Christmas Without Mum

Mum and I were never close.  For many years of my adult life she lived a long way away.  I often saw her a few times a year.  When she was in Onslow it was probably less.  Mum mellowed in her later years and so did I.  Mum enjoyed the puzzles in 'That's Life' magazine which I bought for her religiously each week.  I often read the magazine first.  It was full of ghastly, horrific stories from readers with tales to tell.  I asked her if she read the stories and in her final months I don't think she bothered with the puzzles.
It's always in hindsight when we realised her health had been declining for sometime. I knew she was rapidly losing weight and her energy and enthusiasm with it.
Mum passed away in May this year.  It is our first Christmas without her.  We have had many family Christmas celebrations over the years, especially in Mandurah where both my sisters lived for sometime.  Mum would come to stay with them if she was living elsewhere.  In the last six years we celebrated Christmas with Mum.  Mum came to stay for a few days Christmas 2009 and the following year she moved to a nearby suburb.  Mum fell and broke her hip soon after her 80th birthday and entered a residential care unit.
Mum and whoever was free for Christmas came to my house and I cooked turkey and vegetables for dinner.  I always had a store bought plum pudding and another dessert.  We always had too much to eat and I would make Mum a ham and pickle sandwich for her to eat for her tea after she arrived at her home.
This year I missed not only our regular Monday visits but the banter between us about our Christmas Day menu.  Though there was little point in asking what she wanted as Mum always requested a fruit mince pie for morning tea and a sample of anything else available.  I always sought out the most moreish fruit mince pies, sampling one long before I purchased a dozen for Christmas day.  A treasured fruit mince pie would bring a sparkle to her eyes!
This year I missed our banter about what we would have for Christmas morning tea (of course, a fruit mince pie!).  I missed discussing the lunch and dessert menu (same as usual please).  The last few years Mum would have a rest after her big lunch and fall asleep quite happily on the lounge, no matter which movie was playing!
Lunch was always the same no matter how hot it was.  I prayed fervently for cooler weather but we were inundated with over 35 degrees Christmases, year after year!  Lunch was cooked turkey (usually a turkey roll), roast potatoes and pumpkin and stacks of steamed vegetables.  Yummy.  We covered ours with gravy but not Mum.  Then there was a glass of dry white wine.  Mum would take a sip or two and leave the rest.  She never said she didn't want wine so we just served it anyway!
Our table had the usual Christmas tablecloths and decorations.  We always had red and green bon-bons.  Mum was always intrigued by the miniature trinkets inside and took hers home.  We wore paper hats from the bon-bons, shared the terrible jokes, laughed and chatted throughout.
Vicki visited a few times for Christmas which often left me in a pickle.  I had to pick up Vicki and Mum basically at the same time.  Dustin often came to my rescue picking up Vicki or I would do two trips. Only once did I forget to turn on the oven and rang home while driving to give Mel direct instructions.  The turkey was later triumphant.
Mum was a silent support for Merv.  When we visited her she would always talked to him and gave him a kiss on the cheek as we left.  She just accepted him as he was.  Just one step down the ladder at a time.
After Mum died and Christmas thoughts began later in the year I suggested to the kids we have a Christmas picnic. No cooking, no hot veggies, just picnic food!
Vicki now needs to travel in a Maxi taxi with a carer making a Christmas Day visit far too difficult for everyone. Therefore she and her amazing young carer visited us a few days ago to celebrate Christmas and enjoy a cooked Christmas lunch.  Yes with the bon-bons and presents.   We had a lovely time.
My younger sister invited us to Christmas lunch at her house with her lovely family.  We cancelled our picnic and we are looking forward to spending the day a fabulous day together. 

Mum I will miss you on Christmas Day.

My Mum last Christmas at my house

Pocket Rocket

Only a month or so ago I had a little dream of selling our house next Spring.  With Merv injuring himself and his HD creating further decline my little dream is now a nightmare with a sale six month earlier.  I have a plan.  I always have a plan.
Part of my tailored plan was to hire a painter to paint my neglected fascias (the metal under the gutters).  I can see Mr Painter perched cheerfully on his ladder wearing his old white stained overalls, cap on his head and rag hanging out of his back pocket.  He whistles as he slaps the classic cream paint on my nicely prepped fascias.   Hmm, a nice day dream.
Yesterday in the heat of the day I went outside and spent a minute or two checking out my slightly rusted, pink mottled fascias.  Yep, a trip to Bunnings, a half hour how to do instruction from a fresh faced sales assistant and my scruffy cheerful painter is replaced by, wait for it, yes, me.  I don't wear overalls but a baggy shirt and a pair of old trousers with my iPhone shoved in my pocket.  (always take my phone, if I trip I can ring someone, maybe).  I pretend I'm singing with butterflies flitting close by.  The truth is I'll be sloshing the old paint on while cursing the sun cooks me or the rain splutters upon me! 
Being a realist, at times, I figure I could do so many metres each day.  I know the preparation is the big job and the painting is just the icing on the top.  I will save at least 75% of the cost if not more.  I can do it.  I'm good with a ladder up to the roof line but I daren't go further.  My house, a relic of the 70's has two gablets.  Yes I looked that up on Google.  It's a baby sized gable.  The front gablet which is seen from the road was repainted once, probably fifteen years ago.  The other gablet hidden by a side fence has lived it's life without any maintenance.  It's a mess. 
My imagination does a double take.  I see myself on the top rung of my longest ladder with paint pot balancing gingerly.  Down comes the ladder with me next.  I hit the concrete laying very still. 
OK too much imagining.  I ring the professionals and happily they return my call and pay me a visit.  I shall live to see another day.
Newly painted fasicas - a DYI project, a goal and a dream to bring alive.

