When Ruth and Jonathan were with us last weekend, they mentioned their parents, my Uncle Stephen and Auntie Paddy were in China and Hong Kong. They were in China to visit the old ancestral home in Hui Ann village in Fujian and in Hong Kong to visit Pai Li, a cousin who moved there with the family several months ago. Pai Li’s husband Shao Lead works for Intel and they’ve been expat-ting – previously in Costa Rica and now in Hong Kong.

A short while ago Uncle Stephen sent an email to a number of us, attaching some photos of the ancestral home. It was the home my late grandfather was born and grew up in. While in Malaysia, he asked the local church to use the building. That church has since moved to its own bigger and newer premises. 6 Chek took a photo of that building too, which is only about 100m along the same road. 6 Chek has accurately described the new place a pretty building.

I wonder if at different stages of our lives we are affected by different expectations and aspirations and therefore react to memories differently. Years ago I reflected more and looked back in the rear view mirror of life with more affection. I appreciated history more. I had a more acute sense of wanting to connect with the past. In as much as those photographs carried a lot of meaningful history, I couldn’t connect with the sentiments those photographs deserve. I could evoke little.

As a boy growing up in Klang we visited our late grandparents regularly – often at least once a week. I had made entries in this blog about the family altar practice my grandfather started and maintained and how that allowed so many of us to be well rooted in what I consider good things. Often in these family settings, I’d hear about this grand old house in Hui Ann, Fujian. Everyone who paid attention to what grandfather said and what grandmother griped about (he was always sending money for maintenance and up-keeping of that house) would not have missed the connections he, grandmother and some of the uncles and aunties had with that house. So those photographs should have evoked warmer and better affections. But they didn’t.

Maybe it is simply the elapsing of time. My grandfather died in 2002. That was 3 World Cups ago. I still remember a lot of the things he said. Things he said to me, things he said to the family, things he said to my late father and things he said to the public – in church, in community meetings, in weddings and in funerals. I remember his mini sermons he gave over the family altar. His prayers. His admonishments. His praises and encouragements. I still love him and I wish I can now have long conversations with him. In other words, my memory and affection for him remain vivid and strong. So I cannot account for the lack of connection I feel with those photographs.

The only reason I can fathom therefore, is I’m in or at a phase where the memory of past resonates less than expectation for the future. That is strange because it feels counter intuitive and inversed to how I (and perhaps others) generally expect our connection with the past to grow. I would have expected my sense of history – the desire to connect with my past – would grow as I become older. The opposite has proven to be truer. Maybe I’m hitching my outlook on something external to me…

As is often the case in recent months, Tress and I found ourselves depleted of all useful energy on Friday night. So we did a lazy dinner at home – picked up some cooked chicken from Safeway – and just stayed in front of the TV.

Uncle Jin had rang earlier so I returned his call and spoke about his will and stuff for a bit.

We then trailer-surfed on Apple TV for a bit and found this Afghan flick titled “Kite Runner”. It was cheap too – $0.99! So we sat down and enjoyed this movie and what a wonderful film it was. It was a tale of loyalty, fear, making right a wrong committed a long time ago and the courage the act of self-redemption took (and the rescue of a child). When we purchased the movie we thought we would struggle to keep awake (due to our tiredness entirely) but the story was such a compelling one we were wide awake right to the very end of the 2-hour “reel”.

On Saturday Tress went to get her hair cut while I prepped to do some gardening. I didn’t want to start the hedge trimmer and mower till at least 9.30 in the morning, to avoid becoming a pesky inconsiderate neighbour but when it was finally 9.30, the hedge trimmer wouldn’t cut. I had bent the blade a couple of months earlier and had sent it into a repair shop. Obviously the repair wasn’t effective. So I waited for Tress to get home and then we both took the trimmer back to the repairman. It’s only a little Ozito unit and I had spent $40 on the repair bill so I told the guy if it was going to cost more money I wouldn’t want it done. These machines – while not cheap – are not expensive enough to warrant large repair bills. There’s a high chance now I probably need to get a new hedge trimmer soon.

