Ming | jmgoyder

It’s time for an inspection!

by jmgoyder

Yikes! Dina is coming out to the farm tomorrow to pick me up for lunch at a brewery not far from here. This means she will spot any residues of chaos in the house and Ming’s shed.

Okay, just to refresh your memory, Dina is the wonderful woman who helped us to declutter and reorganise the house and sheds. Her business is https://www.chaostoclear.com.au

So I have around 25 hours to ~~hide~~ do my pile of paperwork, and Ming (who isn’t home yet from gallivanting down south) has even less time to make his shed presentable.

A few weeks ago, Dina, a mutual friend and I went out for lunch, and they picked me up. I wasn’t sure if they’d come into the house or not so, in the hour before they arrived, I went into a neat-and-tidy frenzy. Well they didn’t come in so that was a bit of an anti-climax and, during lunch, I told them and Dina laughed.

But tomorrow is different. Tomorrow, as part of her service, Dina will be conducting a follow-up inspection at my request.

Now don’t get me wrong; Dina is the kindest, most uncritical decluttering expert I know (well I don’t know any others) and I am not a slob (mostly). But she is also very frank and I am a bit disorganised. This makes for a beautiful friendship but OMG I only have 24 hours left!

Yikes!

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Nonsense

by jmgoyder

Whenever Anthony says something during our afternoons together, I either hit ‘mute’ on the television, or ‘pause’ if it’s a dvd.

This is so that I can listen and respond to whatever he is saying, or trying to say. His voice has become very whispery and sometimes croaky lately and, even when he does get the words out, they sometimes
don’t
make
sense….

The following dialogue is an example of how weird and wonderful our conversations can be. I am learning how to be unafraid of nonsense, to enter its world in an Alice-in-Wonderland kind of way, to talk, listen, laugh and pause.

Anthony: How did you know where to find me?

Me: Instinct.

Anthony: You have good instincts.

Me: I know.

PAUSE

Anthony: Can you get this calf to get out of underneath the….

Me: What?

Anthony: This bbbb mmmm toothpaste.

Me: What? Try again.

Anthony: The cat toothpaste.

Me: The toothpaste is free, Ants, and there’s no cat here. Anyway I thought you hated cats.

Anthony: There are five.

Me: You’re hallucinating but I’ll shoo them away, anyway; is that better?

Anthony: Not much.

PAUSE

Me: So, do you think I look different today?

Anthony: No.

Me: Ants, I am wearing a dress for God’s sake. I never wear dresses!

Anthony: Oh.

Me: So what is different about me?

Anthony: Your legs are shorter.

Me: Oh.

Anthony: Is Mum okay?

Me: My mum or your mum?

Anthony: Ours.

Me: She’s fine.

Anthony: Where’s Ming?

Me: He’s at work but he’s coming to visit soon.

Anthony: Does he know I’m at the Rose Hotel?

Me: I’ll tell him.

Anthony: Where is your mother?

Me: Why do you always want to know where my mother is?

Anthony: Well she should be here and I’m worried about her eyes.

Me: Can we just watch the show, Ants?

Anthony: Haven’t we seen this, Jules?

Me: Well it’s a series, so yes and no. We are now up to the third season.

Anthony: Can you bumblebee the cardboard over there?

Me: What?

Anthony: Can you mmmbrrr oh my words don’t. What’s the thing wrong again, Jules?

Me: Ants, you have Parkinson’s, plus you are really quite old. And you have very strange ears.

Anthony: I have perfect ears!

PAUSE

Anthony: You have a sexy stomach.

Me: WHAT? Stop looking at my stomach – I ate too much lunch!

Anthony: Look at mine – I’m thin.

Me: Well there’s no need to rub it in.

PAUSE

Anthony: There’s that baby again.

Me: It’s not a baby; it’s my handbag! See!

Anthony: I think we should go to Golden Valley [his childhood home].

Me: Not today. It’s too cold.

PAUSE

Anthony: Jules?

Me: Yes?

Anthony: Bbbb mmmm – oh I can’t speak.

Me: Do you want the rug on your knees?

Anthony: That’s the elbow, good.

PAUSE

Me: You’re adorable and I love you.

Anthony: Mmm.

Me: You’re supposed to say it back.

Anthony: What?

Me: ‘I love you’.

Anthony: I know you do.

Me: No, I mean you’re supposed to say ‘I love you’ back to me!