Side Gablet, needs an overhaul!

Front Gablet needs a paint job also

Loop de Loop

I have this damn list.  On Monday it was just fine.  I listed the housework.  I completed the list.  I do housework week in and week out, it's no big deal.  All done.  There wasn't much on the list to complete (in or around the house) on Tuesday through to Thursday but Friday through to Sunday is a whole different story.  It's only been two weeks since my amazing garden makeover with the help of my extended family.  Thank goodness for them.  Eight people all working together to transform my disastrous gardens to a magazine makeover. Thank you to my lovely family.
Back to the list; it included painting the gate (not done), spraying the weeds (yes, done this morning), preparing the shed and laundry doors for painting (began but no where near completion) and there were a few obscure things listed which I have chosen to forget.  Oh, one of them was to move the mulch from the front to the back but I'm waiting for the weeds to die first. 
I had hoped for an hour or more for a snooze this afternoon while watching a movie.  Its 37degrees Celsius today (98.6 F) in Perth.  After our cold start to Spring we have this super hot day followed by a week of cooler weather. 
I was up at 5am this morning.  After Merv's fall which injured his leg and curtailed his confidence I have found getting him up to go to the toilet at 5am is working well. No more wet beds.  I usually go back to bed in hope of further sleep but today I had this most crazy plan. 
A cup of tea followed by weed spraying while the day had just began.  There was no wind and spraying seemed a great idea.  Then I grabbed the super high ladder from the shed and armed with screwdriver, hammer and a box cutter I prised off the shade cloth remnants from the front pergola.  The shade cloth perished years ago leaving the hammered in staples, rusty nails and bits of annoying shade cloth scraps.  Hoping it's a good idea to replace the shade cloth this year to keep the house cooler I remove all the bits and scraps.  Will it keep down the quote to replace it? Probably not, but it looks so much better now.
As I'm only half awake I remind myself to remove the hammer from the top of the ladder and slide the blade back inside the box cutter before I move the ladder to the next spot.  I remember most of the time but I witnessed my flying hammer several times which fortunately missed both my head and my feet.  I even kept my balance on the ladder and didn't fall off while prising those rusty nails out of the pergola frame, ten feet above the ground.  As the sun grew hotter I had completed most of the prising and pulling with only a few metres left.  I convinced myself to give myself a much needed break. 
I watered my amazing garden and went to the shop for the paper and milk before getting Merv up for the day.  He's watching the cricket and I'm getting ready for Mel's birthday celebration tomorrow.
I check my house improvement list.  There's a whole heap of things which are partially finished and some which are put on hold.  I will roll them over for the next week.  They will still be there waiting!
Though I tried to have a snooze this afternoon I didn't even feel tired.  A knock on the door in the heat of the afternoon and there stood a young man wearing a Red Cross T-shirt.  Before offering a donation I offer him a large glass of cold water which he readily accepted.  He had no sunhat on and he said he had a rather large head.  I looked at his head and took the opportunity to offer him the sun cap I was wearing this morning.  It expands at the back.  He happily took it.  "Please keep it," I said.  I offered him $5 donation but he was after a commitment of $1 per day.  I shook my head, pity I couldn't just give him $5.
Oh. back to my library book.  It wasn't as compelling as the first novel.  I would go as far to say it edges on the side of a Barbara Cartland.  Oh dear but a little light reading is just what the doctor ordered!