Anyway, we got home and I did some work manually, having already taken out some tools as well as the ladder. I spent a couple of hours trimming, mowing, weeding and cleaning while Tress got the laundry done, vacuumed the rooms and got the guest room ready for Ruth and Jonathan who were going to visit and stay the night.

After lunch at Penang Inn (Madam K was packed) we went to the estate agent (Noel Jones Blackburn) to sign some docs for them to manage the Blackburn South unit for us. We then did some grocery shopping and went home where I vacuumed the lounge and did some general cleaning while Tress walked the little fellow.

Just after 4, we drove to St Kilda Road and picked up Ruth and Jonathan. We then headed straight to Old Kingdom at Surrey Hills. After dinner we headed straight home and talked with them for a bit before retiring for the day.

Sunday all 4 of us went to church which happened to be an “All Age” service. Ruth knew Karen Winsemius’s (the children’s pastor) brother from Canberra so caught up with her for a bit.

We then took them to Madam K – it was just as packed as on Saturday but we weren’t in a hurry this time, and we had a hearty brekky too so we didn’t mind waiting for a table.

After lunch we headed for the Tulla and dropped Ruth and Jonathan off. It was really good catching up with them again.

We then headed back towards home and on the way, stopped by the library at Nunawading. Jonathan had told us how they used the library resources at Adelaide and we realised how we’ve neglected this wonderful resource. We had used the Mount Waverly library quite a bit when we first arrived but had not used the Whitehorse services. So we signed up at the Nunawading library, Tress got a few DVD’s and I got a Zadie Smith book. I also tracked down an aboriginal history/community development book (Richard Trudgen’s “Why Warriors Lie Down and Die”) that Bill Walker from the church home group had recommended. The book was in the Doncaster library but the librarian had kindly rang and asked that it be sent to Nunawading and I should be able to pick it up tonight if I wished.

We then went home, I did some cooking (pumpkin soup) for later in the week while Tress did some ironing as well as putting away the linen and stuff from the guest room. It had rained all day so the little fellow didn’t get his walk but he was very good all the same. Later, a friend dropped in with some “Zongzi”- rice dumpling for the dragon boat race festival. Tress and I shared one and it was delicious.

We settled down that night somewhat happy and satisfied – we’ve caught up with very dear cousins, the house was cleaned, we had quite a bit of food in the fridge and things have settled into a peaceful and hopeful rhythm. I only hope my dear friends and brother/sister – Jason and Mel – could also move ahead and settle down to such serenity.

We went out for dinner with Jason and Mel on Friday night, at the HD Grille just off Burwood Road only a few minutes from home. We took our time, chatted and generally had a good wind down. Tress and I continue to hope this couple turn away from what has been bothering them for over a year now, and head in a fresh and new direction which would do them good.

On Saturday we took the plunge – and bought that investment property we have been thinking about for a while now. We went to the inspection at 10.30, hung around for the auction at 11, and ended up as the highest bidder. Our bid was nevertheless under the reserve price so we were asked to stay behind to negotiate with the seller. We did, and ended up buying it. By the time we finished all the related administrative stuff it was nearly 1pm. We then went about with the rest of the weekend routine – not that buying a house was a weekend routine of course.

Our old friend Alex was throwing a dinner party and Tress had been asked to bring some fruits so we went to get some.

We got home, and while Tress did some housekeeping stuff at home, I took the little fellow for a walk.

There was a soccer match on the Nunawading City FC ground. I had that little fellow off lead as usual when we were on the “second pitch”.

First some background to my story. Mahoney’s reserve comprises some parkland which includes 3 pitches. The whole area is off lead for dogs.

