jmgoyder

wings and things

False frivolity

I just wrote a rather frivolous post about my teenage son nagging me but the frivolity was false.

He is behaving badly but is too old to put in the naughty corner (we never had one of those).

I never expected to be tongue-lashed, hen-pecked, reprimanded and nagged by my own son!

How can the same boy be both muse and monster?

He hugs me then spits venom then disintegrates into guilt, then hugs me again.

I want to say to him cruel things – I want to say he is an ungrateful wretch.

An ailing father is no excuse. I have already given Ming too many doubt benefits.

My angel child needs his wings fixed or a punch in the nose.

Teenager, normal, okay.

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A haiku-ish poem

These small fingernails
Whisper up and down the spine
Of an opened book

Are you rose or weed?
Or are you an applecore
Filled with arsenic?

I don’t do poems
I can’t seem to write poems
This is a poem

Yesterday is grey
And tomorrow is today
There is a blue wind

A baby crying
The howl of a wolfling
Until the huge smile

The grass seems greener
Just outside my sunglasses
And a glass of red

Peachick near my heart,
Son away for his birthday,
Husband not here now

There are a few hells
And ours is extremely small –
A rotten peanut

Why? is a mute word
Are my sunflowers growing yet?
I didn’t plant them

A string of haiku
All of the syllables perfect
Full of emptiness

Until the storm blows
A big hole in the window
And now I can breathe

We have wings of steel
Lost and found in the debris
Of a blossom rain.

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Delusions

Last night, I received a phonecall from the nursing lodge. It was around 8.30pm and the nurse said Anthony had been very difficult and delusional and she asked me to talk to him.

On the phone he sounded confused, mumbly and paranoid, and when I tried to reassure him that he was in safe hands he got angry with me and asked me why I wasn’t on his side.

Apparently he had refused to get up or to be helped from the dining room to his bedroom and when the nurses attempted to use the hoist he freaked out a bit. He is scared of the hoist and seems to think it is a form of torture.

Another phase begins.

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When the carer gets sick

Even though Anthony is now being cared for in the nursing lodge, and I am no longer physically exhausted, the emotional exhaustion has been a force to reckoned with and I seem to be susceptible to any flubug doing the rounds. I just rang and asked the head nurse if I could visit today but she said no because of my flu – understandable. But I haven’t seen Ants for 3 days now and he is as forlorn as I am about this.

The first time I succumbed badly to a flu was a few years ago when Ants was still at home, Ming was still at school and I was still working. That was the beginning of the end of the way we were. I ended up in intensive care, with very bad asthma and exhausted. I had to take leave from work, we got more home nursing help and Ming began to take over some of the night shifts looking after Ants – toiletting, turning him over etc.

It soon became obvious that I would not be able to go back to work in my usual capacity because I couldn’t leave Ants alone. On several occasions I would come back from dropping Ming off at the busstop, or from the local shop, to find Anthony had fallen.

My job allowed me to continue to teach online and I threw myself into this with gusto but the night shifts continued to take their toll and I got sick again, and again.

It’s just flu and no big deal but I wonder why and how I could still be so fatigued when I am no longer working, no longer up all night and when I feel so positive. The only thing I can put it down to is a slowly breaking heart.

I know exactly how to remedy this because I have decided that this year will be full of laughter no matter what.

Carers get sick too and this is the trouble. So if you are a carer, look after yourself. I always hated it when people said this to me but now I understand.

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The best gift

Just before Christmas, Ming had an idea for my presents and we went to a bookstore where he asked me to pick out a bunch of books I wanted and then he would pick three while I went outside the shop. He explained that this would mean I would still get a surprise. So I gleefully picked out six books and left the shop.

So on Christmas morning, I opened the first of my three presents, knowing that it would be a book. But it was two books! And each of the presents contained two books, so Ming had bought me all six and that was the surprise. My delight was contagious and he laughed, saying that he’d been worried that I would choose more and he would have to buy all of them when he didn’t have that much money. He wrote a message in each of the books and some of these were funny, some loving, all illegibly beautiful!

Then he said he had another present and told me that he wanted to spend his remaining savings on a holiday for me at a resort north of here – a whole week! I said no way but I would take 3 nights and he made me shake hands. “You can be all by yourself, Mum, without me and Dad and everything, and you can write and chill out. I’ll look after the birds and dogs and you can just relax.”

Tonight – on this first evening of the new year – he turned his consul off and asked me to come into the living room for a talk. I joined him and we had a long, philosophical discussion in which he said, “I just want us to talk to each other more, Mum, get reconnected, so we both don’t get all sad again.” At that moment, I looked out the front window to see the redgum that Ming bought me three years ago flowering for the first time ever. He noticed it too and we exchanged a smile. “Happy New Year, kid,” I said.

The best gift: Ming.

Thank you, Anthony.

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Happy New Year!

