Mel's Resolve

I was truly amazed when Mel sent me a text today saying she had lost more weight.  Goodness me, it's Christmas week!  I had expected the kilos to be piling on and the excuses flying.  Not my Mel.  She is stubborn, creative and refuses to be defeated. 
I thought about this but only for a minute.  Why wouldn't Mel have a concrete resolve?  Her history tells the story.
At the tiny age of 19 months she  went from healthy baby to having chronic asthmatic.  She fought tooth and nail to breath.  At only 2 years she struggled when a male nurse laid her on his lap and held an oxygen mask over her nose and mouth.  She struggled not only for breath but to escape her captive.  Within the following ten years she had been admitted to hospital over forty times and twice in ICU.
She struggled for every breath in ICU, she fought and never gave up.  At home she used a portable nebuliser and a range of puffers and medications.  Winter was always worse as a cold would start her wheezing and coughing.  In spring it was pollen but it was also wool, dust mite and peanuts which exacerbated her lungs to induce wheezing.
The asthma diminished at the age of twelve but at fifteen she became ill with pneumonia and stress and psychosis raised its ugly head.  Mel's 16th birthday was celebrated as the trauma began and she spent six weeks in a mental health ward thereafter. 
There were many horrendous mental health episodes which we all dealt with until she was 22 when her medication was successfully changed.  We all had to deal with it but it happened to Mel.  It was her resolve to deal with all of this trauma and do it successfully, which has given her the edge in life.
Twenty years later she has battled with her weight as her medication stimulates her appetite and she didn't have the strategies to combat it.  Now we have an exclusive good eating and exercise plan and Mel has lost over 12 kilos in sixteen weeks. 
Yes, Mel is a fighter, an achiever against adversity.  I am very proud of our Mel.

My Missing Car

I walked out of the shopping centre and turned left.  I looked for my car and stopped.  Where was it?  I'm sure I parked it right there but instead an older but pretty sleek looking machine took up the space!  It wasn't mine.  I wondered if the champagne I had drunk earlier had impaired my senses!
Only this morning I had attended a, 'Celebration of Life' for a man with Huntington's Disease (HD).  He had died of a major stroke.  He attended the weekly day centre which Merv attends and his lovely wife attends the carer support group which I attend.  We are connected.  The celebration was just what is said.  His brother, best friend and children spoke as well as Liz from our Huntington's Association.  I hardly knew him but I soon found out what an amazing man he was.  I wish I had taken the time to know him personally.  He was also a man who enjoyed his morning tea just like Merv.  After the celebration which was held in a function centre overlooking the Swan River we were treated to sandwiches, mini quiches, scones with jam and cream and tiny cakes.  We washed everything down with either; a cuppa, beer, wine or champagne.  I drank both coffee and champagne and ate most of what was offered.  The celebration was both joyful and comforting.  We talked, we hugged and those who knew him told tales of fun and hilarity.
Back to my predicament. I reviewed my parking;  yes I had parked next to Myer and knew which entrance I had entered, there are three different entrances!  I didn't panic, I searched high and low.  I walked to the extremes of the car park and I couldn't find my precious Ellie (car). 
I had twenty minutes to get home so the support worker could leave.  So what did I do?  I panicked! I rang son, Dustin as he works close by.  He was of course at work and I pleaded my case with his message bank.  Then I rang home and asked the support worker to sit Merv in front of the TV and press the button on the wooden door as she exited if I was late.
Then I hollered in delight.  I had found my little Ellie.  She was sitting patiently just waiting for me in exactly the parking space I had left her!  I had made the mistake of turning left instead of right as I exited Myer.  I was so relieved and really didn't care what other shoppers thought of me with the umpteen shopping bags wandering aimlessly around the gigantic car park!
Dustin rang just at the moment I slid into the driver's seat and I giggled like a girl telling him his Mum was just a little disorientated with the Christmas rush.  I'm sure he was relieved he didn't have to rescue me.
Fortunately I arrived home in time for the support worker to leave.  Phew, another day survived without too much drama!