The fenced cricket pitch directly in front of our home is the one most used by dog owners. In winter months it is used for soccer and very occasionally, footy. The next two are open fields (unfenced). There’s a fourth but it’s all fenced in high and the Nunawading City Football Club (soccer). The first of these two open fields is just next to the Nunawading City FC space.

Whenever we take him out while it is still light and conditions are dry enough, we take him first to the cricket pitch, then to these two open fields. He’d bounce and run around, chasing birds and sniffing at everything, sometimes playing with other dogs. So we generally leave him off leash.

On Sat he was off leash on the first of the two open fields when I was watching the football game being played. When I looked around after a few minutes, he was nowhere to be seen and to my horror when I saw him he was inside on the football ground where the match was under way. He was near the sideline. As I ran around the fence to get to him, he ran towards the middle of the ground, to the howls and jeers of the spectators (a couple of hundred people). One of those spectators said to me I better put him back on the leash, now that he has succeeded in stopping a game…so I leashed him up, ran him across the second field and only when we were safely on the third and last field did I unleashed him again…I don’t think he realised he had his 20 seconds of fame.

That night we went to Alex’s and caught up with some old friends again, which was very nice. We came home and I was a touch inebriated and so went to bed pretty soon but woke up early on Sunday morning for that Champions League final which was a very entertaining game. Real Madrid won after extra time. The very good game meant Dr Miriam Kammel’s message in church wasn’t given the attention it richly deserves, but I followed it anyway.

After another long walk with the little fellow on Sunday afternoon, we just rested for the rest of the weekend, getting ready for another week of the work rest routine. Life has taken on a steady tempo.

Tress and I had dinner at Enrik’s on Friday night. It was great to unwind in a nice joint without too much hassle – the place is a stone throw away from Blackburn Station and we just walked across after getting out of the city into Blackburn.

After breakfast in a place called Graceland Cafe in Doncaster, I was playing with some rough numbers in my head on Saturday morning, as Tress and I ambled up Jackson Street, a stroll away from where we are. The unit was well built and had a simple layout which we thought would suit our later years. My numbers game landed on a figure and I was disabused of my dream from the opening bid. We laughed it off but the pain which comes from crazy auctions is often difficult to shake off. We saw several other properties later that day but each property confirmed for me that the process of finding a little investment property remains a bit of a dream.

In between property hunting we had lunch at Madam K’s, bathed the Little Black Jedi and tidied up the front lawn a little bit. I then checked out some you tube concerts by Mark Seymour and later that evening we watched a movie at The Chase – Spiderman and his latest battles with cartoonish baddies like “Electro”, badly played by Jamie Fox. After that movie we came home to more superhero stuff, this time watching The Dark Night on tv.

First thing on Sunday morning, I checked out the football news. The Gunners won the FA Cup and Barcelona failed to beat Athletico Madrid, allowing the latter to win the La Liga for the first time in close to 20 years. Man City had won the English league on the last day of the season, battling it out with Liverpool but winning easily in the end. This weekend sees the pinnacle of European club football played out in Lisbon, between Real Madrid and Athletico Madrid – all Spanish final. It has been such an exciting season but Man Utd were just outside looking in, nursing the hurt of being out of Europe for the first time in decades and out of running from all competition weeks ago. For Man Utd, it’s an annus horribilis.

After church and lunch at Madam K’s we bought some food and headed for Uncle Jin’s. Even lighter traffic took us nearly 45 minutes to get there and since we were the only ones there, Uncle Jin and Auntie Pin discussed the matter of their wills with us quite freely. I took away some notes, made some suggestions and after a while, left for home. At home, we worked the gardens further for a bit, then Tress took the little furry black ball for a walk and I cooked some soup for later this week. We then skyped with Kiddo for a bit before getting ready for another week’s cycle of the usual grind.

When I started at my present job 2 years ago, there were 5 lawyers, including my boss. There are now 5 lawyers but only my boss and I remain. The other 3 are “new”.

