Just over three weeks ago, my niece got married. Nicole and Jon, her long time beau (we found out days before the wedding, that they had been together for more than a dozen years), were married in Melbourne on 5 July. A few days before that, Tress, Kiddo and the girls flew down to Melbourne. I dropped Tress off at the airport early in the morning, and proceeded from there to make the drive to Melbourne. Mic did the same, but had to go back to their home to pack more stuff.

My youngest sister came to Melbourne with her younger son (YJ), for the occasion. My brother and his wife too, were there, as were Daniel and Isaac, Nic’s dad and brother. A few of of Jon’s relos made the trip too. We stayed in an apartment block just up Swanston Street, a stone’s throw from the Queen Victoria Market.

For the couple of days before the wedding, we took the visitors sight seeing in Melbourne. It was the first time Tress and I were back in Melbourne since leaving in December last year. I said to myself I did not miss the congestion and busy-ness, and was secretly happy I now live where we do. I missed the accessibility of Asian food (especially Malaysian food) that’s for sure. I can however, do without that privilege. I am happy to trade that accessibility for the tranquillity of Weston Creek, Kambah and the likes. Maybe I truly am old now.

The wedding on Saturday, 5 July, was beautiful. It was a gorgeous sunny morning and the obviously happy bride and her groom basked under the clear skies outside the Cross Culture Church on Swanston Street, as the large group of their young friends shared in the happy moments, clicking and snapping away.

On Monday morning, my brother and his wife got in the car with me, and we made the drive up to Canberra. Tress, Kiddo and the girls made the return flight home later that arvo, and late that evening we all got back and for the next several days, we hosted my brother and his wife and showed them around. They came mainly to see and spend time with the girls and little Abby was quick to latch on to how fun it was to engage with “Pek Kong” and “Em Poh” (aka crazy auntie). They got on well and we all agreed we will keep these memories fresh, until at least February next year, when another round of parties will take place in Penang, to celebrate the union.

It has been over three weeks since the hustle and bustle that accompanied the visitors. We are now back in the “throes” of winter, with sniffles, coughs, fevers, runny noses and all those winter blues constantly hovering over us. Tress has been coughing, Kiddo has had the sniffles and aches, and the girls too have had paracetamol become a condiment of choice. There are a few weeks to go, and already I am looking forward to warmer days when all these travails will be behind us for a bit.

On Saturday morning, we slept in a bit and then I rushed off to a Men’s Prayer Breakfast thing that Southside Bible Church convenes regularly. It was at John and Hannah Cho’s home in Wanniassa and their famous breakfast spread was well and truly spread out when I arrived, and not before I caught a delicious waft of the inviting aroma of a cooked breakfast, as I walked through the large front door. The prayer breakfast was very well attended, not least by a very healthy proportion of younger men. I’m glad I went to this event. It helped my inching towards becoming more rooted with this mob. It felt good to be there, praying together with them.

Last night, after little Zoe had her bath, Kiddo took out a contraption that looked like a mini disc grinder. Little Zoe’s nails needed trimming and those little discs that sat atop a electric shaver like tool, spun away as Kiddo trimmed those tiny nails. Big Sister wanted in on it as well so I hoisted her up and we all hovered over the two girls sitting on the kitchen benchtop. Mic held Zoe, I held Abby, Kiddo worked the grinding tool, and Tress made sure we were all careful with this military styled operation. As Kiddo worked on Abby’s nails, I thought, for the umpteenth time, I’m glad we made the move. Bittersweet departure from Melbourne notwithstanding. Cold mornings winter blues notwithstanding. The wedding is over, but the joys remain.

A couple of nights ago, we were, as usual, at Kiddo’s early in the evening. It was a Sunday, we have had most things we needed doing, done. We were going to make a soup of sorts for them, to provide some form of comfort for a household that has been invaded by winter blues. They have other options so we didn’t do the soup so we had time to chill at home, did some quick grocery shopping for our own home, and then headed over earlier than we normally do.