Everyone helping to create a masterpiece

The front garden weeded, new plants added and mulched

The back garden received the same fabulous makeover

Petunia's added Spring colour

Word Runner

I enjoyed Mary Simses' novel, 'The Irresistible Blueberry Bakeshop & Cafe,' I read it twice.  I enjoyed it even more the second time around.  When parting with it at the local library I asked the librarian if Mary had written any other novels.  The librarian studied her computer, pondering over the titles on the screen.  Finally she announced Mary had just released another novel.  Without even asking she zapped my library card and I was on the wait list.  I was excited but to fill in time I selected a couple of novels from the trolley labelled, 'Returned recently by other readers.'  It is a bit of a lucky dip.  Sometimes you pick something fabulous but mostly you don't.
I took home, 'Lands Beyond the Sea', by Tamara McKinley.  It was based in the 18th century and basically its about the first fleet from England to Australia.  It's easy reading.  Interesting to know a little more about how it was for the first settlers and convicts.  Every Aussie kid learns at school, how everyone had scurvy due to lack of oranges and fruit.  We know how shamefully our convicts were transported shackled in the hull of the ship with rats, little food, rotting clothes.  Many died  before reaching Australia.  The novel goes into depth of the conflict between the indigenous (Aborigines) and the settlers. 
I check my emails and there it is.  My book, 'The Rules of Love and Grammar' by Mary Simses is sitting at my local library waiting for me but I am 250kms away from home.  Ok, make a mental note to pick up book when I return. I put the book out of my mind there is fun to be had on my respite fortnight and fun is what I will have.  I do.
After picking up Merv I stop off at the library leaving him in the car with the window down.  I know where to find my book awaiting important library card holder.  It is tucked into a special shelf with my name printed haphazardly on a bookmark.  I am pleased but then I look at the cover and sigh.  A long deep exasperating sigh.  There is a dirty big note on the cover.  It states, 'TWO WEEKS Loan only'.  I groan - 2 weeks?  I could do with four!  A book with a challenge.  I am good with a challenge.  I remember for a split second I walked across England last year.  That was a challenge.  Yes I'm good with a challenge.
I am gone less than three minutes.  Merv is still sitting in the car.  I breathe a sign of relief.  No one has man-napped him!
There are a whole lot of decisions to be made including do I finish Tamara's novel or do I hide it and delve into Mary's?  It's the whole challenge thing.  I will do the challenge.
Merv falls twice during the week resulting in a black eye, sore hip and left leg.  I have to walk him to the toilet and back and forth to the lounge.  No time to read at present.
I spend my time in bed before sleep reading as much as possible as my eyes grown heavy and I succumb to sleep. 
I finally finish the novel, all 397 pages.  There is an prologue of Tamara's next book, 'A Kingdom for the Brave.'  I wince but plod on.  Sleep has yet to call me this night.  I eventually throw the book down on the floor.  It is awful.  A whole tribe of Aborigines massacred by an evil band of army personnel and settlers bent on revenge and greed.  I felt sick. Definitely not reading that book!
I have spent a whole week finishing the Australian book.  I have only one week to read my new book. It has 367 pages, I read seven pages on day one, I have six days to go and I now have 324 pages to go.  I can't pretend I don't know when it's due back.  That 2 week loan only note on the front cover 
reminds me there is no way out,  just keep reading and reading and reading Pamela.  It's a challenge, you can do it!  Watch this space!

                                                         
  

No Caller ID stalker

My Mel, she has a good heart.  She signs her name on her text messages; 'Angel Melanie, love Melanie'.  It's the same for everyone.  Everyone takes it at face value.  Except for one.
Mel has a good friend who has Autism.  He works for a pittance during the day and once a week Mel and him meet to watch a movie or cook each other dinner.  It is a lovely friendship and that is all it is. He laughs readily and sees good in everyone.  Mel delights in his friendship. Her friend is not looking for a relationship and I doubt whether he is capable of having what most of us would term a 'normal' love interest. 
This friend with all good intentions gave Mel's number to his brother.  His brother like Mel has mental health issues. 
Mel told me about this and I listened.  It wasn't long before I realised this person was ringing her a number of times a day.  I began to feel concerned, but it wasn't until Mel came to stay for a week that I realised the extent of his presence. 
Mel had turned off her phone's volume which I found unlike her, she loves to receive calls.  Most of us do.  I was concerned she would not only miss my calls but calls from her beloved friends and family.  Most of all I was concerned about her obvious stress.
I soon saw a list of her recent calls and then I understood.  This person was ringing her every 15 minutes and continued to do so because she was not answering her phone.  Oh a stalker...
I  did the Mummy thing and discussed this with her before blocking his number.  It worked well to stop his disturbing text messages but he was ringing her phone using; No Caller ID. 
I bombarded Google to find a solution, but nothing which was suggested worked on her iPhone 5c. 
Then my head went into overdrive!  I thought I could answer her phone; shouting at him,
THIS IS THE POLICE, WE ARE WATCHING YOUR EVERY MOVE.  DO NOT RING MELANIE, DO NOT LEAVE HOME - YOU WILL BE PUT INTO A POLICE VAN NEVER TO BE SEEN AGAIN.
I wish I could have laughed, but I just scared myself.  Visions of me being carted off in a police paddy van filled my cranial spaces instead.  I shuddered at the thought of how this person's obsession with Mel was affecting the both of us.
Then I turned my thoughts to Telstra, the phone service provider.  I rang the next day on a Saturday afternoon when I thought no one would be manning the call centre.  A lady with a strong Asian accent answered the phone.  She listened to my concerns.  She wanted to wait 30 days and Mel to answer the phone for 3-5 seconds each time the stalker person rang.  NO WAY  I retorted.
"Do you want to change her number?" she asked.  I thought about the long list of people and professionals we would need to contact with her new phone number.  I thought about her automatic prepaid recharge which would have to be reset.  I asked Mel and she agreed.
That is what we did.  Mel has a new number and now her phone once again blares out Ed Sheeran's,  Thinking Out Loud ringtone when someone rings.
It is sad Mel has had a disturbing experience when it was with only good intentions of her autistic friend.  What is even sadder is the loss of this friend.  She knows if she gives her new number to him, his brother will probably bully him until he shares her number. 
That is what his brother is.  A bully.

