parenting | jmgoyder

The Verdict

by jmgoyder

Good news! In fact it is the best possible outcome and even the lawyer is gobsmacked. Today, in court, the police reduced Ming’s charge of “five counts of dangerous driving occasioning bodily harm” to “one count of dangerous driving” and they deleted “bodily harm” from the charge (this was the most surprising thing since the accident did cause bodily harm).

The penalty is a $500 fine plus courts costs, and Ming loses his driver’s licence for three months. Considering he was facing the possibility of a $15,000 fine, a two year suspension of his licence, and maybe jail time, this is absolutely amazing!

Thank you so much for all of the comments on yesterday’s rather melodramatic post (which I have now edited into something less melodramatic ha!) I am also deeply grateful for the support and prayers of our family and friends, the character references for Ming, and for your patience with my moodiness.

And to God: thank you for restoring my faith, and my breath, and for the fact that we didn’t need the $4000-per-day barrister after all!

Tonight we are celebrating my eldest niece’s birthday and she was sure it would be a double celebration with good news for Ming. I wasn’t so sure and my optimism was limpy.

Then, this morning, at the lawyer’s office, when he told us that there was still no answer from the police and said it may well be another adjournment, my optimism tripped over and fell. “It’s like the Samuel Beckett play, Waiting for Godot“, the lawyer said, and Ming guffawed while I tried to smile. An hour or so later, Ming and I were sitting in the court’s waiting room rather listlessly when the lawyer came out of the courtroom itself and beckoned us in, whispering, “Godot has arrived”, then he went to talk to someone else. I looked at Ming with wide eyes:

Me: What does that mean?
Ming: Duh, Mum, the charges have been reduced!
Me: But why can’t he just say that?
Ming: Because he likes to speak in metaphors.
Me: But are you sure?
Ming: Yes!
Me: Well I need to hear the actual words.

And half an hour later, I did. Yeeha!

It’s over.

blogging Family Friendship Happiness

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Court case

by jmgoyder

Tomorrow, Ming and I go back to court for the third time since the car accident last October. (For those who don’t know, Ming lost control on gravel whilst taking four cousins and a friend on a bit of a joyride on the back of his new ute/truck, and all five children were seriously injured.)

Since then, all involved have been through different versions of hell, but, with the five children healed now, life is beginning to resemble the joy of before-the-accident instead of the trauma of after-the-accident.

Ming (now 20 – he was 19 at the time of the accident) has, over the ensuing months, taken full responsibility for this accident and now awaits tomorrow’s decision from the police as to whether the charge of five counts of dangerous driving might be reduced to one count. Obviously my whole family, including the injured children, are hoping for that latter but Ming and I are now prepared for whatever happens.

Actually no! Ming is prepared, but I am terrified. If the charges against him are reduced he will plead guilty – easy – but, if the charges are not reduced, his lawyer wants him to plead not-guilty in order to negotiate further.

Several times, over the months when the children were in neck and spinal braces, and leg, arm and wrist casts I despaired and sometimes became uncharacteristically angry and, in retrospect, my family coped very well with my unfocused aggro.

I only expressed anger towards Ming once because I knew how traumatized he already was. It was a few weeks after the accident and he and I were in the car and I said, “But why, Ming – why did you take the kids for that joyride – WHY?”

At that hint of blame in my voice, Ming began to scream, then sob. Since that day, he has been calm and taken the whole legal process in his stride, whereas I have been on tenterhooks. Obviously his remorse goes without saying.

I don’t think I can go on with this tonight but glad I have written some of it down.

Wish us luck tomorrow in court!

blogging Family Friendship Grief Happiness Parkinson's disease

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Perfect!

by jmgoyder

Ming and I are going to Perth tomorrow to stay overnight with my niece and her husband in their new house and that’s the exciting part of the journey. The next day I have my first ever appointment with a skin specialist to suss out this pompholyx and, hopefully, get blood and allergy tests.

