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Little great-nephew
Today was Husband’s 76th birthday so I picked him up at 11am from the nursing lodge to come home for the weekend, and we had a few friends and relatives over.
Jane took the above photo which, for me, captures it all. This is Husband with his rather curious little great-nephew!
Free and easy
This afternoon, Son went for a motorbike ride with his mates. They usually go on the bush trails around here, so it’s not roadbike stuff. On the other hand, this is not the wisest thing to do before having surgery on your back! Oh well – when I’m not intensely anxiety-ridden, I’m a free and easy mum.
Free and easy isn’t necessarily a popular stance, especially when it comes to parenting (and, now, bird-raising!) But I absolutely love it. Let me recap:
In the Christmas of 2010, Husband and I surprised Son with the motorbike of his dreams. Son had no idea, so when he got to the bottom of his pillowcase presents, he was shocked to open a tiny package containing the motorbike key. We had hidden the actual motorbike in the old dairy, so it took ages for Son to find it.
It was joy-at-first-sight – the best moment of spoiled-brattishness ever. Son was so overcome, he cried.
In free and easy mode, I let him go on the ride today, despite the impending surgery to his back. Perhaps I’m an idiot, perhaps not; I want him to be feisty, not feeble; courageous, not cowardly; free, not frightened; resiliant, not (sorry, can’t think of an ‘r’ word!)
Needless to say, but I’m going to say it anyway, this kid is the light of our lives – Husband’s life, my life and, well, Son seems to also be the light of his own life.
He LOVES himself!!
Free and easily yours….
Best friends
Today was the deadline for us (Husband, Son and me) to ‘sign’ our agreement with the nursing lodge, to ensure that the room Husband is in for respite, is, as of tomorrow, permanently his room. This has now been done.
The only way I could cope with this was to keep reiterating to Husband that he could come home any time and that Son and I would enable this and that we would not abandon him.
Husband was home here for much of the day before we had to go back and sign the forms. There was a lot of talking, a lot of silence and a lot of withheld sobbing, but we got through and I took him back to the nursing lodge. I just rang Husband and he is okay – sort of.
Tomorrow, Son and I go to Perth for 4 hours of pre-op. appointments before his scoliosis surgery on 14 Feb. Son can’t wait for his surgery so he can be straight again. It’s all pretty weird timing I guess – good in some ways, not-so-good in other ways!
This blog was initially a bird blog, with a bit of humour added. I didn’t know, when I began the blog, that the above crap was situations were going to transpire so fast, so, for the birding followers, I apologise for these diversions.
Husband has always been my best friend. He is my best friend. Son comes a close second.
The three of us.
Moonflowers 2
I can’t believe it! When I wasn’t able to get a picture of the moonflowers yesterday, I was frustrated but I didn’t panic because last January the blooming went on for a few days. In previous years they’ve only flowered on a single day. Well, it looks like this is one of those years, so I have missed out on my prize-winning photograph!
Oh well. Here’s what they look like once the sun gets to them. You’ll have to wait for next January to see what they look like in all their glory. In the meantime, all you have to do is use your imagination and ‘see’ them the way they are when the moon kisses them.
Moonflowers
Well, Son and I have now figured out where the zoom button is on my new camera so this morning, when I looked out the back window to see the moonflowers blooming, I felt a sense of exhilaration. You see they only bloom once a year and they are breathtakingly beautiful and HUGE! As many of you know, I am very un-gardenish and fairly unobservant as well (Husband calls it tunnel vision), but nobody could fail to be drawn to the magic of the moonflower. Apparently, there are various kinds of moonflower but what makes them special is that they bloom at night, then, when the sun comes up, they close.
Many moons ago, Husband, before he was Husband, and before I even knew him very well (I was employed by his mother at the time – another story), grabbed my hand one morning and pulled me out the back door to see the moonflowers in full bloom, but closing their petals fast. I was absolutely enchanted for two reasons, the first being the flowers and the second being my hand in his. You see, while he was explaining about the moonflower, Husband-to-be didn’t let go of my hand. It was many moons later that our romance bloomed but that morning was, I think, the beginning.
Anyway, nostalgia aside, when I saw the moonflowers this morning I knew I only had a limited time to take photos before they closed up. And I knew how to zoom – yeeha! So I grabbed my camera and raced outside and turned it on, with my finger ready on the zoom button. But nothing happened. Then I looked at the black screen to see the message: replace battery. Argh! So, while Son is attempting to recharge my camera, I am watching those moonflowers close, one by one, and now, in the heat of mid-morning, I have lost the race.
Oh well, there are a lot more buds on the tree, bush or whatever it is, so tomorrow, at dawn, I will be ready with my camera, ready to zoom in on those elusive, fantastic flowers.
