Grief | jmgoyder

Ten degrees of joy

by jmgoyder

Ming and I saw his surgeon on Friday and the X-ray shows that Ming’s spine is now almost back to the way it was after his first surgery. I won’t bother putting the stats here – just to say that he is now ten degrees straighter than he was after he fractured two titanium rods. But the best thing is the residual pain/ache (since fractures) has gone.

The surgeon said that Ming, despite feeling better now, needs to take another six months for the inside healing to happen. He said that the bone stuff they used was very expensive and had enzymes that needed to do their work. I am glad he told us this because Ming and I were beginning to leap around with joy a bit too much (well I was!)

One of the hardest things for Ming is that he can never, ever, lift anything too heavy, or twist and turn like most of us (yesterday, when I turned around to look at something, he said, ‘I wish I could do that.’) I pretended to play a violin of sorrow until we both cracked up laughing.

Bravo Ming!

Family Friendship Grief Happiness

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Motherhood

by jmgoyder

It has been fascinating to watch Queenie and the peachicks out and about. They roam freely now everywhere and are quite used to my presence. Sometimes they forage on the lawn just outside my office door where I can watch them and talk to them through the fly screen. It’s almost as if they have come over to say hello.

I still haven’t found a mate for Baby Turkey, but I promised him I would by next week and he perked up a little bit.

Godfrey and Zaruma, despite being male, continue to guard the ducklings. They are out and about for much of the day now too, always with the two male mothers guarding them – Godfrey with hisses and Zaruma with a little smile on his funny face.

This morning my mother came over and we cried together and it was like a gift of rain on a rose bush thought dead, but now budding again; it was like a single dewdrop until you see there are hundreds of them; it was like a hidden stream, full of pebbles and tadpoles and lilies and, well (I can’t help myself here!) ducklings.

Motherhood is a powerful thing.

Animal Family Friendship Grief Happiness LOVE STORY Wings

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A disco duckling, a haughty gander, and a very depressed turkey

by jmgoyder

The little duckling in the centre of this photo is distinct from the other two because s/he is smaller and paler. But, after what I witnessed the other evening, I have decided to call this duckling Michael Jackson.

I had put the gang, including ducklings, into their yard for the night, then turned the hose on the avocado tree which is right behind Ming’s shed where he now lives. As soon as I turned the hose on, Michael Jackson squeezed through the fence and began swimming in the growing puddle. The other two ducklings (the ‘Twins’ because they are identical) followed Michael Jackson to the puddle, so I had to let Godfrey out again in order to herd them back in. He gave me his usual ‘look’ – a combination of ferocity and disdain.

At that very moment, Ming began to play his guitar very loudly and the birds and I got a bit of a fright. Well, little Michael Jackson went crazy and I nearly ran to Ming’s shed to tell him to stop the noise until I realized that the duckling was actually dancing! It ran around in circles, twirled around in the puddle of water, threw itself at the twins and frolicked madly. When Ming stopped playing his guitar for a few moments, the duckling just stood still, as if waiting, then, when Ming resumed, the whole happy dance thing happened again. It’s one of the funniest things I have ever seen and I wish I had it on video.

Godfrey watched fondly, as I did, then I turned the hose off and he herded Michael Jackson and the twins back into the yard.

The only lonely one now is Baby Turkey because we lost Bubble, his main companion months ago. Baby Turkey now prefers to be in his own yard, away from the happiness of the geese and ducks. He sleeps a lot but when he gets up he still looks so sad. I have decided to try and find him a mate, a female turkey, so that he will be happy again and am hoping that the place where I got the ducklings will have one to spare. They have turkey chicks so maybe they will sell me one of the mothers.

Baby Turkey’s loneliness is a constant reminder of Anthony’s. I have not been allowed into the nursing home for a few days because I have a chest infection, so Ming and my mother have been in several times and I am relying on phone chats with Ants. He doesn’t understand that I am sick; he just seems to think I am neglecting him and I got a phone-call the other morning from one of the nurses, to say he didn’t want to get out of bed. I ended up speaking to him but he was quite incoherent. This is the first time I have known him to be like this in the morning because this usually happens in the evening.