Unfortunately (and interestingly, having read a few blogposts about how hard it can be to keep up with blogposts) I will probably succumb to blog-fatigue. So, if you don’t see me on your blog, that is why. Also, Ming’s final (we hope!) court hearing is happening next Monday so this is a bit distracting too.

I took Anthony for a long drive on Sunday and it was a wonderful success; his new telephone is working for him better than the previous mobile; and I have rather belatedly discovered the secret to happiness in that it is something you create rather than wait for.

Oh! Ming just said he is auditioning for a part in some sort of production that requires a 20-year-old male with short hair who can deliver “a menacing look”.

Perfect!

blogging Family Friendship Grief Happiness LOVE STORY Parkinson's disease

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A Sunday drive

by jmgoyder

Going for a drive with Anthony, which I now do quite often, has proved to be a great success. If I am doing errands in town, I take him with me and he sits in the car while I do banking, post office, grocery and other jobs. He loves sitting in the car and watching passersby and it is a way of being together that doesn’t entail the heavy lifting of him in and out of the car except for when I collect him from the nursing home and take him back.

By lifting, I don’t mean lifting the whole of him but, in order to get him out of the car, I have to help him twist around, then grab my hands, then we do a 1-2-3 attempt to get him standing up. Then he can usually walk with the walker but sometimes not so I have to get the wheelchair. (I have now bought one that can be folded one way or the other). Getting him into the car is easier; I just use my bum to push his bum into the seat, then I lift his legs in if he can’t, then I get into the driver’s side and sort of shove him over because he has become very crooked and leans over to one side. Then I put his seatbelt on and we’re off!

I have decided to do this more frequently, rather than bringing Anthony home or taking him out to eat, or visit people, because it is so much easier on my back than the constant transfers necessary in those sorts of outings. On Sunday we went for a long drive down to the small, picturesque town where he was brought up, Balingup, and I learned a bit of a hard lesson in that I suggested we go to the pub there for a drink and some fish and chips. Ants was more mobile than usual so he managed the walker, very slowly, in and out of the pub, but once seated, he kept nearly falling off the chair because he leans so badly to the right. I had to sit on that side of him and keep pushing him upright (not particularly gently I might add!)

Here is our conversation while we ate fish and chips:

Me: Sit up for God’s sake!
Ants: You’re so rough, Jules.
Me: Wipe your moosh – you have fish all over it!
Ants: Give me the dribble rag.
Me: You had it – argh, it’s on the floor!
Ants: I have to go to the loo.
Me: What? Oh no!

After a very strenuous and slow trip to the loo with me, we got back to our table to find the fish and chips cold of course, but the beer was good. By then, however, I just wanted to get Ants back to the nursing home because I could see he was faltering (like clockwork 3pm), but he didn’t want to go.

Ants: But I’m having a good time.
Me: Too bad – I have to get you back before dinner.

It took around 20 minutes to get Ants out of the pub and into the car and we were off again! But then another problem – our thermostatic incompatibility – occurred.

Ants: Jules, I’m freezing. Put the heater on.
Me: What? It’s boiling in this car already!
Ants: Is there a blanket?
Me: Okay I’ll bring one next time, wrap you in it and put you in the boot (trunk).
Ants: You’re so sexy when you get mad.
Me: Get your hand off my knee – I’m driving!

So for the hour it took to get back I had the heater on Ants and my window open so I didn’t suffocate or sweat (I am avoiding perspiration at all costs due to the stupid pompholyx).

Long story short: I got Ants back into his room at the nursing home and comfortable in his chair, put the ABC channel on his TV and then told him I was going home and would see him the next day.

Ants: Where are we staying in Balingup?
Me: No, I’m going home to Bythorne.
Ants: So where am I?
Me: Wattle Hill – the nursing home.
Ants: Who is going to look after me?
Me: The nurses.
Ants: But they always kidnap me.
Me: No that’s just your Parkinson’s confusion – nobody is kidnapping you, Ants!
Ants: Are you sure?
Me: Yes, you’re safe and in good hands and I’ll see you tomorrow.
Ants: Give me a hug.
Me: Okay, and I love you so much babycheeks!