Pink Glitter Slippers

The sun is shining through my bedroom window.  It's chilly outside, about 4 degrees Celsius but the light reflects on the sequins of my new pink glitter slippers.  I slide them on my size 6 feet and just for a second or two I feel like Dorothy from the Wizard of Oz, before I stomp to the kitchen to fix breakfast!
My little sister Maureen surprised me with my glitter slippers just over a week ago.  She said she laughed when she saw them displayed in the shop and went back and bought them for me.  She wrapped them lovingly in a décor box.  That was my Dorothy moment.  A tear formed in the corner of my eye blurring my vision.  A moment to forever remember.
I'm not really a glitter person but I love these slippers.  In my often drab life they bring a smile to my face.  I am mesmerised when the light plays and dances upon them making them sparkle.  They take on a life of their own.  I've even posted them on Facebook for my family and friends to marvel at (or scratch their heads and wonder about my sanity!)
Little sister stayed overnight recently when she wasn't well.  My glitter slippers were of no help to her.  I did what I know best; I tempted her with food. In our family when all else fails - feed the problem!
So I did.  I fed little sister, paracetamol, anti-histamine and anything (not meds) she felt like eating or drinking.  I made her mango chicken curry which she couldn't eat and cupcakes with icing and strawberries.  I offered her lemonade and icy poles.
What I really wanted was a magic wand which I could wave around like a mad woman and it would cure her ills and make her whole again.  Yes, a fairy tale, an instant miracle but life is not like that.
Fortunately Maureen is recovering with the help of her doctor.  It is a miracle itself what medical science has already achieved. 
Thank you little sister for my lovely glitter slippers, I'm so pleased you're recovering.

A Pearl of Wisdom

Mel and I visited her GP today to for a repeat prescription. Her regular GP was on holiday. We saw an Indian doctor instead. She appeared composed and spoke confidently without haste.

We briefly discussed Mel's grief. She asked how Mel was handling her grief and stated as all good people do that time is a great healer. We all know this. I turned off  my attention until she unexpectedly shared a pearl of wisdom. 

My ears pricked up, I was alert once more.

The doctor merely stated; when you receive bad news let it rest for a few days before acting on it.  How often do we react right away to negative situations? I know how easy it is to do. Emotions often rule our lives and dictate how others see us.

Oh the sweetness of control, wisdom and patience. Not that I could guarantee I have any of these attributes but maybe when the time arrives I might just remember the pearl of wisdom from this amazing doctor.

Sneaky Snickers

It was raining on Thursday.  It was chilly cold and so very horrid.  It was not a day for a walk in the park.  Mel and I went to the gym instead.  She did her hourly gym program complete with weird machines and weights while I pushed myself to complete 30 minutes on the treadmill watching last night's TV without the sound.  I finished before Mel and headed for the café to read the local newspaper.
I've added a bit of weight in the last few months and Spring is just around the corner.  I decided to weigh myself the following morning.  It wasn't my goal weight which I wanted but better than last month.
I later went shopping at Aldi before lunch.  Never a good time to shop but there I was thirty minutes from home in need of a couple of Aldi specials.
There was no parking near by so I grabbed some shopping bags and walked five minutes to the store.  Soon my list was crossed off and a number of other goodies unexpectedly jumped into my bag.  I can never figure that bit out.
By the time I queued up at the check out the chocolate bars were shouting at me.  I had a choice between some unknown chocolate roll stuffed with toffee (never good for my teeth) or a double sized Snickers bar.  I snatched the Snickers and wedged it among my goodies on the conveyer belt.
I threw my shopping in the boot of my car, everything that was except the Snickers bar.  It sat right next to me until I ripped off the top with my teeth and ate one of the two bars. Devoured in seconds before my key even made it to the ignition.
Ohhhh yummy I purred. 
Oh no, I later groaned (thinking of those calories and the scales)
I didn't want to go the gym later.  It was cold outside but I grudgingly pulled on my brand new gym leggings, hung my larnyard with gym card attached around my pulsating neck.   Another 30 minutes on the treadmill and I'm done and on the way home.  At least I'm no longer cold.
The next morning I pull out the scales.  I know its going to be bad, really bad.  I step gingerly on the scales.  I have lost 200 grams. 
WOW!  I exclaim.  I can lose weight eating Snickers.  It's going to be a good day.
By lunchtime I'm hungry (yes I had breakfast) and I eye off the other half of the Snickers bar.  I'm not going to the gym today as Merv is home.  I pour myself a wine and devour the other half of my hidden Snickers bar.  Oh I feel so naughty and nice!
The next day I feel terrible.  What have I done.  How did one (oversized) Snickers bar make me paranoid?  I deserve nothing good.  I close my eyes, step on my scales but I can't get excited.
Have I really lost another 200 grams? 
'Liar'  I say, 'No one loses weight eating a Snickers Bar.'  
I hide the scales.  I'm not going to weigh myself tomorrow because I'm all out of Snickers Bars.  I expect I've added a kilo or two or three....

