Hard Questions and Even Harder Answers...

We all harbour questions that we would dearly like to ask someone, or many someone's, but never think we will be able to spill the words.  It's like you're too scared to ask because you don't really want to know the answer?  Or you know what the answer will be, and can't bare to think of what you will do with said answer?  Or is it just me?

I've just spent the weekend up in Queensland.  Had three days of pretending that I didn't have a care in the world - no kids to worry about, no work to get to and no alarms to set, because there was nowhere I had to be!  I stayed in an apartment with two lifelong friends, and we sat and chatted, ate cheese and drank wine.  Had a massage in our lounge room overlooking the surf.  Read a book.  READ A BOOK!!!!!  We also went out two nights in a row, and drank copius amounts of alcohol.  Something I really very rarely do!

I also saw my Dad.  I haven't seen him since he had his heart problems late last year, so it was lovely to see him in the flesh and note that he had put on some weight.  And for the first time in my 37 years, he did not smell of tobacco and nicotine.  A HUGE and noticeable change.  He picked me up from the airport on arrival and drove me up to my friend's parents house.  Back to the same neighbourhood we had lived for many years.  His memory is vague, and I had to remind him of where the house we used to live in was.  We sat and had lunch, and chatted about a range of topics and then said our goodbyes.  When my weekend was coming to an end, I called him again and arranged to meet up to spend the afternoon before I departed.  I was a little anxious and couldn't figure out why?  But only minutes after pulling in to the caravan park he calls home, I worked it out.  I hadn't been to my Dad's place of residence in almost 25 years!  14 of those I didn't even know where he resided, or whether he was in fact, even alive.....

He showed me around his humble little caravan, and pointed out that he'd had a massive clean up since kicking the cigarettes months ago.  It was freshly painted and he'd acquired a few pieces of newish furniture.  It was certainly very "homely".  But to be completely honest - I was sad.  I was sad that the man who had spent the first 12 years of my life being my Dad, providing for me and making a great life for his family, had ended up in a caravan park.  Don't get me wrong - I have nothing against people who live in caravan parks!  I spent a couple of years myself living in one, after my Dad had lost all that we owned through his gambling habit, and my Mum and Step Dad were left to pick up the pieces.  SO I know all about people who live in caravan parks.  BUT - this one little caravan and its contents were all that my Dad has to show for his almost 70 years of life.  And it saddens me.

Anyway, I soon got over that sadness and got a royal tour!  Met all the locals, including his friend "Dot" whom I spoke to on the phone during Dad's stint in hospital.  She was the one who explained that he was very sick and required triple bypass surgery, and all that goes along with what that meant.  Lovely lady, even more lovely that I know she's looking out for my Dad.

I took a Nana Nap on his couch until it was time to leave for the airport again.  We grabbed some dinner in the departure lounge and chatted some more.  I can't remember what we were talking about, but I finally got the courage up to ask one of a million questions I'd been wanting to ask over the years - "Do you ever look back?".........  He did not hesitate in his answering, and I felt a wave of relief wash over me, that I was finally going to be able to hear my Dad apologise for all that happened.  "Oh, of course I look back, I look back and think how bloody stupid I was."  O.M.G.  Perhaps I would finally be having a conversation about the huge white elephant that has been sitting in the room the past ten years??  And then he continued........  "That's why I've never been in another relationship".  My ears pricked,  I could feel a Hallelujah moment coming.  "Because I could never have someone telling me what I can and can't do again"................

Deflation.

I just nodded my head and carried on eating my greasy chicken and chips.  I couldn't make sense of what he said, and really didn't want to.  We bid farewell at the departure gate and I headed back to Melbourne....

So I get home and relay this entire conversation to my husband.  At 11.45pm at night.  And he makes sense of it for me.  My Dad still doesn't acknowledge that his gambling was what ruined our family.  What ruined his marriage.  And why I had nothing to do with him for such a long time.  He is still living in denial.

I say "my family is fucked".  Andrew says "Our family is great".

Perspective.

I find more out about this family of mine the older I am getting.  Sometimes it puts things in place, other times it just gets more muddled.

Do you have any hard questions you haven't been able to ask?

Back to THE Suburb

Last night, we ventured back in to our old suburb.  Apart from getting my hair done, it's the first time I have been back.  We were invited to a get together for Christmas drinks, dinner and swimming.  Perfect.  Only it took me quite a few weeks to decide whether we would be going.  You see, when we moved back in July, we not only moved house, but I moved my head space.  I made a conscious decision to give myself time away from a place that had not only been home for eight years, but had also been very difficult for me to live in for the last two years we were there.