Everyone was a touch more chirpy than they were a few days earlier so it was more comfort than I had hoped for. I have been looking for, and embracing, little grateful-for-this happenings in recent times, so this too – the slightly more upbeat and chirpy vibes – was embraced with like gratitude. Kiddo had recovered from pesky eyes and them sniffles sounded more manageable, Mic looked more energised, as were little Abby. Little Zoe as always, was a bundle of cuddly cuteness, especially when that bright smile or unbridled chuckle breaks out.

Later on, when big sister wanted to have someone read to her, Mic brought out a book they had bought earlier that arvo. Tress and I looked at each other with “another book…” expressions. It was only $8, we were told. Another Bluey, yes. Well, better Bluey than other kiddie varieties, I thought. As Mic sat down to read to big sister, the little one was passed to him and so he held little Zoe with one hand and had Abby seated near, head almost burrowed, close to that brand new book. Kiddo crouched over from her nursing rocking chair, and added to the audience for the reading. The four of them sat in the lounge room, focused on Bluey coming alive from those pages that Mic was reading. Hands down the best $8 spent. Melting moments. No confectionary needed – this was every bit as sweet and comforting.

It’s just a little over 2 weeks before it hits the 6-month mark since we left Melbourne to come and live here in Canberra. It feels like we have settled into a routine, with rhythms, and perhaps cadence of sorts. Feelings that make life appear settled, normal and well, take on a form that allows one to dive deeper into one’s inner thoughts. And reflect I guess.

Since returning from Malaysia nearly a month ago now, I’ve planted some little shrubs on our front yard. Peter the landscaper has more or less finished the job of making over our backyard mainly, and the front yard, a little. On Anzac Day, we had brunch with Kiddo and her mob in Rodney’s and I picked up the plants I had in mind. Some nandinas, golden diosma and grevilleas. Natives that add a bit of colour and hopefully, attract birds, when they are fully grown.

Then on election day (3 May) we went and voted at the Duffy Primary School which had, other than the mandatory democracy sausage stand, a plant vendor. We picked up some kangaroo paws too and those have also gone into the front yard. I have been watering them most mornings, as Peter has yet to finish installing the irrigation system there in the front yard.

The backyard has been watering well, and a couple of Saturdays ago, the new lawn past its one month mark and it has grown well, with thick and luscious grass screaming to be mowed. I obliged and the lawn now looks better than before, sans old tree stump and dry arid red dust peppered across parts of the backyard. Lawns and new shrubs in and they look like they too, are settling in. They added to that sense of having settled to allow routines to take shape.

The routines that see Tress and I dropping into Kiddo and Mic’s home on weekdays, after we log off work, have been the real cementing elements. Playing with the little girls, helping with dinners and tidying up, seeing the girls grow and develop into little angels, have all made me think we have been happier. Sure, I have missed the footy games at the MCG, the Malaysian/Asian food choices, going into the office and being in a wonderful Christian community like St Alfred’s. It appears like we gave up wonderful things – enjoyable things – to come and live in this quiet, semi rural and strange capital city. Being with Kiddo and her family however, have more than made up for anything we may have foregone. Every night as we say goodbye to little Abby and her family, to make the 10-12 minutes drive home, I tell myself I have seen Tress far happier. Not that she wasn’t happy before, when we lived in Melbourne. She just comes across as being more fulfilled, and her happiness appears to have come from a deeper source. One that satisfies far more than those experiences the Big Smoke offered. I share in that contentment and the derivative joy, and not just because I see that in Tress.

Like our new lawn and shrubs and flowers, I feel we have added colours and life attracting visits to our experience. Sure, true contentment and joy need to, and do, come from that relationship with our Creator God. These little anchors however, provide guiderails that let us hold on to more tangible sources of contentment while we take in the “here but not yet” higher experience.

On the morning of Tuesday 15/4, as Tress and I returned from walking the little guy and settled onto our desks to start the day, we received a message from Ben, Tress’ brother. Dad has gone. We couldn’t believe what we read, as we (Tress) had been exchanging messages with him over the weekend, and there was nothing to suggest anything was wrong. He was healthy, he was his normal self.

He went to bed the night before, woke for a little while a bit after 2am, went back to bed, and went to be with the Lord. He never woke again on this earth, and did not say goodbye to anyone, including his wife. For that, she had a lot to process.