Our Loss

She never rings to ask me how I am but she did last week.  I lied and said I was fine.  I couldn't tell her over the phone the news I had heard only an hour beforehand. 
I had cried while standing at the sink.  I didn't want Merv to see me but what could I do, it was most unexpected.
I had rang to make an appointment with my GP.  It was Saturday morning and I was thinking of a quiet time mid-week to catch up with her news and share mine.  My GP and me go back a long time. Maybe fifteen years or more.  She also sees Mel and we chat about all sorts of things, many not medical related! 
When I last took Mel to have her prescriptions updated a few months ago she at once asked me how my fundraising walk across England had gone.  She was impressed and I had hoped to catch up with a bit more news but it was never going to happen.
The girl on the end of the phone told me Dr Rimmer had died.  I took a moment thinking she had her wired crossed and explained I wanted to make an appointment to see my GP.  "I'm sorry, she has passed away" she replied.  I asked what had happened but she said she couldn't give me any details.
I made an appointment to see another GP at the centre who I had seen before.  The tears swelled in my eyes as I finished the call and escaped to the kitchen to grieve silently.
It wasn't long before Mel rang and I feigned happiness but later told her she must have picked up my grief in the spirit.  I couldn't tell Mel over the phone. I needed to tell her face to face.  I needed to feel her emotions and hug her as she cried. 
I arrived at the medical centre as planned and I requested my prescription update as I had planned.  She was orderly and I didn't mention the demise of my GP but I didn't wait long before she became to talk about Dr Rimmer's sudden and expected death.  I asked if my doctor had a heart attack (my hairdresser said she had) but she merely said they didn't know. 
Her husband had passed away and she lived a long way out and missed him.  I thought about what she said in the following days and wondered if she had just had enough and chose to join him?  She was only 64, a woman with many years ahead in today's world. 
I will never know, even in today's world it is not something which is openly discussed especially when the person is much loved and respected professional. People often think we're ok, when we're not.  Was it like that for her?
I had not known my GP had worked tirelessly with domestic violence victims on the days she was not working at my local centre.  She had also worked in mental health which was the reason Mel didn't find another GP when she left home. They shared a special bond.
We will miss her.  Her family will miss her.  She will be greatly missed by many.

Revising My Role

It's been awhile since I began blogging.  It started as a way to share and vent my experiences as a carer.  My husband has Huntington's Disease.  It is a rare disease and progressive.  He will never get better.  My life as a carer is continuously changing.  My emotions don't, they continue to be raw.

There are many things I miss.  I reminisce when Merv would help me with Mel.  He would drive her somewhere she needed to go whether it was an appointment or a social engagement.  He would pop into the shop and buy milk (never bread, as he worked in a bakery!)  He dug holes in the garden under my supervision and did all the hard work in the garden.  He scaled ladders and made jokes.  He made me smile, he made me laugh and we planned our immediate future, for we knew it could stop suddenly and it did.

Life isn't all bad!

I thought only today - if I was in a working environment how would my annual carer appraisal look?  No one appraises me.  The government continues to pay a carer/disability pension to us.  Community services continue to provide services.  There is an annual review of services provided but it's for Merv not for me! 

Friends and relatives continue to state after popping in for a cuppa; "Merv is looking good!"  Sure, he's just sitting there, maybe he adds to the conversation but mostly he's quiet.  They're not there while I'm washing, dressing and grooming him.  They're not there while I'm preparing meals, doing the washing and sorting the budget.  I'm a one man band. 

They don't drive him anywhere or deal with pushing his wheelchair.  They don't stay home at night every night and most days like we do because it just gets too hard and it's easier not to go out.  I talk to Merv about everyday things including the kids.  He doesn't answer me, so I just rattle on for there is no one else to talk to. 

At least when he has his iPad blaring with his favourite tunes he sings along keeping himself busy while I'm hanging out washing, stacking the dishwasher and wondering when I can set him up in front of the TV so I can walk down the shops as we have ran out of milk today.

I miss working.  It was structured.  I had a time to begin and a time to stop.  I didn't really care if I stopped for lunch and the work was interesting because it was about people I didn't take home with me!

I don't ask anyone to assess my work as Merv's primary carer.  I know I'm doing a good job because he tells me almost every day that he loves me.  It is enough to get me out of bed each morning and start the day afresh.

