Friday, 9 January 2009

I'm Happy With That

I bumped into Matt whilst I'd dropped into Coles to grab some quick groceries yesterday arvo...

He looked really terrible! Eyes sunken, unshaven, just looked really pale. He obviously didn't want to hang about and talk, and I was only being polite and friendly and said G'day and happily shook his hand and smiled and let him know we can talk anytime, you know? But yeah... the poor buggers' obviously having a really rough time of it. I feel so sorry for him.


Dumping him out of my life has been the best thing I have done for myself in the past 18 months. Seriously.

It's easy to see it now... but he was parasitically leeching the life out of me, physically, emotionally, spiritually, mentally.

Thank goodness hindsight is 20/20.

Driving down to Penrith on Wednesday (for the whole wisdom tooth adventure, which was a 300km / 185 mile round trip), I ensured I dropped into my parents' gravesite in Leura (on the Blue Mountains, about half-way along my journey) to pay my respects. It's a surreal experience, because in my little worldview they aren't "there" (as such), and it's just a place where people can thoughtfully and thankfully remember them (that's how it works for me, anyways).

I always have a great chat with them whenever I go there. Nothing supernatural or anything like that, goodness no! It's just like sitting down with a cuppa and catching up. Of course I miss hanging out with them, that's only natural. But yeah... I sit and tell 'em about how the boys are growing, how my brothers' going, things like that. "You should see JD now! [ie. their first grandchild]. You wouldn't recognize him... he's such a handsome young man now!" kinda thing.

It's difficult to explain... but yeah. It's just like happily hanging out with them for a few minutes and catching-up. But they're not there.

Interesting things you say out loud at times like theses too...

Even tho my theologically-prepared background is Protestant Evangelical Christianity (gasp!), I was saying, "I know that you know that there's no way the living can know what happens when you die."

And I'm totally happy with that.

I took my camera along my travels on Wednesday as well, hoping to take a few happy snaps along the way. The first place I stopped at in Lawson was an old house I lived in for a few weeks back in 1989/90, while a band I was in at the time stayed at while we were recording our two CD albums. They were very happy fruitful times.

Pulled out the camera... battery flat. No worries... changed 'em... those were flat too. All four pairs of batteries were flat, dagmannit! I'd just forgotten to recharge them. Silly moi.

Not to worry. There's always next time.

When I rang JD last night to say hi and catch-up, initially I didn't recognize who's voice belonged to the young senior executive professional was who answered the phone so courteously and with such a deep baritone voice... it was JD, my 15-yo son!

We got a good laugh together out of that!

The autobiography "Wartful"* continues to develop not just in my mind but on 'paper'. Where would we be without the word processor? I'm just making outlines and pulling main themes together at the moment, making copious notes and pooling ideas together. Because it's an autobiograpy, the details are easy to source (obviously), and it's just a matter of getting the general ideas, themes and concepts into some semblance of order. It's in the planning stage, but yeah... this is going to come together pretty easily, I feel.

But I'm sure once the bare bone of the 'frame' upon which the flow can be built upon, i can just start writing as I go, taking bits at a time as they come. It's not going to be a forced thing - it simply won't have to be.

I already know what I'll be 'writing' first - the hardest (most awkward and difficult bit to face upto) bit! I'll just code it "1985" and leave it at that for here, Paige. Once I've made an attempt to cover writing and describing and reacting to that particular hurdle in that stage of my life, everything else flows out of that. So yeah... timeline-wise it's starting mid-stream, but in my lifes' journey, it's a starting point.

*Isn't that a terrible title? It's just a fun silly working title for now.
Peas be with ewe
Mal :)

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  1. poor matt. Well sometimes you have to fall to the bottom before you can get back up.

    So glad to hear that the book is flowing well.

  2. I didn't know you had lost both of your parents Mal. I used to get some comfort out of visiting Sarah's grave when we lived in Sydney, even though, as you say, she isn't there (she's mostly here with us!) but as a mother it was all I could do for her, you know? Tending the grave, bringing her flowers and cards on special occasions.
    Ah the Blue Mountains connection! My older three kids were raised there and two of my daughters still live there. I lived in Katoomba for a while when Katy was a baby. I loved it there, only moved back to Sydney because Katy had a syndrome that reacted to extreme cold.
    LOL at you and the batteries. Story of my life that is!
    Sorry to hear about Matt, but he's a grown man, he has to sort his life out himself.

  3. Wartful sounds like a good Title for an autobiography to me. It is clever in its name - like it will have some good advice and pain.

  4. Thanks. It's nice for me to be in a positive head space again. It's been waaaay too long.

    Yes, Matt needs to do these things for himself, and I'm not prepared to put myself out there and try to 'save' him anymore. It totally emotionally exhausted me. I'm NOT his mother, as much as I love him as a friend!

  5. Mal, when I go over to the Upper Hunter To Aberdeen, I always go and visit my parents' graves. I stit on the edge of them, if no one is around and tell them stuff. I clean the graves up, replace flowers, get rid of the garbage...but its not that often and I find it sad and wrong that I don't get over there more. When I go over to Wauchope where Don is buried, i sort of include all in his visit. Its our "sacred ground" and whatever you feel like doing or saying is as it should be.