Games for Young and Old

I arrived home after an eventful day and I took one look at the colourful plastic beetles on the table and reserved my judgement.  I wanted to scream at the young lady sitting next to Merv.  I wanted to tell her it's not appropriate for him to play with kiddie games. 
The colourful beetles had body bits (legs etc) to be added after throwing a certain number on the dice provided.  I shut my mouth and listened to the young lady looking after Merv prattle on about the colourful game they had bought.
I left those cute beetles on the table after she left and I busied myself making afternoon tea and a much needed caffeine fix for myself.
I thought a bit more about those cute little beetles.  If we had grandchildren, playing with kiddie beetles would be acceptable, actually it would be expected.  We don't have grandchildren but does that make it wrong or alright to play with kiddie beetles? 
Merv can no longer play the more complex games which we used to enjoy.  I understand the support workers get bored playing Merv's favourite games of dominoes and UNO at each and every visit.
Where do we draw the line to age appropriate games and activities?
Merv sometimes uses a clothing protector, an appropriate name for an adult.  In basic language it's an adult size bib.  Using the word, 'bib' for an adult is deemed inappropriate the same as calling adult incontinence pants, 'nappies.'   Yes, I hate that as well,  I couldn't call them nappies.
When I take Merv out anywhere there is his wheelchair, the bags, usually more than one and it reminds me of the times we took babies and later toddlers out.  There was a fold up pram and bags and more bags.  The pram is now a wheelchair but the rest is pretty much the same.
The question remains whether to allow the kiddie games or should we re-name the kiddie games with more adult appropriate names?

Beetles and bits

No Donation Today

It's quiet in the house, we have had a slow start to the day.  I like Saturday mornings.  Unless we have something booked I walk to the shop early to buy the weekend paper before waking Merv.  We have a long breakfast and read the paper.  Merv reads the TV guide and works out when his footy team is playing! 
This morning I had already put out the washing and washed the dishes (mental note to buy a new dishwasher this month to replace broken one).  There was a knock at the door.  I moved Merv's wheelchair out of the way and had my spiel already.  If the Mormons or Jehovah Witnesses are knocking - I'm too busy to talk, thank you.  If someone is after a donation I'm figuring if I have any loose change in my purse.  If its Red Cross, Vinnies or a well known charity hopefully they will receive a more generous donation!
I stop in my tracks, my caller is neither of the above.  She tells me she is on the way to the shops and called in to see me.  I can't remember the last time she did this.  I can't remember if she has ever visited me before!  My visitor is the mum of one of Mel's friend.  Her best friend in primary and high school but sadly they have lost touch.  Her mum still lives a ten minute walk from us.  She had one of her grandchildren with her.  A little boy of 20 months who was mostly well behaved during the visit.  I could tell she was alarmed at seeing Merv.  He is not the person he used to be since Huntington's Disease took over his life six years ago.  Merv just sat and listened but he said hello to the little boy when he turned his attention to him.  The toddler wasn't phased about the minimal response he received from Merv. 
I made coffee and delighted in the only face to face conversation I knew I would have today.  In reflection I wondered how many words we exchanged in the hour she visited.  Maybe a few thousand?  Merv will say between 20 - 50 words the whole day.
As she left with her grandchild she took the time to hug me.  I didn't really need a hug but I was grateful for it.  I was even more than grateful for the conversation.  Hopefully she might call again.

In Memory of Mum

Last year our family gathered in the heat of the summer for Dustin and Grace's wedding.  This year we once again gathered in the coolness of autumn to farewell our Mum. 
It was a bright day in May which began like any other but by day's end a shadow cast itself long and bleak upon us.  Our Mum had fought her last battle of which she was not strong enough to return.  Her life as we knew it was snatched away by cardiac arrest.  There was no time for us to converse with her and share a kiss before she went.  As we stood quietly by her bedside in the emergency department she was already unconscious and on her way to the other side.
A moment in time which changed our lives forever.
Mum was 86.  Her health was declining but she had lived a good life.  Mum's life wasn't an easy life but she made the best of what she had and was ingenious in achieving what others may think impossible.  Mum was a good role model and I strive to achieve where otherwise I may not pursued my project at hand.
My sisters and I rallied together to give Mum a send off which we believe she would have been happy with.  It gave us much comfort.  The rest of the family attended her farewell and we recounted our fondest memories.
Each Monday morning Merv and I would visit Mum in her nursing home and spend time chatting and exchanging stories.  I will miss our Monday get togethers.  Mum was always interested in how Mel was going.  Was she still losing weight?  Is she well?  Is she keeping busy? Mum would also ask about Dustin, Merv and myself.  Monday morning is coming soon.
Mum enjoyed coming to our house for a cooked lunch of her choice.  Once she asked for sausages and mash and other times it was beloved Shepherd's pie (mince and potato) or roast chicken with all the trimmings.  Mum visited for Christmas, Easter and Mother's Day.  I would pick her up after I had prepped the vegetables  and put the roast in the oven.  There were Hot Cross Buns for Easter and fruit mince pies at Christmas. After lunch Mum would get comfy on my recliner chair and begin to watch a movie of her choice.  Before long she would be fast asleep and I'd wake her a little further into the movie!  She never seemed to mind!
How will I manage now?  Yes, I know; just one day at a time.  It's going to take me a while before I stop thinking as if Mum is still with us.  She's been my Mum for over 58 years, it's difficult to think of her no longer here.