I got home around half an hour later and Ming asked why I was so exhausted and, when I told him about the day, he suggested that, from now on, I just do the drive thing and not get Ants in and out of the car so much.

Ming: I don’t get you, Mum. Why do you keep bothering?
Me: Because he’s my husband and I love him.
Ming: But this is not good for your happiness – you deserve it way more than Dad!
Me: Why?
Ming: Because he’s old and you’re still young!
Me: So does that mean you deserve to be happy more than I do because you’re very young?
Ming: Of course!

Okay – a few lessons learned here (I think!) One thing for sure is that our car is going to accumulate a fair bit of mileage in the coming months!

Happier days:

Family Friendship Grief Happiness LOVE STORY Parkinson's disease

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Blog blessings

by jmgoyder

I began blogging in November 2011, with no clear intention other than to write something every day, which I have for the most part. The subject matter meandered from birds to Anthony’s Parkinson’s disease, to Ming’s teenage-hood and scoliosis, to our personal struggles. I dabbled in novel and romance writing, briefly promoted my book about Alzheimer’s disease, attempted some poetry, began to write about Anthony’s and my love story, posted pictures, and generally wrote a whole lot of this-and-that.

In view of the miscellaneousness of my posts, I suppose “Wings and Things” isn’t a bad sort of blog title so I’m sticking with that because it allows me to meander in the usual way. This is obviously not good for the stats as themed blogs get more ‘hits’ but, despite wanting to make more people aware dementia sufferers should be treated with more respect, I don’t care any more about the stats.

One of the things that has astounded me about my blog journey so far has been the incredible friendships wrought (with people I may never meet in person), and the mutual support system enabled via WordPress. The blogs I subscribe to are an eclectic mix of bird, photography, illness, writing, grief, dementia and philosophical blogs (to name a few) and it is often very difficult to keep up. The good thing is that most bloggers understand this difficulty and don’t mind if you don’t read their every word/post – phew!

I would never go to a support group, I already have enough friends in my non-blog life, and I am not naturally gregarious, so I am rather astounded at how much I have come to depend on the bloggers with whom I have become close – an extraordinary community made up of some of the kindest people I have ever come across. I also enjoy offering my own friendship and support to these fellow bloggers and this has become a meaningful part of my life.

This blog has also connected me better to my already-there friends and family, sometimes disconcertingly. For example, I said to my friend the other day, “Guess what happened yesterday?” and she said, “I already know, Jules – I read your blog.”

Oh!

So, in the spirit of miscellaneous gratitude, here is Diamond, our shyest goose….

…. saying thank you with me!

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

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The ‘old girl’

by jmgoyder

Ming does most of the phone jobs now – mostly because he loves the phone and I hate the phone. Even before our landline became obselete, and my mobile wouldn’t work inside the house, and numerous other phone problems, I didn’t like picking up this thing and not knowing who I would be talking to. I guess you could say I have a bit of a phone phobia.

But Ming loves it and is exactly like Anthony used to be on the phone – loud, charming, ocker, matey and cheeky. I overheard Ming on his mobile today, asking the bank to alter a couple of things so we could pay bills more easily online. Then I heard him say to whoever he was talking to: “Ha, yeah well I’m just trying to sort a few things out for the old girl.”

Come to think of it, I’ve heard him describe me this way a few times now, but only on the phone for some reason. Hell, I am only 55!

Family Friendship

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A very quiet house

by jmgoyder

As many of you already know, Ming lives in an old shed we began to renovate for him years ago (before Anthony went into the nursing home). It has been a very long process but also very exciting. Once it was finally finished, with a new paint job, lino on the floor, windows put in, electricity connected and his bed moved out there (around six months ago) he began to sleep out there regularly. But it wasn’t until recently that he moved all of his stuff out of his old bedroom (in the house) to the shed. Then, two days ago, he moved our old refrigerator in there too so he now has that and a microwave, so he can be (sort of) self-sufficient when it comes to meals.