I've written quite a few posts about the shit I went through, but nothing really specific.  I don't find much point in re-hashing past events that I'm "over", but for your sake I'll make it short and sweet.  When Chelsea started Kindergarten, I met a group of really great chicks.  I wasn't really keen on making new friends as I (and this sounds ridiculous) already had enough good friends to get me through.  In fact, I'd only met one of my best friends a couple of years before at playgroup.  Anyway, I embraced these new friendships, and before I knew it, there was a group of us that would sit together at school events, get together on weekends, and go out for dinner on occasion.  Just after I had my hysterectomy, my best friend started distancing herself from me.  And over a month or two, was being so strange around me that I constantly found myself asking her whether I had done something wrong?  After many responses from her that all was well, I was left very confused, but was also very aware that she was spending a whole lot more time with one of the other Mums from school, and to be quite honest - I was hurt.

Eventually I ended up emailing her, and really pressing for a reason as to why things had changed between us?  And that's where it all headed down hill.  Things deteriorated quite quickly and before I knew it I was a bit of an outcast at school and was ignored and shunned by the same people I had become pretty close with.  It devastated me.

Facebook showed me in no uncertain terms that the group were still all friends, and that I had been left out of social gatherings, and my now ex-best friend quite cheerfully changed her profile pics and status updates to include others instead of myself.  Whilst a couple of those women still were polite and cheerful to me in person, my trust was damaged and I had no idea what was being made of me behind my back.   I had become consumed by the events, and was not coping - I'm not ashamed to say that I ended up in counselling.

Thankfully I have an amazing husband, whom at the time told me in no uncertain terms that this group of women would all eventually combust, and turn against one another.  True to his word, this exact thing happened, and some of those same women were left feeling exactly how I had felt.

Throughout this whole shitty ordeal, came a few wonderful things.  I met some other amazing Mums at the school.  And some I already knew became closer to me, and helped lift me out of the crappy situation I was in.

So my mental health was of utmost importance when we moved.  I needed to literally get a whole suburb out of my head.  I needed to re-centre my trust and figure out who it was I wanted to keep in touch with.  Five months later, and a cuppa with a friend early this week ended my break up with suburbia, and helped me to realise that I was now over it.

Fast forward to last night, and a lovely evening spent with some of those same Mums, talking over drinks and screaming kids in the swimming pool.  There wasn't much talk about the past, I'd spoken to each of the women there already, and had buried the hatchet.  It takes a big person to apologise for past mistakes and an even bigger person to let it go.  So yep - I'm calling myself a bigger person!

Anyway, this bigger person has had a fabulous day at work and has just popped the kids in to bed.  Andrew is comfortably planted on the lounge with PS3 controls firmly in hand and I'm wondering how we are going to manage hiding a bike in the shed for 24 hours without the kids sniffing it out?  So with my mental health back at it's best - I will now go and plant my own arse on a different lounge and think of some more reminiscing to share with you before this year is over!

Have you ever felt a time or place has sucked the life out of you?  Do you ever want to throw a video game station out a very high window??  

Lessons Learnt

A conversation last night, albeit via Skype,  led me to lots of thinking.  This is not new - my brain is generally on over-drive most days.  But it made me think about all of the lessons I have learnt over time, and made me question what makes some people tick?  Why do some of us take lessons in, suck the information in and take it as it is?  Why do others buck the trend, pushing boundaries and rules, only then to learn the lesson - sometimes too late?

Of all the lessons I have been taught, these are some that have stuck with me....

"Drugs will kill you" - I clearly remember this lesson, and took it on board!  From that day forward I believed that if I were ever tempted to try hard drugs, I would die.  It would be just my luck.  So I never did them.  Don't get me wrong - I'm no angel.  I gave Pot a go, but still have no idea all these years later what the appeal is?  I have also learnt, way too close to home, that this apparent "soft drug" can be much more harmful than it has ever been given credit for......

The Grim Reaper - remember him?  Those ads in the 80's of him standing in the bowling alley, knocking over people who had contracted AIDS, had me shaking in my boots.  It's a shame that we don't have such hard hitting ads aimed at teenagers these days.....

Special occasion hair and make up - DO NOT allow anyone in Myer in the 90's to do your make up an hour before your engagement party!  Lesson well and truly learnt there!