The only female member of the team then left less than a year ago. We had a contractor fill the role for a few months and earlier this year, another senior lawyer took over the position. She didn’t last long either, as the constant tailspins made the work environment unsteady and often, slightly tumultuous. She left some 2 months ago.

We currently have another contractor, who is one of the most gentle and nicest female lawyers I have come across here in Melbourne.

Laura took a day off yesterday. She said she was going to Canberra. She must have assumed I knew who she was. I didn’t. I do now. Laura is Laura Smyth. When she started, I thought that name sounded familiar but did not investigate further. Laura Smyth was the ALP member for La Trobe. In the last election the Liberals won it back. She held it for a term. She was also prominent for a while, for backing Kevin Rudd to return as leader for the ALP, shortly before the last election.

I have for a long time now, suspected most if not all members of the legal department are on the left of politics. I suspect they are Labor voters, Greens even. One of them – a very likeable bloke towering well over six feet – may be the son of Peter Reith the former Liberal frontbencher and a stalwart of the Howard government but I can’t be sure he (the son) is of similar political persuasion. I understand his father is estranged from his mother and for all you know he might have chosen to cross the floor.

We rarely if ever, talk politics in office or when we’re out having lunch or coffee or drinks so I don’t know for sure and frankly, I care less about political persuasion than about principles, beliefs and practices. The former may well influence and affect the latter but there need not be a causal link between the two.

But there you go – in a legal department of 5, there are 2 connections to the politically prominent.

I have had a miserable cold from Tuesday last week but had soldiered on for the rest of the week, relying on “Ease a Cold” capsules. So when Friday came along and Tress came home from Point Cook saying the next day the troop planned to have lunch in Sunshine, I struggled to understand what was going on.

There were like 12, maybe 13 people so at least 3 cars were needed, to ferry the lunch party from Point Cook to Sunshine. For us out in the eastern suburbs, it was a 45 minute drive to Point Cook, followed by a further half an hour to Sunshine. For lunch. In a noisy, chaotic, sticky floored, Vietnamese yum cha place smack in the middle of an industrial hub centre surrounded by car and tyre workshops and the like. Wasn’t there an eatery in Point Cook?

And so I endured a miserable Friday night. Nursing a cold, watching Hawthorn struggling and then losing to the Sydney Swans, and wondering how I was going to go through Saturday putting up with an incomprehensible plan.

What price we pay to keep family harmony unscathed?

What price indeed, as it didn’t stop there. After lunch, the plan was for dinner, we would do a collective swerve of a bearing of approximately 30 degrees clockwise towards the city. The convoy would take off again. This time, from Point Cook to Docklands. To a little restaurant which must have struck a long term bargain to be supplied sugar at bargain basement price. Every dish was sweet, as in sugary sweet. That was a few nights ago when we had trudged there and I circled the Docklands precincts some 5 times before deciding to simply stay put and wait for someone to exit a spot which I could then take. On Saturday night the parking was much better but the dishes remained sweet. We drove from Point Cook to deathly Docklands for sweet dishes – 3 cars. At least we didn’t have to drive them back to Point Cook as the other 2 cars were sufficient.

Those annoying excursions aside, the family time was very good. I guess I have now grown a little older – old enough to be annoyed but to ignore or look beyond these little annoyances and focus instead on the positives of family times, which were very meaningful and fulfilling.

At least on Sunday we were spared the gallivanting across town escapades. We went to Point Cook after church and lunch and stayed there between 1.30 and 8pm, enjoying home cook dinner (Adam’s BKT) which was very good. On the way back from Point Cook last night Tress said she had a great and enjoyable week off. I’m thrilled for her because truth be told – I enjoyed the times I spent with the folks too…

Tress and I couldn’t decide what to do for dinner on Friday so we ended up buying some food from Safeway (cooked chicken and some cheese!) and going home. It was a very relaxing (and cheap) Friday night thing. It was however, the last serene session for the weekend for me, and for the next week for Tress.

