Semantically driven

Our Nana used to live in Victor Harbor but when I was about 12 she moved to the city to be closer to her youngest daughter and that bit closer to my mum, her oldest daughter.

She moved into an apartment that had a pool. It was heaven for my sisters and I. During the summer holidays we’d stay on after Christmas for a week or so and it was a real holiday for us.

Nana would buy soft drink and keep it stocked up. This was a special treat as it was something that mum rarely allowed.

Her unit was only a 2 bedroom and she’d give up her room with the twin beds so 2 of us could sleep in there and the other 1 in the other little spare room. This allowed her to stay up that bit later I guess and smoke some more Benson and Hedges cigarettes and sip away at a bit more Stout.

I’m pretty sure Nana enjoyed having us stay. We certainly enjoyed staying there. And at that time it was very social around the pool. There were other kids living or staying so they’d invariably be hanging around or come out if we went to the pool. While we were younger Nana would come out and supervise us – she never joined us in the pool though.

We continued visiting her during the holidays and then when I finished high school I moved in with her. It wasn’t quite the same thing and those summer holidays then became a thing of the past for me as I joined the workforce and after a couple of years moved into a share house.

Only a few years after that Nana got taken to hospital and then put into a nursing home where she only lasted 3 weeks. She’d had enough and gave up on life.

Mum and her sister inherited the unit and eventually mum and dad bought out her sister’s half. I moved back in just before I went overseas and then again after I came back a couple of years later. It was perfect. Cheap rent and close to everything.

My sister now lives there after buying it from mum and dad so it’s still in our family after all these years. The pool is now fenced and rarely gets used.

I’ve always loved the beach. There’s something about the sound the waves make that make walking along the beach really relaxing.

I find I can really zone out when I’m walking by myself and it ultimately relaxes me and makes things feel better if I’m feeling a bit stressed or worried about something.

It’s that time of year when the water starts to warm up so a swim is a good add-on to a beach visit.

In my youth I lived in a share house with about 4 other people. I had a day job and they mostly worked night jobs in bars and after getting home from work one day they’d been to the beach and planned to go again the next day. Lo and behold the next day I was, ahem, too ‘sick’ to go work so I joined them on their beach excursion for much of the afternoon. I’m not sure how I hid my sunburn the next day at work – probably not very well.

These days I’m much more sun smart and usually only go for a swim first or last thing during the day.

Damnit, I just want to go to the beach right now. It’s a perfect day for it.

About 9 years ago dad had a stroke. I was at work on a Monday morning and got the phone call. I worked in the city at the time so was able to go straight to the hospital. Mum and dad live 2.5 hours away and dad’s brother was giving her a lift as she doesn’t drive in the city, and probably was in no state to drive. Dad was on his way in a helicopter as hospitals aren’t equipped to deal with things like this in the country.

Although 20 or so years earlier my grandmother, his mum, had a stroke and she stayed in the local hospital, before it closed, until her second stroke killed her. I’m guessing stroke treatment has come a long way during that time as she didn’t have any operations for stents for blocked blood vessels.

It was an anxious time sitting in the waiting room. Waiting for the rest of the family to arrive and waiting for dad to be admitted. There was a bit of a stuff up though as when I asked I was told that he would be coming in by plane and ambulance. We found out later that wasn’t true – he did arrive by helicopter. We were eventually allowed to see him.

He couldn’t move or speak, but he could cry. That shocked me more than seeing him lying on the emergency hospital bed more than anything because he’s not a crier, except for the time I left on my backpacking holiday in my mid-20s I saw a couple of tears escape from his eyes.

The first few days were a bit of a blur but things soon settled into a routine. The lad was only about 5 or 6 so he didn’t really get what was going on and taking him into hospital to visit dad meant short visits on my part, although sometimes I was able to visit at lunch times as I could walk there. Mum stayed with my sister and went to the hospital every day except for some weekends when she went back home.