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Last night I was feeling really low with my flu, the hot weather and a smidgen of rage against a couple of people who have hurt Anthony over the years but especially recently. I had planned to write about this today until I read these two wonderful posts by fellow bloggers:

One Heart at a Time


http://eof737.wordpress.com/2012/12/29/reflections-keep-the-faith/#comment-33855

In reading both of these posts, I realized that to write about such negative stuff is absolutely pointless and probably extremely boring.

So instead, on this broiling New Year’s Eve, I will show you Gutsy9, the baby peacock who spends most of the day on my shoulder. He is now 3 weeks old and getting too big to hide inside my shirt. His tail feathers are growing and his crown has begun to sprout. He can fly across the room or the back yard with ease. I love him.

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Hellishly hot

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This is our sixth day of 40C degree heat and incredibly high humidity and I have somehow contracted the flu. Ming (on L plates) took me in to the doctor who has put me on antibiotics and cortisone so I am ecstatic to have something to fight the kind of flu that usually leads to asthma and hospital. Then we went to see Ants but I stayed at a slight distance because I don’t want him to get it. I sat on his bed and held his hand in an outstretched way, trying to breathe my germs in the other direction and we only stayed a short time. Ants kept telling me to go home and get well, and that I was beautiful; he said both of these things a few times!

Oh it’s too hot to write any more! The photo is of Ants with some of my family at our Christmas dinner the other evening.

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From the sublime to the ridiculous!

Yesterday I blogged about two rather serious things – one happy and one sad. Today, I feel like a bit of humour so I will tell you about something that happened just before Christmas.

The phone rang and I told Ming to take a message and, after a strangely long conversation with someone who was obviously unknown to Ming, he made a few notes, said goodbye and then came to tell me who it was.

“Mum, that was an old friend of Dad’s and she wants to come down from Perth with another old friend of Dad’s. They’ve heard he is in the nursing lodge and they want to see him.”

“Oh, that’s fantastic”, I said. “What are their names?”

When Ming told me I got the giggles. “Those are two of his ex-girlfriends, Ming!”

Ming was suitably shocked and wondered why I was giggling.

“It’s okay, they were well before my time. I’ve heard other people talk about them over the years but these two women would be around Dad’s age.”

“So you don’t mind?” Ming asked. “Aren’t you jealous?”

“No! How can I be jealous of girlfriends Anthony had when I was in kindergarten?”

So we will soon be visited by the exes – how interesting!

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Anthony wept on the phone

There was a particular person who didn’t ring Anthony on Christmas Day – a decades-long ritual broken.

Ants was here for the whole day.

After he’d been taxied back to the nursing lodge I rang several times and each time Ants was sad about this and, during the last phonecall, he wept.

Broken.

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A thank you to my family

Yesterday afternoon Ming and I arrived at my mother’s place for our annual family Christmas get-together, having been picked up by my sister-in-law and her twins who wanted to see Gutsy9. The house was buzzing with kids, adults, food preparation, champagne and my mother’s incredible efforts to make it a perfect event. We were missing a few people: my other sister-in-law who is in the Solomon’s, my eldest niece and her fiance, in Scotland, and a nephew who was needed elsewhere, but we were still a crowd. One nephew is married so his beautiful wife was there, and another nephew brought his girlfriend who nobody had met before. Then Anthony arrived in the wheelchair taxi so we numbered 17 in a relatively small house. And it was very, very hot.

The meal was magnificent – turkey, cranberry, ham, salads, beets, chicken, roast potatoes, broccoli etc. Some ate inside in the airconditioning and some of us ate outside on the patio. As Ants was in a wheelchair it was easier to stay outside. He’d arrived at 5.30pm and I’d ordered the taxi to pick him up at 7.30pm but by 6.30pm he was beginning to falter so I got Ming to ring the taxi to come at 7pm. But when it arrived Anthony had picked up a little so my emotions mangled up and I could feel the tears coming as I began to wheel him towards the driveway down to the road. One of my brothers instantly took over and wheeled Ants down while my other brother hugged me as I sobbed. Thankfully most of the family were inside eating and didn’t witness this little drama but my three little nieces ran out to say goodbye to Ants as he was hoisted into the taxi. They put their arms around me and held my hands as I tried to stop crying.

I did stop of course, with a rather impatient taxi driver reminding us that we needed to pay the fare so the search for my wallet and money shocked my tears away for a bit. Once that was done, I kissed Ants goodbye and waved him off, my eyes filling with tears again. The nieces went back into the house and my brother got me a beer and I sat outside on the patio with him, trying to normalize myself. A little later my mother came out by which time I was okay again and feeling a bit silly for my heartsleeve behaviour.

But I did it! I got Ants there and he saw the throng of family that love him so much and he had a good time surrounded by the buzz. I don’t think I have ever felt so grateful for my family as I did last night. My mother and my brothers are legends, the partners and children are magic, and, when I rang Anthony this morning, he was happy and remembered the evening.

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