the things we’ve handed down
It was always the same whether by phone or in person. “Hello darling”.
The voice lifted at the end making it almost a question, or was it the expectation of this little time together. What will we get up to today? Perhaps it was saying ‘I don’t really mind what we do, we’re together and while we are it will be good, and at the moment I don’t really want to be anywhere else’. A declaration of the ‘now’, a declaration of happiness.
Since Mum started to seriously deteriorate last year I have thought a lot about her. The energy of thought seemed to escalate in direct proportion to the speed that I was losing her. Sad really that we appreciate things as they go. But maybe its for the best. Given that she was a ‘now’ woman it was better to just enjoy the now and reflect later.
Life was about participation. Didn’t really matter what the idea was if we were going to play together all necessary ingredients were in place. The details weren’t that important, they would sort themselves. Whether it was digging into her interminable supply of fun things to eat and drink that she brought for sustenance at the footy, sitting happily for some hours at Ryan’s birthday at Nielsen park just two years ago, catching a train to Brisbane with me and tucking into the pies we got at the faded glory that was once the dining car, the joy she had in looking after her grandchildren in such a grandmotherly way or, going back even further, the practical jokes she used to play to trick three odd boys trying to become adults ….slowly.
Our family basically was glued together by the gaps and cracks she bridged. Dad was the ideas man she delivered the vision with panache but, always in the background. She never let us see her total being. For all her playfulness I never deeply knew her nor she me. How do you really let people know you?
She was a non interventionist mother keeping instructions minimal, creating safe places for you to figure things out. I have learnt well to watch others do things. That’s how I’ve learnt to build things and how I learnt to play sport. Watch people who are good at something and try and mimick them. Whether that was deliberate on her part or whether she wasn’t sure how to deliver instructions without suggesting lack of love I don’t know but I have no complaints. I couldn’t answer that question of myself.
Stella is of the view good memory retention comes from paying attention. We remember what we pay attention to. Based on that corollary of life I fear that mum didn’t always pay attention. Perhaps her greatest failing she struggled to remember people she had met many times before and also the events. Maybe that was taking the ‘now’ thing a bit too far. I understand well but don’t approve her lamentable memory.
A story that has haunted me all my life that I did talk with Mum about but for which I have never forgiven myself. At the age of probably 16 I was successful in getting to the Milo Tennis tournament State finals which was to be held at White City tennis courts, the most salubrious competition courts in Sydney at the time. Mum offered to come and support me because it was a pretty big thing for me. I envisaged mum in the stands of Centre Court clapping as I dismembered my opponents.
Reality was different. I was located on court 23 where there were no stands. It was hard to even see the clubhouse from there. Mum came a bit later and eventually found me on court 23 and so there was me my opponent and mum standing on the court. No other mothers were there. I was humiliated. I went over and asked her to go home. Mum went home as instructed with a farewell of “good luck darling”. I never won a match or even a set that day, but did reflect that the lot of a mother is not an easy one.
Margery Louisa Castle: You’ve always believed in me and that’s all I could ever ask or want. I’ve even started to believe in myself, which I’m not sure you ever did of yourself. Hard work that.
‘The thing’s we’ve handed down’ is the name of a sublime song by Mark Cohn.
Filed under Uncategorized | Comments (2)all my lifes a circle
enjoyed our long weekend (NT special) by going to the NT writers festival which involved lots of interesting events at olive pink botanical gardens, a funky family’s front yard, simpsons gap etc. i had decided to have a bit of a break from working at home although did a few things. it was all fantastic but funnily still felt a little bit heavy and couldnt really identify why because i was having a good time. turned out to be the report i had to do for work which had to be done by Tuesday. had some interesting relational issues which weighed a bit heavy. as tuesday went by we worked through all the issues to the point we created a good proposal (this was to the CBA some will recall me coming down back in Feb to see them and its now taken a further step) so now i feel on top of the world. why did i feel so down and why do i now feel so good when life just continually oscillates this way circling between ups and downs. funny really or is it sad.
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