Anthony: You already do.

PAUSE

Me: I’ll show you a picture of Ming dressed up as a nurse for Halloween, okay? You are going to be shocked.

Anthony: Nothing shocks me.

Me: Okay, check this out!

Anthony: He is magnificent!

I rest my case: nonsense is a good thing!

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Special K

by jmgoyder

‘Special K’ is the nickname I have chosen to give my 13-year-old, 6’2″ nephew, not just for the sake of his privacy, but also because he is especially special.

This is a difficult post to write but here goes: Special K was one of the five children injured in a car accident in which Ming was the driver … a bit over two years ago.

Special K was the only one thrown out of Ming’s ute, his leg was broken badly, and he was subsequently emergency-helicoptered to Perth with his father (my youngest brother). And yet this brave and beautiful boy, instead of screaming, helped everyone to calm down. I don’t know how he did this because I wasn’t there; I was at the other end of a suddenly-silent telephone call in which Ming said, “Mum, I’ve had an accident.”

Fast forward to now and all of the children have recovered physically except for Special K who needs an operation to remove the plate from his leg. He might even need another smaller plate inserted; I don’t know.

Ming and I were talking about life and death yesterday and he admitted that he thinks about the accident every single day.

Me: But you were so philosophical at the time, Ming! You kept reminding me that nobody died!

Ming: You were a mess, Mum.

I think the fact that Special K has to have an operation on his injured leg has thrown me back to that dreadful night and reminded me of how resilience works.

As you can see from the photo, Special K is almost as gorgeous as our brand new 007!

[This post is for you, Jo – mother of all mothers!]

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Another day with Anthony

by jmgoyder

After the fright of the other day when Ants was unconscious for so many hours (much longer than usual), I now realise that my being there every day is important. (Confession: I have been taking ‘days off’ here and there recently).

The first interesting thing about this is that, according to staff, relatives, and visitors, if I am not there, Anthony asks for me and is sometimes fretful.

The second interesting thing about this is the whole time warp thing: i.e. I rush in to see Ants on my way to getting the car serviced, seeing whether we have won lotto, buying chick starter etc. so it’s a very brief visit. And he always knows that I will be back soon, even when I don’t come back that day/night. Five minutes can equate to-and-fro with five hours – or vice versa.

The third interesting thing about this is Anthony’s daily mention of Ming. He never does this in a needy way; he is just always very curious and loves seeing photos of Ming, including Ming’s latest Halloween antics/costume at the restaurant where he works. These photos (as well as the photos of Ming on the walls of Anthony’s nursing home room) are always a buzz – “There he is!” Anthony will sometimes say.

When I told Ming about the frightening day, I cried because I was scared that we might lose Anthony suddenly (which, of course, we will). In telling Ming about my day with Anthony, I realised, and saw, how alike they are: generous, sensitive, gregarious, easy-going, beautiful.

Another day with Anthony…
… enhanced by the fact of Ming.

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Turning corners

by jmgoyder

Corners on King (https://www.facebook.com/cornersonking/?fref=ts) is the restaurant where Ming has worked for just over a year now. It is run by a couple of guys who have very good taste in terms of decor, food, AND picking staff who are willing to dress up for Halloween.

Yes, that is Ming on the left in the above photo. I was feeling a bit blah yesterday morning but, when I switched on my newly-switched-on computer, and the internet rushed into my laptop, this photo was the first I saw.

Okay so it took me a few seconds to realise that it was Ming! Other photos followed and I was so overtaken by laughter that the whole blah thing disappeared. I got showered and dressed and drove into town for lunch with this beautiful nurse.

Once I figure out how to save the photos I took of Ming in his nurse’s outfit, as he and I lunched together during his break, I will post them. It was the most glorious hour of halloween hilarity.

And then I went to the nursing home to see Anthony. I arrived at 1pm and left at about 4.30pm. For these hours I was unable to wake him up no matter how much I shook his shoulders, squeezed his hands, shouted (as quietly as I could) ‘Wake up, Ants!’ His nephew visited, a friend visited, the nurse-in-charge came in and checked his blood pressure etc. and reassured me that all was well. I visited the dementia wing a couple of times, showed several staff and residents the photos of Ming, laughed and joked, in the hope that when I returned to Anthony’s room he would be awake. He wasn’t.