I don’t know why the quote ‘This is how it is’ resonates so powerfully for me; after all, it is a statement of the obvious. I like it though because it beckons some sort of response, it curls around a sort of question, and it invites a sort of acceptance.

Sort of!

Godfrey and I have agreed to disagree, and I still love him.

Animal Family Friendship Grief Happiness LOVE STORY Parkinson's disease Wings

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Duckling update – some sad and happy news

by jmgoyder

The four ducklings are, unfortunately, now three because the biggest little one kept adventuring off by himself, including getting out of the pen when our dogs were out. (To explain, we let the dogs, Jack and Blaze, out every morning for their run, then put them back in their yard at 1pm which is when we let the geese, duck, ducklings and turkey out. In the evening, once the birds are in their pens and Queenie and chicks in the tree, we let the dogs out again.)

Two days ago we found the little duckling’s corpse on the driveway. He had obviously gotten out of the pen when the dogs were out. Or it may have been a fox or crow. It would have been very quick but that’s not much comfort. He was a nonconformist from the start and didn’t hang with the gang very well. Here he is a few days ago, always on the other side of the fence or turning in the opposite direction to the others. He was a wanderer.

One of the hardest things about free-ranging birds of any sort is that casualties are inevitable. Ever since we began to accumulate various birds, I have learned this the hard way and I guess that’s why I got four ducklings instead of two. And I didn’t name them for the same reason although, if this little one had survived, I would have called him ‘Peppy”.

Since Peppy’s demise, Godfrey (head gander) and Zaruma (head drake) and all of the other geese have been much more vigilant in protecting and surrounding the remaining three ducklings. Godfrey is particularly attentive – he is like a male mother! He has now bitten me twice when I have come too close. Zaruma, on the other hand, just follows the ducklings constantly, wagging his tail madly. I haven’t seen him so happy since we lost his mate, Tapper. The rest of the ‘gang’ are also heavily involved in the care of the ducklings and hate losing sight of them for even a second. Godfrey and Zaruma are pictured above leading the ducklings (out of the frame, but just behind them) to the yard.

Here is a picture of Woodroffe, Seli and Pearl beckoning the ducklings out from under a shed.

Once the ducklings are a bit bigger – and they are growing fast – they will no longer be able to squeeze through the fence of the yard they go to bed in. In the meantime Ming and I will have to be much more watchful when it comes to the dogs.

Nature can be beautiful but it can also be cruel.

Animal Family Grief Happiness Wings

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How Queenie puts her peachicks to bed

by jmgoyder

This evening I sat outside from around 5 – 7pm as Queenie began the ritual of taking her kids to bed up in the avocado tree. First, she wandered around with them following her, digging into the ground with her big feet to give the chicks insects, showing them how to drink from a shallow bowl I’d put near the avocado tree, finding the wheat always there for all of the birds. At first I was a bit alarmed to find the little family out of the pen as early as 5pm but I guess they are now a bit beyond the pen and like to wander around the yard and back paddock freely. King (obviously the dad) stayed with them for ages, protectively.

I have maintained a respectful distance but they all come close to me anyway; they trust me and seem to rather like the flash of the camera. The photos I have put here show their long, but enjoyable, journey to bed but this is the first time I have seen the finale. I was amazed to see how the two peachicks can actually fly quite high now from branch to branch, up and up, and until they reach their mother. Queenie clucks until they get to her.

Of course the two peachicks are still extremely vulnerable; they might be taken by crows, they might drown in the pond (now that they are out of the yards), but I am hopeful that wise Queenie will prevent these possible catastrophes and King is right by her side for much of the time.

In watching this beautiful bedtime ritual, I remembered how much the birds helped me cope with the misery of Anthony’s illness, the nursing home process, Ming’s spinal operation and so many other things. Now the birds are helping me to cope with a whole new set of miseries which I blogged about yesterday, then trashed because it was all too sad. In trashing the post, I guess I also trashed the comments and I apologize for this and am grateful for those comments. Now I think the best thing is to get back to these beautiful birds for awhile.