There was another guy in the bed next to dad who was only in his 40s and apparently his stroke was related to the amount of recreational drug-taking he’d done. I felt for his mum who was from the country and had to stay in local accommodation to be around for him. Dad was in the Royal Adelaide for around 4 weeks and this guy was there before and after dad left. I wonder sometimes what happened to him.

He had quite a few visitors pop in to see him during his stay  so sometimes a visit to him meant a bit of a social occasion catching up with friends or relatives besides immediate family. At least we could chat among ourselves as it was a bit hard to converse with dad as his speech had been affected.

Dad was quite determined to recover though and what spurred him on was being allowed to drive again. Once he had surgery to put a couple of stents in and once he reached a milestone he was allowed to go to a rehab facility where he spent another 4 weeks or so.

Just in case you were wondering what early indicators of a stroke are?

You wake up on the weekend and as you don’t have much planned you think you’ll drag yourself along to a cafe for a breakfast not cooked by you and you know a cafe that has good breakfasts and great coffee.

You turn up to the cafe and of course you haven’t booked and it’s packed. It’s a gorgeous spring morning so all the tables are full outside as well as inside. Other people are turning up and looking around hopefully for a table as well.

You spot some movement at a nearby table and make a beeline toward it and hover around hoping they are actually leaving the cafe.

Phew. They are. Even though the table’s not cleared you sit down and wait for your friends and hope that they’re not too late. You’re kind of stuck at the table now. It’s a cafe where you have to order at the counter, and you’re hanging out for a coffee after a few drinks and a late night the night before so you want to keep your place so someone else doesn’t sit there.

A stressed waiter comes and clears the table and you let them know your friends will arrive any minute so they don’t think you’re just sitting there passing the time for the heck of it. As if!

You dig your phone out of your bag to make sure nobody’s texted to say they’re running late or they can’t make it. Nothing. You check Facebook, like a few updates, comment on a couple. Still nothing. You check Twitter, link through to a news article to read it. You don’t want to look up because you know there are people waiting for somewhere to sit. You half expect the waiter to come and tap you on the shoulder and ask if you’re ever going to order.

Finally, you sense some hurried movement near the door. You look up as your friends rush to your table apologising profusely for being late. You can relax now.

 

The daily writing prompts move from expressions to places. And how fitting that ‘supermarket’ is today’s prompt when Friday is usually my supermarket day.

I don’t know about you but I’m not a fan of going to the supermarket for many reasons.

One – it costs a lot. Especially with a teenage boy in the house. He keeps eating and eating and eating and there’s never enough food in the house.

Two – I have to go in with a plan which means I need to think about what I want to cook or prepare during the week. I inevitably leave something out and have to go back.

Three – The whole process of putting stuff in the trolley, taking it out and putting it on the conveyor belt so it can be scanned, putting the bags back in the trolley, putting them in the car, taking them out the car and then unpacking the bags makes me feel exhausted every time I think about it.

Four – I hate it when I go at a busy time so I try never to go on a weekend. Although if I go too early on a week morning the bakery stuff isn’t on the shelves yet so it can be a toss up!

I’ve considered online grocery shopping but it’s just not the same. I need the 3D experience so I think once virtual reality merges with online shopping that’s when I’ll stop going in person.

“Peace cannot be kept by force; it can only be achieved by understanding.” “Darkness cannot drive out darkness; only light can do that. Hate cannot drive out hate; only love can do that.”
~ Martin Luther King, Jr.

Peace and light and love everyone. Please….

Huh!

Today’s writing prompt is Joy. Today is the day that Donald Trump looks to be voted in as the next US President. I don’t feel any joy thinking about that.

I’m going to try and distract myself with joyous things instead.

Joy is in the nature around us.

Joy is in being able to relax and not give two hoots about how you look to others.

Joy is in seeing an unbelievable sunset – one like you’ve never seen before.

Joy is in being able to stay in a hotel where you get a kick-ass view during the day and the night.

Joy is being able to go on a holiday and see and experience some great things.