Tress frantically searched for flights and we grabbed what looked like the earliest flights out. We dropped the little guy off at Kiddo and Mic’s, and a bit after 4pm, we were in a taxi to the airport. Kiddo and Mic were meant to be in Sydney over the Easter weekend but had been wrestling with logistics and they graciously agreed to take the little fellow and skipped Sydney. We flew out of Canberra late that same arvo, into Melbourne. Just before midnight, we flew out of Melbourne to get to KL.

We arrived early the next morning. We got into the house just before 8am, and Tress’ mum was distressed. She said he was cruel to her for not having said goodbye. We just let her vent. We did not say anything. Tress stood next to him as he lied in state, mum weeping next to her. I stood behind them both as I looked at him, one of the kindest, most soft spoken man I had ever known. Later that day, I said to her brothers (Ben and Victor) and mum, that Dad only ever “raised” his voice with me once. It was soon after our wedding, and for the first time in years, after calling him “Uncle” for so long. I struggled to call him Dad and he was not happy. He chided me for not calling him Dad with conviction. I deserved it. It was the only time he had ever expressed any sort of impatience or displeasure of any sort with me. I also rarely saw him being anything other than mild mannered, with anyone else. He was the gentlest man.

The wake service that night was packed and it rained heavily towards the end. So, the crowd remained and we caught up with a host of folks.

The next day, we gave him the final send-off. He was laid to rest, not far from where my own Dad rested.

For the next several days, we helped mum with numerous administrative matters. We went to banks, insurance companies and various other establishments to sort out what needed sorting out. We also had the family lawyer come to the house to walk through his Will and probate application process. The family thought we should extend our stay and tried as we did, we could not find flights back that were later than our scheduled ones. It was the Easter/Anzac Day long weekend cum school holidays and folks were probably returning after being away. So we returned per schedule, and came back late last week.

I still see him in my mind, whenever I thought about our trip back. I see him in his shop office at Jalan Taiping, I see him in the dining room at home. I see him on the bar stool in the lounge, and I see him in the kitchen table. I can only imagine how much more Tress and his siblings miss him.

Today’s Kiddo’s birthday. A few days ago, while sitting in her lounge room, I said to her I could not believe she’s in her thirties now. That sounds incredible. It feels like it was just yesterday, when she was being this adorable little toddler running around gnawing at her bread. She was just 10 when we moved to Melbourne, and my early memories were of us two walking to her school, the Mount Waverley North Primary School. We went there on some weekends too, to walk and muck around in the school compound. Then she was in high school and before long, we were with her at the entrance exam event at the Exhibition Building at Carlton Gardens, to earn her spot in MacRob’s in the city, for her later years in high school. After highlights that included history tours to Europe and waking up early to a text message of her high school (ATAR) score, she left home and came to ANU.

She’s been in Canberra ever since. She’s made her life here. Her beau is a wonderful husband and father, and she, a wonderful mum. Their two little girls are the centre of our lives at this point in time.

Yesterday, Tress and I spent the early part of the arvo at the Parrys’. Jayan is the minister at Southside Bible Church (SBC). We’ve been spending Sunday arvos listening to him in recent weeks, “jumping through hoops” to become part of SBC. When we were told there were to be 5 chapters of material in a “Connect Course” before one becomes a member (a “Partner” in SBCLand), I baulked. For a day or so, I said, to Tress and Kiddo and her beau, we might just show up at SBC without ever becoming a member. Then Kiddo gave me a spiel about how it might not be a bad thing to jump through those hoops. I listened, and then asked the Lord to lead. He said to just chill. Submissiveness was the word that jumped out soon after. I had baulked mainly for personal reasons – yes, pride – thinking why is an old guy who has been a church going Christian for more than 45 years, being made to attend numerous mind numbing classes to become a member of a suburban outfit. That pride, along with all the other humble pies I had been swallowing in recent times, had to be addressed. Has to be addressed. Kenosis came to mind. “It isn’t about me”, is a mantra to be rinsed and repeated.

So, 4 weeks and piles of paper later (along with several good lunches), the hoops are behind us. Tress and I are glad we did it. I say that now, yes. Well, it’s done and yesterday arvo, as we sat in our own lounge after walking the little fellow, I opened the app on my phone and submitted the “paperwork” to become a member. An “interview” beckons. Yes, another hoop. Getting to or through SBC Land is like getting to a Succoth enroute to the River Jordan.

