Sarah & Gam's Kempsey trip, Days 1 & 2

On the afternoon we arrived in Kempsey we did the usual tour of the house and garden with my parents. The last time we were in Kempsey was for Christmas 2006, and every time we go back a lot has changed, and a lot has stayed the same. My parents, for one. But I love the tours of the garden, even if I do get a serious case of garden-envy every time I go there. Green space, trees, clean air, room for chooks and a dog (even though they don't have any pets since the family dog and cat died, and they gave away my two silkies). The possibilities afforded by a backyard make the soulless McMansions popping up around Brisbane seem all the more obscene.



When we all went grocery shopping that first afternoon, we attempted to go and visit some family friends, Gary and Wendy- a couple just a little older than my Mum and Dad (but who always seem just a little bit younger in their approach to life). I'm pretty sure I've mentioned them before- they were at my brother's 21st birthday. Gary has one of the more aggressive forms of prostate cancer (not the worst a guy can have, but not the best either), and was due to go in for surgery on the Tuesday. They weren't home, but a small town being what it is, Mum and Dad ran into their parish priest as we were leaving the shops, and he told them Gary had been admitted to hospital in some kind of emergency.



The hospital is only a few blocks from Mum & Dad's house, so we stopped by on the way home. Gary had developed pericarditis, probably as a result of having the flu for a couple of weeks and overdoing it with his singing and golf, as well as work. Wendy was her usual wonderful, bubbly self, though somewhat full of I-told-you-so for Gary, having warned him to take it easy. While we were there, their oldest child dropped by with his eldest daughter. I remembered Ben as being extremely tall and rangy-looking, with long hair, baggy t-shirts and an almost sullen look. Now he's plumper (though not plump by any means), balding, with a buzz-cut and a smile- just as easy-going and cheerful as his parents. His little girl looked to be about 5, no doubt spoiled rotten by her grandparents... it's weird though- Gary and Wendy don't seem old enough to be grandparents. I suppose I have a warped view of things because my Grandma was about 67 when I was born, so to me, grandparents are supposed to look old and actually be old.



My brother Richard's girlfriend's parents just became grandparents- at the ripe old age of almost 40! I think Priscilla's mother turns 40 this year- she was 16 when she had Priscilla, and her dad was 17, I think. Priscilla's 19 year-old sister went into hospital in Sydney the evening we arrived, giving birth to her deadbeat 30-year-old boyfriend's baby. I haven't met the guy, but he sounds like he has the maturity of a 17 year old. Likes to regularly get blind drunk. Shortly after having his uber-Holden (some kind of Commodore?- like I could care) returned after it was confiscated by the cops for hooning, took Richard and my Dad out to show how easily it could get up to 200km/hour. I think he actually holds down a job, mind, but that only makes him marginally less of a douchebag. When Dad heard that Richard and Cil had travelled from Newcastle to Sydney to be there for the birth he ranted and raved because Richard had an important assignment due at uni the following Monday. He couldn't even understand why Priscilla would want to be there. Despite getting pregnant quite possibly being not the most sensible thing Priscilla's sis has ever done, it didn't mean it was any less momentous an occasion for them, Priscilla becoming an Aunty for the first time. And, let's face it, my brother becoming an Uncle (he's been with Cil for about 8 years- longer than Gam and I have been together). As if they were going to miss out on being there.

It's an odd thing to admit, but I think I had a little pang of jealousy with the realisation that my brother is going to be someone else's Uncle Richard, and that he's gained a whole other family in the same way that I have with Gam's. I'd always assumed that he was going to be Uncle Richard when we had kids, not when some 19-year-old upstart sister had one! Funny, spending half my life wanting to be rid of my bratty brother then all of a sudden not wanting to share him. Heh. He told me he's going to take a leaf out of our Uncle Richard's book, Uncle Richard being the definitive cool uncle. My brother will be a cool uncle, to Bonita's baby and hopefully one day ours.

