jmgoyder

wings and things

All alone – ahhhhhhh!

Pure bliss!

Ming has gone to Perth to watch a football game so there is nobody here to say:

What’s for dinner?
Why are you flooding the pens and wasting water on those stupid birds?
I thought we were watching a movie together 20 minutes ago!
I don’t particularly like this dinner – what is it?
What the hell are you crying for – what did I do wrong now?
Don’t touch any of my stuff!
But why do you want me to move out?
You ruined my life yesterday when you said to move out.
No, I don’t want to ring Dad again!

On the other hand….

Mum, you are like my mate.
Do you need a hug?
I’m sorry I didn’t like the dinner – I tried to!
Are you okay?
Can we have a talk about life tonight?
I wish I knew Dad when he was young.
I love you, Mum.

He is my best friend – this Ming – but it’s still rather pleasant to be Mingless for 24 hours – haha!

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Let me in!

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Gutsy9 (the 5-month-old peachick I raised inside the house because none of our peahens were interested) is thriving outside now. He sleeps in a pen with the ducks, Zaruma and Tapper, but every morning I find him in the adjacent pen with the turkeys, Bubble and Baby Turkey! Oh well at least he doesn’t venture into the geese pen because Godfrey hates him.

As soon as I open the three pens to let them all free-range for the day, I am met with a cacophony of excited noises and then G9 actually sprints after me to the house and follows me inside.

Until today. Today I decided to say no to him, and tried to explain that his peacock poop is the reason. He wasn’t happy!

Oh and G9 is definitely a boy because our friend, Mike, who raises peas told me so. I’m not as thrilled as Anthony was when Ming was born and he yelled IT’S A BOY!

Secretly I was hoping for a little peahen – ha!

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Slapstick taxi mishaps

I seem to be developing an unintentional talent for slapstick comedy especially when it is a wheel-chair taxi situation.

This afternoon, Anthony came home for a few hours and it was great until he became ‘wobbly’ (that’s our word for when the Parkinson’s disease gets the better of him).

Anyway, the taxi arrived to take Ants back to the nursing lodge and there was a flurry of activity as Ming and I got him into the wheelchair, and the taxi driver and an apprentice got him into the taxi, and I tried to find my elusive wallet.

Once all of that was okay, and I’d said goodby to Ants, I thanked the driver, shook his hand and closed his door so he could drive off.

He was such a kind person so I thought he was yelling at me (over the sound of the taxi engine) that I was such a kind person too, but he just kept yelling.

I had slammed the door on his foot!

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Little lull

This afternoon, after Ming and I visited Anthony in the nursing lodge, I took Ming to catch the train to Perth for the weekend.

As soon as I got home, the euphoria of being alone hit me, but so did the asthma (I think the hayfever must’ve become bored).

I have the meds. and all okay but I am going to have a little rest from internetty stuff for a few days.

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Hardening the heart

I’m not sure if this is right or wrong, sensible or nonsensical, normal or not, but sometimes I have to harden my heart in a very deliberate way in order to ‘seize the day’.

We probably all do this to some extent – I’m not sure. All I know is that if Anthony is forlorn, or Ming is angry, or I am wondering/wandering, I seem to be able to harden my heart against itself.

And then I can breathe again.

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Coincidences

In 1959, Anthony turned 23, had his first relationship with a woman, his father died, and, across the other side of Australia, I was born.

I had my first relationship with a man (Anthony) when I was 23.

My father died at the age of 58. Ming was born when Anthony was 58.

Ming and I both have a parent who is 77 (Anthony and my mother).

I was 19 when my father died. Ming is 19 now and his father is dying.

Coincidences can be interesting, but they can also be cruel.

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A single sentence solution for sulky teenagers 2

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Ming has now become the main breadwinner in this family. He’s been working part-time for over a year now as a dairyhand for the family whose farm adjoins ours. Then, as of a few weeks ago, he’s been working three mornings per week as a farmhand for a man who lives up the road. Altogether, this just about equates to full-time work and a full-time wage.
As a result, Ming gets a bit tired and grumpy sometimes and this morning he said, Ï don’t want to work for the other guy anymore!”