Early Sat morning we went to Tullamarine (Auntie Hooi came along) and waited a little bit for the group to arrive. They eventually came out, nearly 2 hours later. Tress’ parents, 2 aunts and an uncle are all here to spend some time with Uncle Jin. We picked them up in 2 cars (Tress drove one and I, the other) and went to Uncle Jin’s home in Point Cook, out in the west.

Uncle Jin is still in the Royal Melbourne, and Auntie Pin is in the city with Sherry and Yin Wei, where she’d be closer to the hospital. The house in Point Cook is left wholly to the Malaysian visitors. When we got to the house, Adam was there waiting and the rooms have been gorgeously prepped. We unloaded the luggage, and made them morning tea. Every time I see Tress’ father, he appears to have aged even more but he looked well and other than being cold, was in good health. They saw Uncle Jin later in the arvo. Tress and I drove back to Blackburn late in the evening, and I walked the little fellow, we fed him and packed some more stuff (mainly warm clothing) for them and then drove back into the city to meet with them for dinner at Adam’s restaurant.

We got home late that night and I managed to catch United’s penultimate home game. Sunderland has been in good form and Giggsy’s second game in charge didn’t end well, with United losing 0-1 and any hope of European football effectively gone. Somehow, a loss like that is no longer too hard to take and I went to bed (around 2am) relatively unscathed.

We left home around 9am the next morning to head towards Point Cook, picked up the precious cargo and headed to the hospital again. It was Uncle Jin’s birthday (4-5-54) and it was the reason the Malaysian folks came. The dinner the previous night was meant to be the birthday dinner party, before he fell a week or so before.

We celebrated anyway, in the visitors’ lounge at the 4th Floor South Wing of the Royal Melbourne. There was a cake and other foods, cards, gifts, etc. We sang him a birthday song, took pictures and listened to his touching speeches. He looked better each time we saw him so in spite of the setback, he is making good progress.

The biggest progress was his salvation. Soon after coming out of his sedation early last week, Auntie Hooi spoke to him and he had made the decision to respond to God’s saving grace. He acknowledged that in his speech and it brought a lot of joy to many, if not all of us, He went back to his bed to rest soon after the celebrations, and we returned to the house in Point Cook. Adam and his wife Fay bought some takeaway lunches, so we ate, some folks played mah-jong and the other just talked. We then went to the Point Cook town centre for some grocery shopping and 4-ee, (Dr Mak’s wife) cooked a delicious pumpkin rice, which I packed for lunch to work today. Tress and I made some veg soup, and helped with the cutting and washing.

I left to go back alone, around 6pm. Tress has taken the week off and would spend most of the week with them. I had wanted to walk the little fellow but it was bucketing down when I reached our part of town. It was then just me and that furry ball, with a few glasses of red. It was a busy but really good weekend.

When I was 18 I had a massive back problem which required extended hospital stay. In the end – after maybe 6 months of being in and out of hospital – I had surgery which fixed the problem. The whole process took some 9-10 months.

Other than the pain and boredom of being in the hospital, the sentiment I experienced was one of depression. I felt depressed. I was enrolled in Taylors’ College in KL, getting ready to come to Australia for my education. The back problem meant that plan was thrown into chaos.

The prolonged process made me wonder if I was going to get well, and what the outlook was going to be like. I wasn’t even sure if I would be able to come to Australia for uni and if I couldn’t, what would be my option? My brother and a cousin had left for the US but I never wanted to go that way. I saw the US as an expensive alternative with no corresponding quality. I didn’t want to head there unless I could make an Ivy League institution which would be far too expensive and I wasn’t sure I was good enough to secure a place anyway.

That sense of “what now”, or “what next” entails hopelessness which was the cause of despair. A prolonged illness and hospital stay often caused that sort of sentiment. I had forgotten that effect, until last night.