Ah, meals, yes – a contentious issue for Ming and me. You see he has always been extremely fussy with food. No, let me rephrase that; he has always been extremely FUSSY with food! Let me exemplify. As a newborn, he wouldn’t breastfeed or take a bottle without our coercion (Anthony’s confidence that he’d had this problem with calves, and he could fix it, was unfounded and Ming actually lost some of his scrawny birth weight in his first month of life). He simply wasn’t interested in any sort of sustenance full stop. That first summer of his life I had to actually syringe water/milk/custard/mashed banana into his sweet, rebellious little pursed lips. It was an absolute nightmare.

Long story short, he survived on the bare minimum for years. During toddler years it was crackers and orange juice and sometimes butter, but nothing else. Eventually I took him to a naturopath who did some magic and he got a bit of an appetite but he is still (at 20) one of the most unhungry people I have ever come across. He just doesn’t seem to have a normal appetite reflex thingy – a weird anorexia? Mostly, he doesn’t think to eat, meals are haphazard and then suddenly he will eat four steaks in five minutes.

Needless to say, Anthony and I gave up when he was a kid and just let him ‘graze’. And now that he isn’t a kid any more, he either rejects meals I prepare or says he isn’t hungry. So, a few weeks ago, Ming and I made a decision that has actually saved my sanity (and probably his). When it comes to food, he fends for himself. He buys and prepares his own food and I am not to interfere.

Well, since I don’t eat that much anyway, this has come as a bit of a relief. But it is so hard to let go of 20 years of trying to feed the brat and let him fend for himself.

But it’s so weird and so quiet now and it only hit me tonight. With Anthony now in the nursing home, and Ming in his shed, there is no need any more for me to buy, prepare or cook food for others, so there is no sound of something simmering on the stove or in the crockpot and, because there is nobody in the kitchen any more, the television is off, it is very quiet.

All those years ago, when I first met Anthony and his mother and family, this was the noisiest house I had ever entered – loud voices, radio blaring, eggs and bacon sizzling, kettle boiling, Aga thrumming, dairyhands eating, and big, boisterous Anthony yelling for more toast-and-marmalade please.

So now, with all of that fading into history, and Ants in the nursing home, and Ming in his shed, and food no longer being something any of us share any more, the house is deathly quiet and strange and a little bit unfamiliar.

Family Friendship Grief Happiness LOVE STORY Parkinson's disease

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“I have accepted my Parkinson’s.”

by jmgoyder

Today I met one of the Anglican priests from my mother’s church (well, it’s my church too but I hardly ever go), because I had asked her to pray for me and my pompholyx and for Ants too. She is a beautiful person about my age who came out to the farm a few days after Ming’s car accident and prayed for us and for the whole family, and her name is Sarah.

We met in the parking lot of the nursing home at 1.30pm which was, coincidentally, the same time my mother was planning to meet me to visit Ants. I would have gone into the nursing home with Sarah but unfortunately, after showing her my hands, I burst into tears so had to ring my ma and say Sarah and I would do the praying thing outside and come into the nursing home presently.

So Sarah and I found a seat outside and she prayed and anointed my hands and blessed me while my nose dribbled as I stopped crying. Neither of us had a tissue so I had to wipe my nose on my shirt before we joined my ma and Ants.

They were sitting outside in a little garden area and, after the introductions and greetings, not knowing how much time Sarah had, I got straight to the point.

Me: “Ants, remember how Sister R. used to come over and anoint you with her holy oil?” (Sister R. is a Catholic nun who has been our friend for decades and, despite Anthony not being the least bit religiously inclined, he used to love this).

Ants: “Yes.”

Me: “Well Sarah can do that now.”

Sarah: “Do you want me to, Anthony?”

Anthony: “Mmmm.”

Me: “Yes.”

