When I wrote Chapters 50, 51 and 57, I didn’t realise that I might suffer again in re-living the past by writing about it. In fact, I was quite light-hearted and pragmatic in writing about all of the ways Anthony and I somehow beat the odds against us, with our age difference being the least of our newlywed problems.
In writing about these experiences, however, I unexpectedly remembered how betrayed I felt when Anthony didn’t/wouldn’t/couldn’t defend and protect our marriage against what seemed a never-ending onslaught of criticism against me, us, and baby Ming.
Adult Ming and I had an enlightening conversation about Anthony the other day in which he said “Dad would have been so conflicted!” Lost in my unexpected memories, I just said, “I’m so glad you understand because I didn’t at the time, Ming.”
Ming: You can cry if you want to, Mum. I wanted Dad to come to all of my football games.
Me: He was too sick already.
Ming: He could have tried harder.
It seems a dreadful betrayal to now admit that I, too, thought that Anthony could have tried harder to just dash out of all of his illnesses and be the husband and dad Ming and I wanted and missed. But on one memorable sports day at Ming’s primary school it took Anthony around 40 minutes to get from one side of the oval to the other, with my help, and he was terribly embarrassed.
I so wish Ming had seen the way Anthony used to run through the paddocks, chasing cattle, but also just running for the fun of running! It is now my responsibility to tell Ming all of the Anthony stories before Anthony became so ill with Parkinson’s, including the warts-and-all unexpected memories.
jmgoyder 
❤
You are very pragmatic.
Dear Julie,
The “unexpected memory” is often surprising. We each remember the past through our own filter. My brother remembered a lot of things from when we were young for which I have no recall. I was there when it happened, but just didn’t experience it in the way he did. Keep writing, there are probably many things he didn’t understand when young, but you will have broadened his view and helped him to see his father as others did. ❤
Love you,
Lynda
All memories count the good, the great, the not so good, they all matter
Oh, you’ve touched a very sensitive chord again! The retrospective vision is much more acute than how we saw things at the time.
I think your writing is maturing too, as you dig deeper into your story.