Tress came to my office just before 5pm and we both walked up Spring Street towards St Vincent’s where we caught a bus to Royal Melbourne Hospital. Uncle Jin is in the ICU there, after a fall last week which caused a head injury. He has an emergency surgery over the weekend and had been in ICU since.

This is after all the trauma of being diagnosed with cancer and undergoing chemotherapy in recent weeks.

He was responding well to the cancer treatment and we learned last night, that he and Auntie Pin had been traipsing around town to markets, restaurants etc., in anticipation of a birthday party to celebrate his 60th this weekend. It was during a trip to the markets when he fell. It’s a massive setback.

He looked surprisingly well for one who has gone through (and is going through) so much but clearly he was extremely saddened. He wore a gravely saddened look and tears flowed as we talked to him. I asked if he wanted me to pray for him and I did.

Hope and knowledge of where we’re heading, of where salvation lies, are such tonics in life. Other than medical care, Uncle Jin needs both in spades. I’m glad he now has the Holy Spirit in him who can now provide these.

We used to watch the Australian version of the master chef cook show on Channel 10. One of those episodes some time back, was filmed at the Victorian high country. It looked so pretty and attractive. Conversations with friends confirmed we had to check it out and so on Friday morning Tress and I drove to Bright for the long Anzac Day weekend. Jason and Mel came along with us but drove separately in their own car as we had the little furry ball with us and I wasn’t sure they were up to being cooped up in the same car with him for 4 hours.

The distance was about 320-330 km away, north east of Melbourne. It took nearly 4 hours however – partly because once we turned off the Hume at Wangaratta, it was country road and partly also we (I in particular) have become accustomed to driving with much less passion and fervour speed wise. I have come to enjoy a drive without needing to floor the pedal. Maybe it is down to the simple vehicle I could afford – a Nissan X-trail cant gallop like a thoroughbred no matter how lead footed I become. Or it could be an age thing – the days of charging up and down a Malaysian highway doing speeds of up to 180km per hour are truly things of the past. Or maybe it’s the law. Hefty fines aside, the demerit point system is a great encourager of law abiding behaviour on the road.

We left home on Friday morning, just before 10am, and made our way to the Hume. Jason and Mel followed behind. We got to Myrtleford just after lunch, and made a pit stop of sorts. Myrtleford is only about 30km from Bright but we couldn’t check into our little cottage before 2pm anyway so we walked around in Myrtleford, had lunch, and basically took in the beautiful autumn colours of the high country. Towards 2pm we completed the remainder 30km of the drive and got to the cottage.

We had a pleasant surprise. Kaye’s cottage is only minutes away on foot to the town centre, and it was light, clean and airy. It has a beautiful little deck and backyard and a neat little sunroom which Scruffi could wander in. The kitchen too was clean, light and well kitted out.

The only snag was it was a 2 bedroom property and only one room had a double bed with an ensuite. The other room was a 2-single and had to use the property’s other – main – bathroom. I had written an email to Jason and Mel about a week before the trip reminding them of this and giving them the choice of room. They were either too busy or too polite but they never responded to the email on that point.

Notwithstanding this, once we got there they quietly – almost by stealth – opted for the double room with ensuite, without a whisper to us. Ah well, it wasn’t a big deal but for someone who regularly prided himself as “simple, straight forward” this (and other behaviours during the trip) suggests otherwise. It really was and is only a very small matter and it didn’t affect the trip in any way but I cannot deny it confirms for me, that no matter what we profess, reality in the form of actual conduct/behaviour always speaks louder than what we say over dinner tables or write on emails. I would have gladly acceded to their request to use the room had they raised it – like I said I even emailed them a week earlier stating this but they didn’t so much as whisper a word on the matter…

Well we got into Bright town after dropping off our stuff, walked to the town square with a pretty monument where wreaths were placed in memoriam of Anzac Day. The oak/maple trees around the monument were starting to turn shades of gold and red and it was a very pretty sight. We walked by the river, had a beer in the Bright Brewery, and checked out every pretty street. After a little while we started to look for a place for dinner but every decent looking place was booked out. We went back to the cottage and started looking at brochures to ring for reservations but it looked like other than pubs, all other establishments had been fully booked. So we ended up in a pub and had some pizzas, which were also pretty decent.