"Friendships Evolve" - A dear friend of mine shared this pearl of wisdom many years ago.  When we met, we were new Mums trying to make sense of the little human beings we had been entrusted with.  I was 11 years her junior, and took her wisdom for granted.  She was right on the money.

"Smoking Kills" - And people still smoke.  Young people still take it up.  Just.  Don't.  Get.  It.

I wonder if the designers at this "up-market" label were on some sort of drugs when they decided to release this beauty?

90's fashion.  Wrong then.  Still wrong now.

First impressions are usually lasting - I don't know how many times it will take me to get this!  I can usually pick someone's personality the first time I meet them.  You know, whether they're my "kind of person"?  Sometimes, just sometimes, I get it wrong!  But most of the time - I get it right.

"Forgiveness is giving up the hope that the past could have been different" - Oprah.  I've shared this one before, and will probably share it again.  It's worth sharing.  I miss Oprah.....

And last but not least?

Treat others as you would like to be treated.  I try my hardest to do this on a daily basis.  I am only human, so if I am pushed - I will push back.  But generally speaking, I can stick to my guns.  I definitely think my work helps.  Through working with people with disabilities, and also when I did some aged care, I have learnt how NOT to treat others.  Respect, dignity and a whole lot of patience can go a very long way.  Given - it is a whole lot harder to apply these to the general public at times!

So tell me - what are the greatest lessons you have learnt?  And are you passing them on?

Forgiveness.....and other stuff

This post has been swimming around in my head for a week now.  Exactly one week.  For it has been one week since my Dad arrived to stay.  He lives in Queensland, in a caravan park, in a van he oh so proudly owns.  Ask him, he'll tell you about it.

I did not know my Dad for a 15 year gap.  Not long after we (My Mum, Step Dad, Brother and miniature chihuaha - in a powder blue datsun - remember datsuns?) packed up our belongings, leaving our own shit-heap caravan/home behind, and headed to Victoria - we lost touch.  Well, more to the truth.....he kind of disappeared.  The kind of disappearing that happens on purpose?  To avoid paying money.  Nice.

Anywho......it TRULY didn't bother me, most of those 15 years.  In fact, I quite preferred it that way.  It was uncomplicated.  One less person I had to deal with.  It simplified my teenage years, to a degree.

Fast forward to circa 2002.  The phone rings.  Some random is on the other end.  And I have NO IDEA who it is.  Turns out it was my Dad.  Turns out he had a minor stroke and a pretty decent car accident.  Turns out he remembered he had children.

I can't even remember how that conversation went.  Needless to say, it must have gone well - given he's been staying here this week.  What happened after that phone call wasn't overly mind-blowing.  It was quite simple.  I had a choice.  I could hold a grudge against him and never let him in, or I could let it go.  The fact that he pissed away my family's security, all that we owned, and gave in to the gambling demons that haunted him?   We went from being a relatively "normal" suburban family with a very successful business owning Father....... to a Fatherless family who had to gather all of their possessions and live in a caravan for a couple of years.  Fun?  Not.

But I did it.  I forgave him.

Life is short.  

When I picked him up from the airport, over a decade after last seeing him, what I did see was an old man.  With next to nothing.  And he got in the car like nothing had ever happened.  So I went along with it.  And still do.

The strangest part about this story?  That he has been here for most of the seven days he's been in Melbourne, and I can honestly say I have not had a decent conversation with him.  Of course, that's not counting the stories he has told me about his kidney stones, constipation, sore shoulder and the strangers I knew nothing about until he told me!  Each day he has been here has been the same.  I go about my usual routines, and he hovers between watching television and popping outside for cigarettes.  

We are still strangers.

I feel like this should sadden me?  But it doesn't.  It just is what it is.  In essence, I am thankful that I have a Father.  One who has, over the past ten years, taken the time to get on a plane every couple of years to come and watch television at my house.  Taken the time and made an effort to send my children, his grandchildren, birthday cards.  And always calls me a week beforehand to let me know he has sent them something.  He has also taken the time to try to be a part of my life.  Even though I think I haven't really let him in.  I don't think he really knows me.  And probably never will.  

For all his faults, I love him.  And I know he loves me - unconditionally.   He never asks me for anything.  Nor do I ever expect anything of him.  So for now, it's working.  This Father/daughter thing.  It may be unconventional in some eyes, but that's my family.  Unconventionally conventional.

I want to end this with one of my all-time favourite quotes. 

 From one of my all-time favourite quoters - Oprah....

Are you a forgiver?  Or a grudger?