Remembering Dad

 

The whole of last week, I was wondering what my late father was thinking about in his final days. 30 Nov came and went. Many times this past Sunday morning while in church I played back in my mind, how I received a telephone call from Jean, my brother’s wife, that morning.

 

It is now 2 years since my father died.

 

I recently received an email from an uncle. He was the first to the scene, after my mother called. God knows how weak I am. He spared me the spectre of my mother’s grief, which my uncle recalled in his email. I would have been severely and adversely affected by being there. Instead, I was wrestling with my own demons here in Melbourne. The weeks following were some of the darkest in my life. I often wondered however, how my mother is coping. I thought my battles in those weeks are probably child’s play compared to what my mother must have gone through. I hope she finds peace and joy constantly, somehow.

 

 

 

Summer – Silly Season

 

Last Saturday night we went to someone’s home for a dinner party. It was a break-up dinner for the cell group in that home. We got invited anyway and enjoyed the company.

 

The silly season has started. Break-up dinners and parties will take place for another weekend or so. Soon all systems come to a grinding halt. Church programs whittle down to minimum levels. Bulletins stop being printed. Cell groups and kids church stop.

 

At home, local TV stations pull their usual programs and put on re-runs of B-grade stuff. The only saving grace – for me at least – is the cricket. Channel 9’s “summer of cricket” is like a constant background thing right through summer. The commentaries from icons like Richie Benaud and Ian Chappell together with other commentators like Ian Healy, Michael Slater, Tony Greig and Bill Something (Crawford?) would drone on while we battle to keep cool. Occasionally one turns towards the TV set at the heightened cries of “Got him” or “beautiful cover drive”. For me however, on a Saturday afternoon in summer, I’d love few things more than having a cold one in my hand while watching the likes of Brett Lee charging in at an Englishman or South African batsman trying to take out his stumps.

 

Maybe the Australian summer means holidays and staying out at the beach till late so nobody bothers with anything else. Maybe it is just too hot to bother. Whatever the reason, many things shut down. In the next few weeks, more and more families will pack up and leave for their holidays. Some go away for a couple of weeks, some a couple of months. It is all very disruptive. It’s the silly season.