Tuesday, 30 October 2012

Making a Cuppa

Last weekend, after a big Saturday night of partying, I couldn't sleep. 
So, just before 5am, I took off for home, prepared to put my insomnia to use & get the housework, etc done.

On the way though, I thought of Mum. I hadn't seen her for a few days (unusual for us) so I decided to call & see if she felt like an early morning cuppa. I woke her up. She loved it. 
10 minutes later I came barreling into my childhood home, noisy & full of energy on a Sunday morning. My Step-Dad, Bob, loved it too. 
I made the early morning disturbance up to them by grabbing the morning paper on my way in. Hehe.
I lived in this house from birth until I was almost 19. It will always be home. I always feel like I can go there, I know where everything is & still have the mindless habit of checking the pantry or fridge for something to munch on - though, since I've left, there is no longer anything I would ever eat.
I went about making Mum, Bob & I a cuppa while they dragged themselves out of bed. Growing up, I would make my breakfast cup of tea with the sun coming through the kitchen blinds, listening to the birds chirp while surrounded by the smell of the morning -always fresh & relaxing at Mum's. It had been a long time since I had done this! Nostalgia set in... I was overcome with the urge to cry. This was, at one point in my life, complete happiness & contentment. I was suddenly 12, gearing up for a chapter of Harry Potter & Vegimite Toast before school time.
The moment seemed to go as quickly as it came... Leaving such a light, happy feeling in it's wake. For something that had happened in a matter of seconds, it made a lasting impression in my mind & spirit.
There was a sense of wholeness & rightness to doing this very simple task, in this place, at this time of day.

So, is it just me or have others had experiences like this? What was yours?

Monday, 1 October 2012

A few more stories...

I'd never really known my Uncle Gary. He was my uncle by marriage & had split with my Aunt when I was too young to remember. I knew of him as my cousin's father & that was about the extent of it.

Last year, my cousin got married & I met Uncle Gary (properly) for the first time.
Instantly it was an easy relationship - Talking, laughing, relaxing.

So this year, on a trip to visit my cousin in Moura I had the opportunity to spend a bit more time with my Uncle Gary... I chattered away to him at dinner with my cousin & his family. Played pool & had a few drinks at the bowls club. What most caught my interest though, was when I joined him on a couple of runs in his truck, from the quarry to the roadworks & back.

It's not an overly long run, but just long enough that there were moments of silence in the cab. Completely comfortable silence. Not something that comes easy to such a new relationship with anyone. 
Besides that, Uncle Gary told me stories. Lots of little, random stories from his life. Living out in northern Western Australia. Trips overseas to Bali. Jobs he had as a cook & a truckie. I enjoyed every single story & wanted to know more. Some people should really write books about their lives. As far as I'm concerned, Uncle Gary is one of those people.

Unfortunately I had to cut my trip short & come back home but can't wait to go back again. Hopefully I'll get to spend more time with Uncle Gary now that I finally know him, and hear a few more stories.