As usual Gutsy9 became really jealous and insisted that I took her photo too.

Tonight, I would love to be one of Queenie’s peachicks, up high in the avocado tree, under her gentle wings.

But I am a bit too big!

Animal blogging Family Friendship Grief Happiness LOVE STORY Parkinson's disease Wings

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Arthur’s funeral

by jmgoyder

Ming and I went to Arthur’s funeral today and I guess, in all such occasions, there is a sense of disbelief that the person is gone. It felt surreal. I tried not to let my mind do the memory play thing – making poached eggs for breakfast for the workers when I was 17 and Arthur was middle-aged, listening to talk about the football and politics, watching him play around with Ming when he was a toddler, sitting on his veranda with Anthony before Anthony had to go to the nursing home, roast duck, turkey or chicken on special occasions like Christmas, Father’s day, Arthur’s birthday, organizing him going into a nursing home when the worker’s hut nearly collapsed, visiting him with Ming and Ants, kissing him on the cheek to say goodbye two weeks ago, not knowing it would be the last goodbye.

Arthur never married or had children and he was a bit of a loner, but he loved just being here, sitting on the veranda. He was way more supportive of my bird idea than either Ants or Ming when I first started getting chooks, geese, peacocks etc. and always gave me the thumbs up (until I got the emus and then he gave me the thumbs down and shook his head!) “Oh Jules,” he would say with a grin.

He was different, unusual and a bit reclusive but one of the things that has struck me over and over ever since Arthur died is that he is the only person I have ever met, or am likely to meet, who is totally without guile.

I wanted so much to show him the new peachicks and now it is too late.

This little peachick salutes you, Arthur, as we all do.

Animal Family Friendship Grief Wings

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How not to be haunted

by jmgoyder

I don’t know how not to be haunted by the car accident last October. That Ming was at fault is a no-brainer, but that five beautiful children were injured is only slightly alleviated by the relief that they are all okay now, physically.

Psychologically, I don’t know. One niece emailed me to say she was shooting basketball hoops better than ever before and she quoted ‘you have to fall before you fly’. Her younger brother’s broken leg has healed and he can play football again and his twin sister’s wise smile shows me she is okay too. My other niece, who was in a spinal brace for three months, is now back to school, has a new kitten, and is enjoying life again. Her best friend (also in the accident) has fully recovered from a complicated arm fracture.

But we, the parents, are all still haunted by the shadow of death that loomed that night; the phone-call from Ming, the mutual panic, the helicopter taking my younger brother with his son to the city, the screaming cries of my sister-in-law and my shocked mother on the front veranda as I threw myself into the car and drove madly around the district, unable to focus on where the accident had happened even though it wasn’t far from home.

I remember stopping the car finally and ringing my friend who immediately went to the scene of the accident. And I also remember – vividly – hoping that if anyone were to die, it would be Ming, not the other kids. Obviously I would never tell Ming this but it’s true and I still maintain that, but am unsure of course.

How the hell do people cope when someone is killed, or permanently injured, in this kind of stupid accident? And how, as a family, do we cope with the aftermath of what has happened to us? I don’t know.

I have made so many mistakes in my communication with some loved ones over this that I feel like giving up and just succumbing to absolute despair. When I stopped the car that night, unable to find the accident site, I wanted so much to just die myself – such a coward I guess. I was terrified!

Ming’s phone-call that night: “Mum, I’ve had an accident; everyone is alive.” His sobbing voice will haunt me forever. Okay, so I probably shouldn’t be dwelling on this but how can I not?

So I watch the new ducklings until the haunting feelings go away.

Family Friendship Grief LOVE STORY Wings

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Anthony’s 78th birthday yesterday

by jmgoyder

The photos are courtesy of my ma, Meg, and nieces, Jane and Ashtyn. It was all fairly low key because of Anthony’s inability to cope in a crowd (with Parkinson’s disease, it is very difficult to focus on more than one thing).