Renovation

The weather is so much cooler.  A little chilly in the morning now and I find myself huddling under the bed covers instead of  leaping out of bed for my hourly walk.  Today Merv is at the day centre and an early morning walk is definitely out of the question.  Instead I set off at 1pm and find I notice gardens I normally just trot by.  I make mental notes of the plants and whether they are growing well in my neighbourhood.  It wont be long before I'm digging and planting new specimens in my garden beds.  Some are doomed while hopefully others will flourish.  My once green thumb is a shade on the dark side!
This morning I went searching for the dreaded laundry sink/cabinet to replace the grubby rusty one in my 70's laundry.  My laundry is screaming out for a re-fit! 
My kitchen and bathroom has both gone under the hammer, gutted and renovated. The bathroom being our worst experience.  We had to move out for two weeks as we didn't have the use of a toilet or shower area.  Was it worth it?  Yes.
The laundry renovation - who will it affect?  Just the washing machine and the need for clean clothes.
This brings back memories of our early married years.  We had an old twin tub washer donated to us.  Vicki's neighbour had put it out on the verge and we were the 'lucky' recipients!   The washing part was fine.  It had a large swinging paddle which washed the clothes.  Then I had to take the clothes and put them in the spin dryer while adding rinse water.  Nothing was automatic then.  Before the twin tub I laboriously washed everything by hand including Dustin's nappies!  There were soaking nappies in buckets of Napi-San everywhere and my hands were as hard and rough as sandpaper!  I would smother them in Barrier Cream before squeezing my fingers into cotton gloves.  Eventually Dustin was potty trained and my hands recovered.
We bought our first automatic washing machine in 1978 from Boans for $300.  A lot of money back then.  It lasted almost 20 years and some days it spat out more than five loads of well washed clothing, towels and sheets. 
Unexpectedly it retired and we used Merv's mother's gigantic top loader which was left in our shed after she sold her house goods in one of our famous garage sales.  She moved into residential care at the time.  Her old machine was fabulous for doona's, blankets and large washes but it took a swimming pool of water for every wash!  Not long after it also had enough of our ongoing washing needs and spat the dummy!
Ten years ago we went to the Harvey Norman seconds store and bought our Electrolux front loader.  It still goes well even though it creaks and whines when it begins a cycle.  It's difficult to push a blanket into but we do anyway.  The kids have long ago flown the nest but I still wash often to keep Merv in clean clothes. 
I'm sure the laundry renovation won't take long, possibly a day, maybe less.  I want to spend a minimum amount with a trendy result.  It's all about getting a good price for the house next year when we put it up for sale.  Wish me luck!

The old Twin Tub Washer!

Mistaken Identity

Mother's Day looms this Sunday. Today is Friday and this morning after Merv was wheeled onto the community bus for his day centre I fiddle around for awhile before I headed off for the liquor store.  Our Mother's Day lunch is at an old fashioned Chinese restaurant.  Nothing there has changed for twenty years but we go back time and time again!  At least the food is reliable.  It is also BYO.  This morning I purchase enough wine at the liquor store to satisfy a small army.  Dustin likes sweet Moscato, Mum enjoys dry white.  I pick some up for myself to keep me going and join the store club.  More time wasted.  I fiddle some more at a shop I had planned to make some purchases but  in the end I don't purchase anything.  Nothing worth buying today.  Then I am home and getting ready for the gym.  There won't be much chance of a work out over the weekend.  Sunday promises to be busy.
My favourite machines are free at the gym and I take advantage of the Tread Climber and a variety of other machines.  Then I'm ready to leave.  As I depart a woman shorter than myself (who is shorter than me?) says hello and says she hasn't seen me for ages. 
I am looking at her with no recognition.  Did she lose 50kgs and therefore she is unrecognisable?  I recognise her voice but I still can't place her.  I wonder if it's mistaken identity.  Maybe I do look so much older than I am.  The seniors group has just departed.  They look soooo old.  It will be a long, long time before I join their group!
Her voice haunts me for awhile but my brain is in overdrive and I soon push it to one side.  Time to get the day sorted. 
Mother's Day will be a regular taxi driving day.  Yes, I am the taxi driver!  Dustin and Grace will be visiting Merv's sister in the morning.  I am pleased that they are.  I will have Merv, Mel and Mum in my car for the trip to and from the restaurant but I already have it all sorted.
This year I'm also doing something different.  My daughter Mel at 36 is not a mother and neither is my daughter in law, Grace at 30.  I want to recognise them as loving people because that is the role of a mother.
Mel took me to the movies yesterday to see the new Mother's Day movie with Jennifer Aniston and Julia Roberts.  It was a chic flick but I enjoyed it immensely.  When the son had an asthma attack and his mum rushed off to the hospital to be with him (you'll have to see the film to know why they weren't together initially) I cried.  It brought back so many memories of Mel and her chronic asthma attacks.  Twice she was in ICU.  Once we almost lost her.  She asthma is much better controlled now.
Mother's Day brings back memories of small children waking me in the morning with tea and toast (burnt or underdone but always appreciated).  I remember as the children grew we had Mother's Day breakfasts or café style lunches followed by wine and chocolate later in the day.
Now I am a Mother to Mel.  She still requires a lot of mothering.  Dustin now married is free of my reins and mothering is no longer on his agenda.  Hopefully there maybe Grandchildren in the future!
Mother's Day is celebrated on different days/months in different parts of the world, but wherever you live I wish all Mums a very 'Happy Mother's Day.'