We went home that night and watched a DVD. “Beyond the Hills”, a Romanian story about abuse of a young lady in an orthodox monastery which killed her. Yet again, it showed how good intention alone can often lead to disastrous results. No one was patently malefide and yet a tragic ending was the result. The ending scene was poignant for me. As the monastery dwellers sat in the van looking into modern civilisation running – simultaneously as a “business as usual” basis as well as rebuilding/reconstruction – the background remains cold and wintery. As they stared into this scene, mud splashed across the windscreen, with the wiper not doing quite enough to clean things away. Great movie, although I doubt my companions enjoyed it.

What they clearly enjoyed were the other two movies we watched – one with Christian Bale in the Nanking massacre setting (Flowers of War) and the other is a Czech holocaust setting with a comedy of sorts thrown in, very cleverly. So a non-conventional foreign language movies weekend it was for us, away in Victorian high country. How very interesting, how very pleasant and memorable.

We got home late on Sunday arvo – just in time for us to watch the final quarter of Hawthorn thrashing the Tigers. It turned out my boss who is a big Tigers fan, was at the match with a few mates all of whom are Hawks fans. Poor him.

The coming weekend, Tress’ family will be visiting from Malaysia. I’m kind of looking forward to that, and sincerely wish Uncle Jin a great 60th birthday celebration.

I was a little bit excited this morning, as I looked forward to watching the champions’ league semi-final match between Real Madrid and Bayern Munich. We used to have battle royals with these teams in Europe but alas, post Fergie we are now likely to not even be in Europe, let alone play in the ECL. Moyes’ departure has generated many column inches too and whoever comes in to replace him has a huge rebuilding task – something Fergie could not do in his final years, probably due to a restrained budget.

I was going to watch the second half of the game on the cross trainer in the gym this morning, and as I waited for the train, I stole glances at the live report on the BBC app.

And then… the train stalled at Laburnum, a little station just before Box Hill. A couple of minutes later the driver made an announcement that there has been yet another intrusion into the tracks. A lady was threatening self harm and police were on the scene. The train ended up delayed, and it changed plans to head into Flinders directly and bypassed the city loop. I had to get off at Richmond and wait for another train – all in a 20 minute delay.

To top it off, for one reason or another, the tv on the cardio machines couldn’t get SBS this morning so I ended up watching a grand total of maybe 10 seconds of highlight on the ABC news.

So I was a little annoyed. What stayed in my mind though, were thoughts about that woman on the tracks, and the apparent increased occurrence of such events. It must have been the third time this year, where someone got onto the train tracks and train schedules and operations were messed up as a result. I said a prayer for that woman this morning. Life must have become so confused, so tangled and so difficult generally, for someone to contemplate that. What events could have triggered that outcome? Did she have no one to turn to? To be sure, thoughts about being under the influence of alcohol or drugs crossed my mind. But those could be the symptoms and not the cause. Even if drugs and alcohol brought this on, one probably still has to work out what those triggers might have been. Or could drugs and alcohol actually be the cause?

I wondered how many lives were affected other than that lady’s. On the platform at Richmond station, two men donning Australia Post tradies’ garbs made calls saying they would be late. Several other people were on the phone. Me missing that Real Madrid game really should pale into complete insignificance. Almost certainly however, none of the resultant inconveniences would have stacked up against that lady’s challenges. I also wondered if life in the suburbs of Melbourne has generally become more challenging for some. Why is there an escalation of such incidents? Or is there? It may just be my perception. I may be growing old and grumpy and taking more notice of such disruptions to my commuting. But then again there really could be an escalation of such incidents. If indeed there has been an escalation, why? How can I, how can the church, make a difference?