Ants, Ming and I spoiled each other with birthday gifts yesterday; mine was a ridiculous amount of cheese; Ming’s was a Scottish kilt; and Anthony’s was a shirt that he was not enthralled with. And the sprinkling of friends and relatives was perfect. Jane, as usual, gave us all presents, Ashtyn took a million photos and my ma did the tea and coffee stuff. Geoff, a wonderful guy who used to work here, brought a cake which was great because Julie (not me, my sil) was complaining about the lack of one haha!

Ming took Ants back to the nursing home at around 4.30pm because he was exhausted. I would have invited more people but it would have been too hard. I did invite a few more but they couldn’t come which was actually a relief because I couldn’t remember who I had invited! Plus Ming and I wanted to take Ants over the road to have a drink with his brother but, by 4pmish, we could see this would be impossible. It took three of us to even get Ants into the car to go back to the nursing home, but I didn’t cry for a change.

Small parties are the best! Happy birthday, Ants.

PS. Would anyone like some cheese?

Family Friendship Grief Happiness LOVE STORY Parkinson's disease Wings

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Arthur

by jmgoyder

I found out this morning that Arthur died yesterday and am so terribly sad. Arthur worked for Anthony’s family as a dairy hand for decades and lived in the worker’s hut. He first came here when he was a teenager (well before my time). Less than two years ago, when Anthony had already begun living in the nursing home, Arthur began to seem very frail and ill and the hut was falling down, so I helped to arrange his transition to a nursing home (not the same one as Anthony’s). It was a heartbreaking decision because Arthur loved it here. After the dairy folded, he simply lived here, did a few odd jobs and, in latter years, just loved to sit on his veranda and watch the birds.

But Arthur thrived in the nursing home, to begin with. He had company, friends, and he was popular with the staff because he was such an unusual character. Ming and I visited him as often as we could, and just two weeks ago I took Anthony to visit, but we could see that Arthur was very ill.

When I rang to tell Anthony this morning, I was hit with such a wave of sorrow and nostalgia that I wept clumsily into the phone and, once again, Anthony had to comfort me. Arthur was part of the fabric of this place, this farm, our lives, for so long. He watched Ming grow up, he kissed me gently on the cheek last time we visited, and he and Anthony shook each others’ frail hands.

Family Friendship Grief Wings

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Listen to me!

by jmgoyder

It is over ten years since I completed my PhD in cultural studies; my thesis focused on the importance of listening to the storying of people with Alzheimer’s Disease. It was not a scientific thesis (and at the time I had no idea what the difference between qualitative and quantitative research was); it was more of an exploratory study of the art and gift of listening.

My interest in how listening might help/give comfort was inspired by the various patients in the nursing home in which I worked at the time – in particular a guy who I called ‘Joe’ who seemed to think I was his long-deceased fiancee.

After I graduated, I rewrote the thesis as a book and it was published – We’ll be married in Fremantle. This is not a plug for the book, as it was published way back in 2001, and not a best seller by any means, although it was shortlisted for various prizes for nonfiction.

I remember Anthony being so proud of me, for the PhD and then the book (Ming was a little kid then and Anthony was in good health), but I also remember, after all those years of academic study, how the simple art of listening would always be important to me.

Listening isn’t as easy as it sounds because sometimes it is difficult to shut up, refrain from giving advice etc. I make this mistake all the time with Ants and Ming (for different reasons, obviously), but now I am re-learning my own advice – to just listen.

Tonight, Ming said, “Mum, just listen to me!” and I did, and I shut my mouth, and I learned more about my open-hearted son than I have for ages.

Okay, before I get too sentimental, we are getting some ducklings tomorrow to keep our only duck company – I am so excited!

Animal Family Friendship Grief Happiness LOVE STORY Parkinson's disease Wings

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jmgoyder

wings and things

Ten degrees of joy

Motherhood

A disco duckling, a haughty gander, and a very depressed turkey

Duckling update – some sad and happy news

How Queenie puts her peachicks to bed

Arthur’s funeral

How not to be haunted

Anthony’s 78th birthday yesterday

Arthur

Listen to me!

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