The next day, we all planned to go somewhere. Gam and I were thinking we'd all go to Bellbrook, for something different, and then he and I could go on a drive to the beach together in the afternoon. Problem was that every time we said something like "We were thinking we might go to...", my parents would respond with something along the lines of "What a great idea! When do we leave?" Despite my telling Mum that Gam and I did want to do a drive somewhere on our own that afternoon, it slipped her mind, and the assumption was that everyone would come along. No such thing as time alone when we're staying with my parents. So we scrapped the idea of Bellbrook- it would be an hour's drive just to get there, as opposed to a 20-30 minute drive to get to one of the local beaches. Hat Head was the chosen destination- just a short walk on one of the trails. From our vantage point on a seat on the hillside we did get to see some whales breaching, and it was a very pleasant walk. Not as long as the forced march we took in 2006, but not as pretty either, despite the weather being exponentially better.

Mum and Dad made me drive to Hat Head and back, which probably wasn't a good idea. Especially given that their car is a slug compared with ours (when it comes to both braking and accelerating) and they couldn't tell me whether I needed to turn off before or after an upcoming bridge, nearly leading to a disaster. A disaster that would have been my fault, if we'd ended up in a ditch instead of merely poorly executing a sudden turn and nearly ending up in a ditch. Yikes. When we got home I was exhausted, which at least meant I had a plausible excuse for cancelling any other travelling plans for the day.



Gam cooked a roast leg of lamb for dinner, while I examined a bunch of old jewellery that Mum and Dad had got from Grannies place after she died. There were several strands of pearls, as you might expect for an old lady, but also some more unusual pieces, including a locket with a picture in one side of a guy with mutton-chop whiskers, and behind a clear panel in the other side, dark and blond hair woven together in a little criss-cross pattern. Similarly, in the back of a ring, there was a tiny clear panel underneath the centre stone, no more than 4-5mm across, with the same hair. I asked Dad who it would have belonged to and he didn't know but said he could find out. Pretty nifty, although I don't think an antique locket with a hundred-year-old picture of a dude with mutton chop whiskers and some dead peoples' hair is jewellery anyone would actually wear. It's a relic.

Speaking of relics, my Grandma is most definitely alive and kicking- and has entirely gotten over the fact that Gam is black, thank heavens. She had some stitches on her face after having something cut out, and was ill a couple of months ago- she suffered a silent heart attack, but not a bad one. Since that health scare she has been sleeping in my brother's old room- previously she lived in a section of the house that was entirely separate to my parents' place. She has meals with my parents but goes next door to her place for showers and general pottering around- she's still able to do everything for herself, at least as much as she ever was. I was glad to see she had the appetite of a horse when I was there- a 92-year-old with an appetite that good can't be in danger of fading away any time soon. She didn't even grab me and quote bible verses at me- I think the fact that she now actually sleeps at night instead of staying up until the wee hours and watching televangelist crap has done wonders for her physical and mental health. She took a nap during the day at one point, which surprised Mum and Dad, because now she sleeps at night she apparently never naps during the day. Mum was telling me that even though Dad got the flu really badly this year, it never affected Grandma- apparently she never gets sick! I think Mum must have got her awesome immune system from Grandma and I must have got Dad's cruddy immune system. Bugger.

I think Grandma is a bit of a handful for my Mum especially. Dad too, but he's always been less tolerant and less involved. Mum is a saint, but I can tell she's worn down by having Grandma around all the time. I did remind Mum how great it is that Grandma can still feed, clothe and bathe herself, and Mum agreed (no doubt remembering the suffering of her Dad, who was an invalid for almost my entire life, cared for by Mum and Grandma), saying sometimes she kind of loses sight of that fact. To be honest, I'd probably go nuts with Grandma around all the time, although to my mind she's better than she was when we were last there, not worse. Mum swears she'd rather be put down than become a burden on us, but for all her faults (all 2 or 3 of them!), having to look after Mum would never compare to having to look after Grandma. And I would never, ever want to palm my parents off on a nursing home. Although I'm positive my Dad would top himself if it ever came close to looking like happening. Should a child be grateful for that? It's a horrible thought, but the alternative can be so much worse. It sucks to even have to think about things like that. But I suppose it sucks more to have such decisions sprung upon you than having someone outline their wishes for end-of-life care, as Grannie did. I don't think Grandma has outlined any such wishes- I don't think she has any plans on dying, and I would hate to see her sink to the point where she ever does have to think about it. It wouldn't surprise any of us if Grandma lived past 100, but whether she does or she doesn't, I hope everything is as quick and painless as I would want for myself or anyone else I love.