Book Club Folds

I had been so excited to join a group of mainly older women for book club at the quaint café each month on a Thursday.  My very first book club was cancelled due to a power outage.  It was rescheduled for the following week which I attended.  Being new at a cosy group is always a little intimidating but I thought all went well.  The next month it was cancelled due to most of the group not reading the book.  This month I was told by the café owner; "Come storms, high water or whatever, we will have book club, even if it's just the two of us."  Then she cancelled. Her neighbour had passed away and she needed to attend her funeral on that day.  Of course I understand.  Then she decided a seasoned book clubber should hold the group in her own home.  Then it was all downhill from there.  The person in question decided it was not for them and suggested the club fold.  It did. I can't say I was devastated as I was only a newcomer.   I had read the book for the month by John Marsden, 'South of Darkness.'

I told myself at least I read books I wouldn't normally chose myself.  Not all was lost.  This month I had already booked Merv's support worker for the extra two hours of the respite shift.  I was loathe to give it up.
Then I remembered I had met up with an old friend a week or two ago and showed interest in viewing her recent photos of Japan and Italy.  I messaged her and arranged to meet her at her house at the time I would otherwise had attended the book club.

What followed was wonderful.  We caught up with news and revisited memories we had long ago shared.  She gave me updates on her children and I sat in awe at her magical photos of Japan and the ancient trees heavy with cherry blossoms.  They were magnificent.  My friend had gone to spend time with her daughter who travels all over the world dancing.  She now lives in the US and works there and abroad.  Mothers and daughters share an amazing bond. 
I had just spent the better part of the day with Mel.  She told me she had a wonderful day and I agreed with her. Sure we had shopped, walked and talked but just being together brings its own magic.

I love photos but before I knew it I was checking my watch.  I had to hurry home to relieve the support worker of her duties.  The time with my friend had stretched to over two hours and we hadn't yet finished seeing all of her amazing photos of beautiful Italy.  We exchanged stories of this most intriguing country.

I hope I have the opportunity to spend more time with friends.  It means so much to be with friends and share and talk together.

As for book club.  Will I join another I ask myself?  Maybe not for awhile.  I may just chose what I would like to read until then.

White Cherry Blossoms in Tokyo, Japan  

The Pull

"It's the pull", he said. 
"The pool?"  I replied. 
"Yes Mum, it's the pull," he repeated.
"What are you on about?"  I questioned.
"Sex, Mum!" he announced. 
"In the pool?"  I questioned with distaste.

"No Mum,  PULL not pool."

"Oh" I said, "The pull, what does that mean?  I am totally lost here."
He goes onto explain the obvious.  When a couple have sex their relationship will often continue even if they have little in common.  Hmmm, yes we all know that.  What I didn't know is that it's called; The Pull!
Well that makes sense, I say.  Mel's engagement has been called off but she remains with Damien.  They do have quite a lot in common but she finds his moods difficult to deal with.  He is self centred and never gives her presents but she stays with him.
Hmm, Dustin reminds me, "It's the pull!" 
I laugh, he is right. We stay in relationships which may not be the best for us and accept bad behaviour from a partner.
What can I do?  As always I will just be there when she needs me whether its to talk or pick her up and take her home.
As long as she is safe, that is my one concern.
I laugh, it's the pull.  I better remember that!