So Sarah prayed for Ants and anointed him and then we all sat back and had a conversation.

We talked a lot about life, the accident, our kids (Sarah has a daughter nearly the same age as Ming), my mother’s unfortunate collision with a glass door the other day, and my hands. Then Sarah asked Anthony various questions – about his childhood, his siblings, Ming and so on – that elicited answers. I admired her skill at drawing him out because his conversational skills are now very hesitant. Sarah was also very good at waiting silently for his response – fantastic!

Then, in answer to a question about something entirely different, Ants suddenly said this: “I have accepted my Parkinson’s and I still have the power to swear at people I don’t like.”

Oh how much I love this man!

Thank you, Anthony.
Thank you, Mother.
Thank you, Sarah.
Thank you, God (but only if you heal my hands and foot).

On the other hand, maybe I will have to accept my Pompholyx, just as Anthony has accepted his Parkinson’s disease.

Family Friendship Grief Happiness LOVE STORY Parkinson's disease

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Things that go bump in the night

by jmgoyder

You know the other night when Ming and I had that argument and he fled from my wrath to his shed? Well, the argument was about the fact that even though he moved into his shed months ago, he still hadn’t cleared a lot of his stuff out of his bedroom in the house. I had been extreeeeeeeemely patient about his procrastination until that night, when I snapped, the reason being that this bedroom was to become my new office so that I can get out of this little back veranda hovel that the mice like to invade (they like paper).

After Ming stomped off to his shed, muttering things like “You always make me feel so bad”, and me shouting, “Just clear your stuff out tomorrow or I will chuck it all out the front door!” he and I reconciled via texts and he promised to do the job the next day.

Well he kept his promise because at exactly midnight I was awoken by some very noisy activity in his ex-bedroom (which is adjacent to mine). I lay there grinning like a hyena listening to what I realized was Ming moving his stuff out of that room. This went on for about an hour and then all was quiet again, I tiptoed into the next room to find it totally empty! Elation! Then, on the hall table, Ming had left a long list of things he would do when the sun came up. I grinned again and went back to bed.

It wasn’t until after breakfast, that I discovered that he had simply moved all of his stuff into the living room! But it’s okay now – all of it is in his shed which now resembles the chaos of a crime scene (what happened to my neat and tidy boy?)

But my room is ready for me now and I am so excited! It is a room with lots of history because it used to be Anthony’s mother’s room, then it was the office where I wrote my PhD, then it was Ming’s childhood bedroom. We have now taken the huge musk-pink carpet mat out (over 40 years old) to reveal the beautiful jarrah floorboards, and Ming has vacuumed from corner to corner and cleaned the windows inside and out, and we have arranged for a handyman to fix the cracks and holes in the wall and ceiling. Then we will get my painter friend in to paint it crimson (just joking – white!)

It is a big, light-filled room with a view to the front paddock from the north-facing windows. That’s where I will put my desk, computer etc. tomorrow!

The interesting thing about this little adventure is that, for me, it feels like I will have my own beautiful space in this house for the first time in 20 years. It’s not that I felt deprived but, having married an older man and moved into an already established household, I have never quite felt a sense of ownership and, in terms of making any sort of mark, I have done very little in the way of interior decorating, renovating or changing anything – so much so that when Anthony’s relatives drop in they feel they have stepped back in time!

I have decided to call this old/new room my writing room. A new beginning. It will be wonderful to move out of the hovel of an office I am in now where things go bump in the night constantly, especially in the ceiling where rodents, goannas and possibly snakes have sprinting competitions.

Ah, the joy of change!

Animal blogging Family Friendship Happiness LOVE STORY Wings

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The peachicks have chosen a new bedtime tree

by jmgoyder

Queenie’s chicks have become incredibly assertive. They take the food out of her mouth, fly at her aggressively if she is in the wheat bowl, and now they even choose the bedtime tree. Last night they decided to move to another tree while poor Queenie waited in the original bedtime tree. These two peachicks are absolute brats!