The possibility that Anthony might die during – or soon after – one of these TIAs (which seem to be occurring more often), is a corner I have been hesitant to turn into. I was calm yesterday afternoon, then terrified, then resigned. When I got home, Ming was here, and listened to my tearful fears in the same way I listen to his; after all, we both love Anthony.

It is entirely possible that Anthony will live for many more years; it is equally possible that he will die soon. I am not ready for the latter, despite many attempts to BE ready, and I cannot imagine my life without Anthony in it. His room in the nursing home, the staff who have become such wonderful friends, my arm around his shoulder, our long afternoons watching television, bantering, just being together, sometimes reminiscing, sometimes eating and drinking, laughing, looking at photos, doing paperwork, engaging with staff, residents, friends, relatives, visitors … his room has become my refuge, my home.

Ah, but I do have another home – a place where I can eat, drink, write, relax. I can be one of those trendy people who drink short blacks whilst writing articles about the meaning of life and death OR the proud mother of the waiter at Corners on King.

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This, that….

by jmgoyder

This,
that….

Well I got back from Perth last week and the first thing I did was to rush to my new beaut vegetable garden and also check the chooks. I fed and watered both with a sense of quiet glee.

The second thing I did was to go inside and log on. When nothing happened I didn’t panic since all the green lights were indicating merrily that the internet wasn’t too far away.

Six hours later, having spoken to six different technical support people, all of whom were amazingly patient, kind and positive (with the exception of one woman whose sighs, when I didn’t understand her click34xcableetc instructions, became thunderous on loudspeaker) were confident.

At one point, during this ungleeful, longwinded experience, I rang Ming who said that when he got home he’d sort it out in a jiffy. Well he tried, and even spoke to other technical support people, to no avail.

The Ming then said, with great compassion and a generous hug, “Maybe you’re just not intelligent enough, Mum….?”

I let his observation linger for the ten days during which I had no internet except via my phone. When I began to get the 5s mixed us with the Ss, I gave up.

Anyway, yesterday the replacement modem arrived at the post office and Ming picked it up, brought it home, connected it and voila!

So what am I supposed to do now? I can’t possibly answer all of the zillions of emails and comments and facebooky stuff; I can’t possibly catch up on ten days of my blog friends’ blogs; I can’t even catch up with what I was going to do before I lost the internet because my blog kind of reminded me of what to do.

I survived my ten day blip of no internet, but the person most affected by my off-the-internet-radar status was my beautiful mother. Meg and I have a strong internet relationship via email and Facebook, but she is more attentive to messages than I am, so, when I lost the internet, she was the first to miss me.

And today is her birthday. She is 81, looks 61 and acts like 21. So today Meg came to the farm to see the vegetable garden then we went to a local winery for lunch. The secret surprise was that Ming and A. would join us and that was a fantastic thing!

It’s great to be blogging again. That internet blip taught me something really profound: I need the internet!

One of the hardest things for me now is having fun – the guilt of it. Lunches with friends, learning how to garden with new friends, figuring out the future, altering and/or discarding things in this old house, renewing ….

This,
that,
and the other….

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Full of beans!

by jmgoyder

A long lost dream is coming true via a tall man with red hair, named Dan, whose business is called Full of Beans. Thanks to him, my vegetable garden is being created! If it weren’t for being invited to join the gardening group I would never have known about him, so I am very grateful. Ironically, I can’t attend tomorrow’s get-together because Dan is coming back to do the planting and I want to learn.

One of the things that really appeals to me about Full of Beans is that it provides an ongoing maintenance service for gardening novices like me.

Okay, so gardening friends far and wide may see this as a kind of cheating on my part (employing someone to make me a vegetable garden) but oh well. I am already crazy about what Dan has begun to create and can hardly contain my excitement.

Anthony was an avid gardener, despite not having much time, with milking the cows and looking after his mother. Nevertheless almost everything he planted, over 50 years ago, still survives. But he was never the least bit interested in growing vegetables. A couple of years into our marriage, I asked for a vegetable garden but he said there was no room. I argued that there was plenty of room (5 acres around the house!) to no avail.

And, as Ming grew up into an adolescent, he formed the same opinion. It was just a small dream of mine but neither of them would have a bar of it. That’s okay; they just weren’t interested and maybe didn’t realise how much I wanted the vegetable garden. I couldn’t do it by myself so one year my brother came out and dug me a patch and every single gigantic zucchini gave me a thrill. But that went by the wayside in the face of Anthony’s mysterious deterioration in health (we didn’t know about his Parkinson’s then) and the fact that I was working full-time that year.

