A couple of weeks ago I put the kettle on and it boiled and I made my morning coffee A bit later, I put the kettle on again for my second cup and nothing happened. Anthony’s 1963 stove died quietly.
Sigh … it is only three years older than I am, poor old thing!
Yesterday Ming and I went up to Perth for the pre-op. things – blood and urine, ECG, consent forms for bone graft and bone marrow, consultations with a nurse, a doctor and an anaesthetist and, in the midst of all of these exciting events, I opened the letter we’d been given on arrival.
Well I got a bit of a shock because his surgery is scheduled for next Tuesday, 17th December! This means he will come out of hospital on Christmas Eve, or may be in over Christmas. Ming is elated it is happening before the new year but, with such short notice, I am a bit panicked about organizing things. He has to be in the hospital at 6.30am which means we will have to go up to Perth the night before and stay in a hotel. I will probably book in for two nights so I can see him the next day but then he wants me to come home again (“so you have time to get my Christmas presents, Mum!”)
This revision surgery is nothing compared to the massive scoliosis op. last year so it should be a piece of cake (I hope!) I took his photo this afternoon after asking him how he felt about the op. His expression is difficult to read but to me it says, “Fine!”
While we’re in Perth, these two guys will look after the farm!
After weeks of feeding Ola special grain and replenishing her water, and looking forward to her two goslings hatching, I went out this afternoon to find that she had abandoned the nest and there was only one egg there. So I brought the warm egg into the house and put it in my shirt pocket and googled goose hatching whilst stroking the egg and saying little mothery things to the gosling inside it. I found enough information to warrant going outside again and slightly cracking the egg so it could get out.
Well, guess what? There was no gosling; it was just an unfertilized and beautiful egg with a massive yoke – not a chick. And to think I was stroking this stupid egg for two hours when I could have used it to bake a cake! Argh!
Ola is frolicking without those eggs and I am feeling like a goose!
Several weeks ago a baby girl was born into our family – my nephew’s first child (with the help of his beautiful wife), my brother’s first grandchild, my mother’s first great grandchild, and my other brother’s and my own first great niece.
Seeing her today was wonderful! She has changed so much already – as babies do. Surrounded by the love of her parents, grandparents from both sides of the family, and great aunts like me, cousins and second cousins galore, this child already has the delighted expression in her navy blue eyes of being Number One!
My mother had a long conversation with her while I sat on the floor, ignored and jealous, until suddenly this fantastic baby turned her head to me, squeezed my finger in her tiny fist and told me a few home truths (I was unable to interpret but hopefully her parents will translate what she said to me later). She fixed her piercing eyes on me and uttered several baby sentences which I tried to answer to the best of my ability but eventually she threw my finger away with a look of ‘omg this auntie is thick!’
Neve – I love you, my first great niece, and your parents are pretty okay too (but you already know that!)
Ming (my son) and Meg (my mother) are very good at charades, or whatever they were playing when this photo was taken. I have no recollection of this occasion, but my mother just sent me the photo which I have never seen before! In the good old days, when Anthony still lived here at home, my ma would often come to visit on Sundays. She and Ming would play games nonstop while Anthony and I watched, bemused, amused and sometimes hysterical with laughter. Meg and Ming + Ming and Meg = Inviolable.
Meg is Ming’s only grandparent so they have a special relationship, as well as very bad taste in eye-glasses. Thanks for the guffaw, Ma!
25 years ago, before Anthony and I were married, I would often travel the two hours from Perth to the farm to spend the weekend with him (he rarely took a day off). I would turn into Paradise Road – the short, narrow road leading to the farm – stop my car and quickly refresh my lipstick, powder my nose, spray the perfume he gave me onto my neck, fluff up my hair, then zoom the remaining half mile with my heart beating madly in anticipation.
I would arrive to a shout of “JULES!” the scent of a chicken roasting in the Aga, and a hug that would nearly crush me. There would be beer, maybe a visitor or two, willy wagtails flitting here and there, and the beautiful, comforting smell of cow dung in the outside air. There would be Anthony’s bellowing laughter, my latest anecdotes about university and the nursing home where I worked, a lesson in gravy making, a beautiful meal, a favourite comedy on television and lots more hugs.
We were in love.