The interview may bring up the egalitarian versus complementarian issue that came up (very briefly) during one of those sessions with Jayan. It may not. Tim Keller and N T Wright had those polar views on that issue. I listened to and read both, so I had parked my own conclusions and that was what I said in “class”. Jayan may or may not have passed that on to his team members who make up the interviewer pool. Yes, it’s unlike any community I have ever been part of. It almost feels like they needed to be on overdrive for everything they do. I thought, on numerous occasions, that it felt like a lack of self confidence so compensatory steps were thought necessary. I don’t know. We’ll see.

In the mean time, I’m just contented to be here, with Kiddo again. And her family. It’s her birthday today. It has been quite a ride. For her mostly I’m sure, but for me too, and I guess for Tress too. A ride I’d jump on again and again.

A little buzz around the BC has been floating in the air in the form of those big hot air balloons. We see them during our morning walks with the little fellow. Last week, we thought we should go to the site where these are launched. So on Saturday, we started the day with that in mind. We decided to head to Weston Park, at the western edge of the Lake Burley Griffin. As we approached the park, we saw those big balloons hovering over us.

The park was busy, with some kind of park run events brewing. We walked around the tracks, saw very little of the balloons, but had a great morning of just mingling with the weekend runners and walkers. The little fellow too, was buzzing as he took in the new site. After our walk, we headed home and then joined Kiddo and Mic with the little angels, at their local, the Blanco Cafe on Boddington. It’s always wonderful to be with this family, and as we left their home late morning and headed to the Woden library, I felt grateful again.

We dropped off my books at the library, picked up a couple of books, and then did some grocery shopping. I had promised Kiddo and her mob that I’d do a pumpkin soup for their dinner. Back home, I decided to roast the pumpkin on the charcoal weber for extra lift, and spent the arvo doing the soup. We brought that to Kiddo’s home later that evening and spent yet more time with the little angels. Little Zoe had her bath too, and as we all stood around the kitchen bench with the little thing in that little bath tub, I thought it was such a special moment.

Tress and I went back that night, happy and grateful.

On Sunday, after SBC, Tress and I went to what is becoming our new local Malaysian place, Ming’s at Philip. We had some noodles there and while not the typical Malaysian styled fare, it was enjoyable all the same.

After lunch, we headed to Woden again and got some fruits, and then headed home to give the little fellow a run around the local oval that is about less than a km away from our home.

There was to be a “Connect Course” for newbies at SBC, later that arvo at Jayan the senior minister’s home. SBC does not have its own premises so a lot of stuff happens in ministers’ homes, especially at Jayan’s. As much as I do not enjoy these sit downs over prolonged chats about local church administrative stuff, I have come to accept these as necessary steps of our local community forming process. It is what is necessary to start community life again where we have made our new home. The course ended earlier than we expected so we headed to Kiddo’s home again after that.

Tress and I again embraced the fact that everything is within 10-15 minutes away – the Weston Park, SBC, Jayan’s home, Kiddo’s home, Woden and Mings. Back in Blackburn, I’d like to get my shopping, food and community life in a 5-10km radius from our home. That was by choice as it becomes a bit out of control otherwise. The sprawl and heavy traffic made that choice more sensible, for me at least. Some of our friends think nothing of jumping in a car and drive 30 mins through heavy traffic for lunch, for example. We didn’t, and “made do” with whatever was available inside that smaller circumference. Here in the BC however, that 10-15 mins drive take us much further afar so ironically, the options/choices become less encumbered in some ways. Strange I know, but that is what it is now.

At Kiddo’s last night, I was again carrying little Zoe – cooing, singing and talking to her. I get into my own little world with her when I do this. I feel so greatly blessed every time. Little Abby was a touch under the weather but even then, she wanted me to play with her, and asked that I trail her around the house and do stuff with her. I feel so greatly blessed every time she does this. I know Tress feels the same.

As we drove home along Kambah Pool Road and turned into Namatjira Drive, the familiar sentiment welled up in me again. I was going to sleep well again last night. My little Garmin watch confirmed it this morning.