Now that Anthony is no longer cognisant of our shared reality; now that Ming is in a fantastic relationship; now that I am learning how to be completely alone, a vegetable garden seems profound.

A long lost dream is coming true via a tall man with red hair, named Dan, whose business is called Full of Beans.

http://www.fullofbeans.com.au

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An argument about Anthony’s smile

by jmgoyder

You know how I’ve been saying how wonderful it is to see Anthony smiling again, and that I’ve been crediting myself with having made a huge effort to get that smile back? Well, Ming disagrees.

Today was a day off work for Ming so he went to see Anthony and I had a day at home. When he got back he told me that he had Anthony laughing!

Ming: Mum, Dad never lost his smile!

Me: You don’t see him as much so you don’t know – anyway you can always make him smile because you’re Ming!

Ming: So can you and so can anybody!

We left it at that; after all there is no point having an argument about a smile. Nevertheless our brief argument got me thinking about Anthony’s Parkinson’s ‘mask’ (the blank, unblinking, slack-jawed expression on his face, typical of PD). And I realised that the only reason I see this more than anyone else does is probably because, when I visit, I am there for hours so I see the fluctuations.

For example, when staff come into Anthony’s room and banter or flirt with him, he smiles; when friends and relatives visit, he smiles; when Ming and I visit, he smiles. So perhaps I should adjust my thinking to the possibility that it has become easier to conjure/coerce that smile? Maybe Anthony’s smile, and even his laugh, was always there, always ready to be there.

Maybe it was my own smile that went missing for so long.

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Wings

by jmgoyder

The weather here is warming up rapidly and the five peacocks are madly competing for the attention of the three peahens. (I definitely need to replenish my stock of hens but don’t tell Ming!)

Every Spring the guys do their display thing, flirting with everything from the old dairy shed, to the car, to the windows of the enclosed back veranda. They also flirt with the peahens of course whose indifference is hilarious.

For most of the year, King Ken and Prince are the best of friends but during Spring they become bitter rivals:

King Ken: Don’t come any closer, kid.
Prince: Sorry, Uncle.

King Ken: And stop copying my moves!
Prince: I don’t mean to, Uncle, it’s just sort of automatic.

Prince: I bow to your majesty. You have to believe me, Uncle!

Then, all of a sudden, they flew up and at each other with claws and wings arrowed. I wasn’t quick enough, with my phone camera, to capture this brief struggle; also I had to break it up! King Ken skedaddled with the other Kings so I comforted Prince with a bit of bread.

………………………………………………………

Sometimes I wonder why I write these little stories, put fake words into the mouths of these beautiful, wordless birds via captions. I think it’s something to do with the way I first began to cope with Anthony’s Parkinson’s – the birds we accumulated – guinnea fowl, peafowl, various poultry…. In the beginning it was such a joy.

Then, as Anthony’s health deteriorated, and Ming needed spinal surgery, and I had to resign from my job at the university, the birds became symbolically, and realistically, a source of incredible comfort.

Wings.

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Swings and roundabouts

by jmgoyder

Yesterday I said, rather blithely, “I refuse to be sad” (about Anthony’s Parkinson’s disease etc.). This morning I realised why it’s possible for me to say this.

Anthony isn’t sad!

It’s as simple as that. Okay, so saddish moments come and go, and the first year of him being in the nursing home was a hell of mutual sorrow. But, in retrospect, it was me shedding most of the tears, not Anthony. In fact often, when I left to come home, he would comfort me.

But it’s now that matters and in-the-now neither of us is sad, which is a bit of a miracle really. The weird irony is that I would not be able to cope with Anthony’s illnesses if it weren’t for his own emotional resilience. I’m not very good at emotional resilience, but Ants is.

People often think that the person in the nursing home is the vulnerable one and that he or she is the one in need of comfort. But sometimes it’s the other way around; it’s the visiting spouse or daughter, or grandson, or friend, who is in need of comfort.

Anthony comforts me!

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jmgoyder

wings and things

It’s time for an inspection!

Nonsense

Special K

Another day with Anthony

Turning corners

This, that….

Full of beans!

An argument about Anthony’s smile

Wings

Swings and roundabouts

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