Days of Our Lives

Only a month ago I shared with you my daughter's delight in her engagement.  It has been a fiery month.  It took no time at all from where I was standing to know the young man in question (who isn't so young) had no intention of wanting to make changes in his life.
Mel was looking through rose coloured glasses as young women do (she's not so young either).  I don't know what she could see but it certainly wasn't what I was seeing!
Only a few weeks later on Valentine's Day he shared that he was made a ward of the state at two years of age.  He had been passed around like baggage from one foster family to another.  I'm sure I wouldn't have done well either.  I wondered if anyone had taught him to give.  Giving is good for the soul.  The more you give the more you receive.  Of course if you give to receive that doesn't really work!  It comes from the pleasure of giving.  The not so young man in question delighted in receiving but had no idea of giving or its pleasure.
I felt for Mel when he didn't give her a Christmas present until a week afterwards.  I knew there would be no Valentines present and she hadn't bothered to buy him one.  The rot was already beginning.
Only last week she rang him and said the stress of being engaged was too much for her.  She needed a break for a month.  He retorted it was over and never wanted to see her again.  Days of Our Lives (TV serial) began.
The following week she was back with him.  Mel said they were no longer engaged, just going out together.  She was quiet.  He was still angry.
Only last night he rang her and gave her an ultimatum.  She had to choose between him or her Mum (me!)  I was receiving a running commentary of messages from her soon after.  She said she called him a 'bastard' and said she would choose her Mum anytime.  I wondered if I scored 'brownie' points because I didn't judge her when they got back together.  I wondered if she looked at all that we have gone through together and how we give to one another.  I wondered if she looked at him and saw nothing.  At least nothing worthwhile.
I do know I will be there for her as always.  I wont dissect the whole affair or discuss with her until she starts the conversation first. Why rub salt into already weeping wounds?
Will I be surprised if he changes his mind and scrubs the ultimatum?  No.
What do I really want for her?  I just want her to be happy and satisfied with her life.
Yesterday we celebrated another weight loss milestone.  The goal was 75kgs and she weighed in at 74.9kgs!  Only 9.9kgs before she buy her ticket to Paris.
Remember Mel whatever happens,  we will be there for you.

Mel yesterday at 74.9kgs

Engagement

Some days are more memorable than others.  There are always reasons why.  On January the 12th I remembered as I do every year that Mervs mother Audrey would have celebrated her birthday if she was alive.  I remember her well.  She was difficult.  Not a mother in law that anyone would like to have.  She became less arrogant as she aged and was often dependent on others instead of fiercely independent.  Before she died she allowed me to bring her to the Lord.  Some people wait until such a time.
I knew she had gone before the hospital rang.  It was early on a cold winters morning as a light blazed through our bedroom window and the sound of a train thundered.  I said to myself she had gone.  I just knew.  I put on the kettle and waited for the call which came fifteen minutes later.
Audrey donated her body to science and therefore there was no structured funeral.  Merv, the children and myself held a memorial for her in a local park and then went to the river to throw in rose buds.  When I turned to look at the car I saw Audrey standing there in her red jacket. She had been in a wheelchair for sometime and I hadn't expected to ever see her stand again.  Her vision faded as we approached the car. Six months later on the 12th January 2005 I picked up her watch which I had kept and noticed it had stopped.  I wore another watch and a couple of days later I picked it up and put it in my handbag before it handing it over to the watchmaker.  He asked me what was wrong with it.  I looked for the first time in days at the watch, it was working perfectly.  Audrey was just reminding us to remember her on her birthday.  I haven't heard from her since.
This year as always I thought of her on her birthday.  In the afternoon, just an ordinary afternoon Mel rang and told me she is engaged.  Damien had proposed to her at her friend's house and of course she had been thrilled and said yes.  As for me, shock was my only response!  I hadn't expected that quite so soon.  They have been dating only six months.
I smiled to myself, Mel was always a favourite with Audrey.  Now I will remember Audrey's birthday  and Mel's engagement on January 12th each year!

I know Damien cares for Mel.  I have seen it with my own eyes.  It is lovely to behold.  Just like Mel he has a number of issues, many need a little tweaking.  Tweaking is good.  Solutions we may never quite achieve but helping the happy couple achieve a happy life together by a little tweaking is worth the effort.  Stay tuned....

The Happy Couple

Where Are You?

The day ahead threatens to be very hot but the early morning delighted me with a cool soft breeze.  I sent Mel a message saying its a great time of day to go for her hourly walk.  It was 6:30am.  I received no answer.  I knew she had been up late as she posted a Colorfy picture on Facebook at 10:30 last night.
I messaged her again before I rang.  No answer.  She must be really tired I thought.  I rang at least ten times before 9am without any response.  I began to worry; that is what mothers do really well!
Just after 9 I rang the support worker at her accommodation only to find she had returned to her boyfriend's house yesterday evening.  He lives in a town house where the bedroom is upstairs and she leaves her phone downstairs.  The mystery solved. 
I waited for her to wake and ring.  I waited and I waited some more.  Last time she was at her boyfriend's house I rang her neighbour because I couldn't reach Mel.  I woke the neighbour up (it was after 10am!).  I decided not to do that again.
I remember my older sister remarking on a time many years ago when her daughter was staying with her at a caravan park.  Her daughter had gone to the ablution block and was gone what seemed an extremely long time.  My sister became worried.  It turned out the daughter engaged in a long conversation with another guest and thought nothing of her mother's concern.  My sister said it was her expectation of where her daughter should be which concerned her.  If her daughter had not been with her there would have been no concern. 
It is like that with Mel and me.  Mel is not your average daughter she needs some looking after and positive direction.  Countless times she has got herself into a vulnerable situation.  Normally she makes informed decisions but sometimes she doesn't. 
I asked her just to let me know in future every time she will be away from home and where she is staying.  Her safety and well being are my main concerns. 
I asked her if she was alright and she confirmed she was.  There had been a lover's tiff between them yesterday.  Surely a mother can be concerned?

Staying away from home