Here are the sentences that formed in my mind:

– How can you be so lazy?
– You should be grateful to have work when there’s so much unemployment!
– When I was your age I had three jobs!

But I didn’t say any of those things because I was suddenly struck with gratitude for the way Ming is transitioning from boy to man, so I said:

I am so proud of you, Ming.

His grimace turned into a grin!

[Note: The prequel to this published itself prematurely – sorry!]

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Ageism 2

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I feel compelled to write a follow-up to yesterday’s post due to the interesting comments that were made. There was even a little debate on my blog which has never happened before!

The ageism that Ming has admitted to is not directed at just Anthony; it is more generalized. He is easily annoyed with all things old – not just people. For example we live in a very old house where things are beginning to break down and wear out – old carpets, broken furniture, warped flyscreens, holes through which mice enter, old plumbing, electrical wiring etc. Similarly, we have problems outside with old lawnmowers, trees, sheds, hoses, water tanks etc.

This is all perfectly normal for an old farm and none of it is insurmountable, but getting things fixed is expensive and time-consuming and, for young Ming, a source of constant frustration.

Add to this old Anthony’s deterioration in health and we have a young Ming with an aversion to both the concept and reality of the word öld”.

If I were to define compassion, I would say it is equal parts sympathy and empathy. Sympathy is feeling sad FOR somebody else, whereas empathy is feeling sad LIKE somebody else. In general, the latter does not come easily to young people when dealing with old people.

I think that if Ming weren’t compassionate, he would not be worried about his lack of empathy for Anthony. He wants to be empathetic but he can’t feel it and I can’t make him feel it, so we accept it. His love for Anthony runs deep, but his liking of Anthony is problematic because Ants is now so old, frail and incapacitated that Ming avoids seeing him. Strangely, I am the one most hurt by this as Ants is more philosophical and remembers feeling the same aversion to his own father after his father had a stroke.

Yesterday’s post was not intended as a moan or a cry for help; I was just telling it like it is, warts and all!

When people ask Ming, “So, what are you doing these days?” Ming always replies proudly, Ï’m following in Dad’s footsteps.” I used to think Ming was referring to the fact that he is milking cows but now I think his statement means much more.

Oh yeah, and a bad day doesn’t mean a bad life. We are lucky.

61 Comments »

Ageism

Before I entered university life, I worked for around ten years in nursing homes. I felt an enormous affection for elderly people and began to understand the communication value of stories told by people who were in various stages of dementia.

I wrote a PhD, then a book, then articles – all published – and Anthony was so proud of me. We used to talk about the elderly people I’d met, their stories, my theories, and the various drawbacks of life in a nursing home. This was around the same time we got married – 20 years ago.

Little did I know then what would happen to us now, that Anthony would be in a nursing home, that Anthony would get Parkinon’s disease dementia (PDD), that Ming, our son, would become ageist.

Like many young people, Ming has an aversion to old age, but he never used to! He used to be compassionate and kind; now he is either horrified or indifferent.

We had a discussion about this last night and Ming actually admitted to ageism.
“It’s Dad’s fault,” he said.

I went outside and wept.

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Sibling rivalry

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Ming adored Gutsy9 to begin with but over the weeks I have noticed a subtle change in Ming’s attitude. He’s been saying things like this:

– Get RID of him, Mum!
– He’s making a mess!
– No, I don’t want to babysit him!
– How come you’re always cuddling him – what about me?
– Why do you have to take him everywhere with you?
– You’re turning him into a spoilt brat!
– You love him more than you love me!
– No, yes, oh okay I am a bit jealous – WHO WOULDN’T BE!

Tonight is Gutsy9’s third night camping outside with a couple of new friends and I am just as anxious as I was the first night. When I mentioned my concerns to Ming, he yelled, “Well, good riddance and I hope he stays out there forever!”

“Wait until you have a child and you’ll know what it feels like,” I muttered under my breath but, unfortunately, Ming heard me.

“Mum, please, seriously, who do you love most – me or him?”

I pretended to think for a bit … “You, Ming.”

“THANK GOD!” he said, giving me a hug.

[Note: For anyone who doesn’t realize, Ming is my 19-year-old son and Gutsy9 is my 4-month-old peacock.]

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