Nurture
Last October it was my mother’s birthday (she is one year older than Husband) so my gift to her was a weekend with Son at the best, and most difficult, golf course in Western Australia. I knew I had to do this while Son was still young enough to want to do ‘Grandma stuff’ and my mother knew it too! Anyway, it was a great success as you can see from these pictures!
It was just after this golf weekend that Husband’s condition began to deteriorate rapidly. That’s what happens with Parkinson’s disease when someone has had it for nearly ten years; the disease becomes voracious – monstering and masking all the best efforts in terms of medication and doctors’ advice – obliterating the future.
No amount of filling these grey-black weeks with the birds, a cuckoo clock, and a beautiful Irish terrier, could compete with a disease that mocked us, a disease that disempowered us, a disease that swallowed Husband, Son and me into a Jonah’s whale vortex with no chance of escape.
Hence, for the first time in Son’s nearly 18 years, Christmas was a great big fizzog, with the usual joy supplanted by multiple weepings – Grandma, Son, Husband and me.
So, that evening, my mother and Son exchanged notes and this is what they said to each other. I wasn’t privy to these emails until a day or so later.
An excerpt from an email from my mother to Son 25 December 2011:
This has probably been the hardest Christmas you have ever had hasn’t it. Moving from childhood to adulthood is an ongoing transition anyway, but Christmas zeros right in to the heart of things, and for you, the childhood anticipation and wonder is having to be replaced so suddenly and harshly because it’s all tied up with your dad’s illness and the trauma the family is going through.
I am just so glad you had those beautiful gifts for your mum. She is so devoted to you and gosh, she wouldn’t be surviving this stuff without your strength and the love you have for each other.
I love and admire you more than you’ll ever know, and when I can’t be there to take care of my daughter, and I know she’s falling apart, it is such a comfort that I know she has a son like you, to help shoulder it all. Years from now, you’ll look back on this time and know that this is what has formed your strength of character, and made you a man. But right now though, you are a boy/man and have a right to feel hurt and confused. I am always available if you need me. You know that don’t you. I love you so much Darling. Gma xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
An excerpt from email sent from Son to my mother the same night:
Your the best Grandma and this is the best family / life anyone could ever imagine to have. I am indeed too lucky. In so many ways there’s a lot of good and some bad never 50/50 I grown to realise life gets harder but it also gets much better! There is always hard patches that seem to get worst over time but the that makes the good so much better! Therefore “Life really does get better and better!” I will always remember that saying you said years back “dark can never go into light – But light can shatter dark” & I thank you so much for your help. Todays a new day and I feel real good!
Thanks Grandma xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
I am very lucky, aren’t I, to have such a wonderful husband, son and mother!
Alpacas and apostrophes
There are two reasons for the following punctuation missive. The first is because teaching grammar and punctuation at the local university was my speciality, and the second is because, a few posts ago, I replied to a comment with the sentence “It’s the alpaca’s drinking trough” when I was talking about two Alpacas, not one.
I am very embarrassed now about this appalling punctuation error!
The apostrophe is that punctuation mark (like a comma that has had too much coffee, so keeps raising its eyebrow) that indicates either ownership or plurals. For example:
- Ownership: “The Alpaca’s face was beautiful” (we are talking about one Alpaca here).
- Plurals: “This is the Alpacas’ drinking trough” OR “This is the Alpacas’s drinking trough” (we are talking about two Alpacas here).
I hope you found this post exhilarating! Here are a few apostrophes to make your day ”””””””””””””””””””””””””””””””””””””””””””””””””””””
Okami and Uluru (pictured above) just don’t seem to really care – mmmm!~
Breaking
Yesterday, Son and I broke the news to Husband that his two weeks in the nursing home lodge might need to be extended, might even be indefinite and that this has been recommended by three of his doctors. Son reinforced this by starting a verbal sparring match:
Son: We can’t look after you anymore, Dad!
Husband: Well, you’re not much of a son, are you!
Me: C’mon, guys, give it a rest.
Son: Dad, can’t you see you need nursing care?
Husband: I’ll get better – wait and see. Don’t give up on me. Where’s my wife?
Son: Her name is Julie, Dad, and she’s crying in the bathroom as usual.
Husband: What the hell is she doing that for?
Me: Sorry, just had to go to the loo.
Husband: Are you okay? You look terrible. You really need a haircut.
Me: I know.
Son: Argh – I’ll meet you out in the car, Mum. Bye, Dad.
Husband: Wait – give me a hug.
Me: He’s okay; he’s a teenager.
Husband: Why is he so ….?
Me: He’s angry.
Husband: I love you two more than life.
Me: Us too.
Husband: You better go.
Me: Yeah, the brat’s waiting – give me a hug.
Husband: See you tomorrow?
Me: See you tomorrow.
Breaking, breaking, breaking, breaking, breaking, breaking, breaking, breaking, breaking, breaking, breaking, breaking, breaking, breaking…. br










