, is it? It’s not either all good or all bad. As Vicki says it can be an ‘extreme blend of contradictions’ all at the same time. 

For me personally, 2024 has held some amazing wins – I finally finished my novel, and I graduated with degree in Ageing and Pastoral Studies. I spent 3 weeks in Canada with our son, Canadian daughter in law and grandchildren, visiting the Canadian relatives and enjoying lots of snow. For a girl brought up in Sydney, Australia that was a bucket list event. The year also carried significant sadness and loss as I journeyed with several close family members and friends in tragic situations. There’s a weightiness to grief and loss which counterbalances the lightness of joy and laughter. Bestselling author Susan Cain in her book Bittersweet: How sorrow and longing make us whole encourages us to accept that life contains both joy and pain, light and shadow. She says we are our truest selves when we live honestly in both these spaces. 

So, here’s my letter to 2024. 

Dear 2024, I’m grateful for significant moments of growth, for milestones reached and for the privilege of community. For me that community has included family, friends, church, writing and work. I’ve had some special people – a coach, a spiritual director, a writing mentor and a writing buddy – who’ve spurred me on to uncomfortable places. Those places turned out to be opportunities for growth, as did the grief, loss and trauma journeys I’ve been privileged to accompany. As I’ve leaned into God, he has gently encouraged me along the way. It has been bittersweet, but so worth it. Thank you 2024. 

I encourage you to write your own letter to 2024 before you are fully immersed in 2025. It’s important to make the opportunity for some reflection and self-care.  

Blessings, 

Carolyn