Now, I head in the other direction up Paradise Road to go into town to pick Anthony up from the nursing home and bring him to the farm for the afternoon. Even though I retain a tiny shred of that anticipation of 25 years ago, it is tainted with a kind of exhausted dread because I know the afternoon will be difficult. There will be no bellowing laughter, very little conversation and there will be a lot of dangerous occurrences when Anthony tries to do things he can’t do anymore – like chopping wood, washing the car, mowing the lawns, fixing the gate. I will secretly (through the kitchen window) watch him try and give up, then I will watch him stand outside, swaying slightly whilst leaning on his walker, then I will ask him to come back inside. If I hover over him it makes him feel inadequate, so I don’t but as he has had so many falls, I get anxious. I watch him struggle for half an hour with things I could do in minutes (like opening a gate, washing the dishes), and I try to breathe slowly and patiently. If he begins to do something ludicrous (like wind a clock with a knife, drink from the sugar bowl, talk to people who aren’t there) I sometimes intervene and not always gently! And he has no idea how absolutely exhausting these days at home are, no idea of the guilty relief I feel when I can take him back to the nursing home, no idea of how much my heart breaks when he says, “But why can’t I just stay here with you?”
During the drive back it will be the same halting conversation:
Me: I can’t manage you at night now – you know that, Ants – you’re too heavy.
Anthony: But I’ve lost so much weight.
Me: I know but you are still too heavy and Ming isn’t supposed to lift either.
Anthony: I’m better than I was Jules.
Me: Yes, but you still have Parkinson’s disease.
Anthony: I miss you so much – please never leave me.
Me: Idiot! Of course I won’t leave you! Ever!
Anthony: That’s good then.
We are in love.
Today Ming and I met with his lawyer for the second time and his barrister for the first time. The barrister was just as honest and down-to-earth as the lawyer, but she did warn us that jail is a possibility because five children were injured. I suppose there is no point in panicking about this yet as the court date still hasn’t been set (but of course I am panicking). Apparently the police report will be sent to the lawyer and he will send it on to us but I am not sure how it all works. The seriousness of the children’s injuries has been our main concern over the last two months so I guess I hadn’t (until now) realized how serious the repercussions might be for Ming in terms of his charges and sentencing. Thanks for all the thoughts, prayers and comments for our extended family and I’m sorry I haven’t answered all of them. I am also extremely grateful for the testimonials send to us on Ming’s behalf because apparently these will possibly have an impact on the judge’s decision. I am not going to write about any of this for awhile because it’s too difficult but, again, thanks so much for the support!
This photo was taken two years ago, before everything began to skew.
I haven’t written about the car accident for awhile because I have been too anxious and shaken, and have not wanted to publicize details that might seem like an invasion of privacy. So I haven’t posted photos or named the children for this reason and will not do so now.
For those who don’t know, eight weeks ago today, Ming took his little cousins and a friend for a ride on the back of his ute (truck), then lost control on gravel about 2 kms from home. I do not want to replay the horror of that night or talk about the details. Instead, I want to say how grateful I am that everybody is recovering well despite multiple fractures including spinal and that yesterday we got the good news that two of my nieces got their neck braces off and the one nephew will hopefully soon be able to walk again (but I don’t know how soon). The friend is recovering well from her badly broken arm but her best friend, my niece, will still be in a neck-to-waist brace for many weeks (she is the one who told me to stop inboxing her, beautiful brat!)
My whole family continues to support each other, with humour, empathy, a couple of arguments, reconcilations, renewed love for each other and enormous mutual support. So I am very proud to belong to such a family – my mother, brothers, sister-in-laws, and the kids – where forgiveness and generosity are so natural.
Ming has now been charged with five counts of dangerous driving causing bodily harm and tomorrow we see the lawyer and barrister who are taking his case. My family and friends have provided many character references for him that will hopefully help but we still don’t know the court date.
In Australia there are three levels of driving offences – careless driving, dangerous driving, and reckless driving, so Ming is in the middle. Of course I am terribly worried but I didn’t realize how worried I was until the wash of relief that all of the children will be okay – even my niece who is still in the brace and oh how I wish I could wear that bloody thing for her.
On the cusp of what if? it is difficult NOT to imagine how much worse this could have been. Yesterday, at another family get together, the children all said how haunted they were still and my heart breaks that they have this memory. I guess it will stop any of them from driving dangerously.
Ming, despite being very open about everything else in his life to me, is strangely silent about the accident and seems to just want it to go away. I understand that and I also understand how reading the character witness statements upsets him. Despite his shock and remorse and anxiety about the kids, he has that attitude of moving forward. I don’t understand his resilence any more than he understand my lack of it.
Dangerous driving is dangerous driving so please warn your younger loved ones that a joyride of this type is not worth it.
jmgoyder 