Celebrating Father's Day this month

 

Challenge and Goal Achieved

The group of carers sat in a circle waiting for me to make a statement.  I had twirled my response around in my head beforehand but sometimes I just say whatever pops up.  Not always a good strategy.  I replied, "If you're planning a fundraiser for Huntington's WA, hiking across England is a good way to go!  We raised $6,500.  Then I filled them in with what I saw, how I felt and what happened.

I've been home for over a month and this story has rewritten itself a dozen times.  Now I will just put it together and hand it over to you.  I still wake and wonder if my sisters and I walked across England. 

Did we do it?
Yes we did! 

Was it difficult? 
Yes it was!

Was it an amazing adventure?
Every minute of every day!

We put together a day by day diary version of our 13day adventure on our Facebook page.  You can read it and see our amazing photos:  www.facebook.com/walkforhuntingtons




Maureen, Susan and Pamela at St Bees beginning our adventure
 

Our goal was to walk from St Bees in Cumbria to Robin Hood's Bay in Yorkshire over 13 days, which we did.  It was harder than what I thought and I knew it would be difficult.  These short legs of mine aren't exactly built for mountainous hills and thousands of rocky steps or steep descents.  Even short legs can do amazing things and they trudged up countless hills and painstakingly descended sideways on the other side.

It was a time I found out how amazing my little sister Maureen is.   As I plodded with only a distant view of the group Maureen stopped and walked by my side.  Each day she was there encouraging me up those damn hills and making jokes on the way down.  I still laugh when I remember she had her camera ready to catch me fall down one of those steep descends only to put it away and down I slipped amongst the rocks.  I don't know who laughed the loudest! 

The English landscape is amazingly different from Australia and nothing was more capturing than being high on a hill or ridge-top looking down over paddocks, green and yellow pastures and quaint historic villages.  I think we saw almost every type of sheep and cow there is in England and climbed stiles embedded in dry stone walls.  We viewed beautiful lakes and tarns (summit lakes) in Cumbria and the beginning of the heather in flower in Yorkshire. 



Kirby Stephens almost half way through our journey.  We had walked 82 miles already

On the very last day the mist was low over the Yorkshire moors and I felt like a character in a novel.  Who would we find murdered on the moors among the mist with Poirot in pursuit?  Fortunately the mist soon cleared and we were on the homeward stretch to Robin Hood's Bay.  As we continued our approach on the headland I stopped in my tracks.  Before me beckoned the calm blue North Sea and the little village of Robin Hood's Bay propped up like a postcard.  My eyes misted up as the realisation of walking from the Irish Sea to the North Sea became a near reality.  It was a moment which will stay with me forever.

In hindsight the hard work wasn't just on the hiking trail.  It began twelve months beforehand with setting up the Facebook page and contacting everyone we knew to encourage them to donate.  There were flyers to make, T shirts to design and ongoing training to complete.  It's been a very full year and I wouldn't change any of it.  How many of us at 58 take off half way around the world and walk across England?  An amazing challenge, will you take it on?  Whether you walk across a country or do something else equally as amazing.  The challenge is to plan it and just do it.  It may not change your life but you never know it might do just that!

Robin Hood's Bay at the North Sea.  We did it!  190 miles (304kms)

Almost Packed, Almost There

In less than 24 hours I will be jetting off to the UK with my two sisters.  Merv is already in respite but it took me days to get him ready.  I don't know why but finally he is there and I can clean up the house.  I washed the car.  I don't know why.  I have yet to pack my suitcase.  There doesn't seem to be enough room for all my clothes in that tiny case.  There are hiking clothes, boots and walking poles to pack.
This threatens to be short but I have such little time.
Our UK holiday is a 13 day hike west to east across England.  We are raising funds for Huntington's WA.  Already we have surpassed our total with $5,500.  Our walk is raising awareness as well as funds. 

Follow us on Facebook to see great pics and follow our challenging journey.

Our hike begins Sunday 5th July 2015

Find us on www.face.com/walkforhuntingtons

make a donation:   https://give.everydayhero.com/au/WalkForHuntingtons

Coast to Coast Walk North England

In the Fast Lane

I pay for my groceries at my local supermarket while my mind works out where I have parked my car.  Front or back of the supermarket? I ask myself.  Then I remember (thank goodness) I walked to the shop, no car.  I juggle my groceries in my 2 bags and head home.  Merv is watching his favourite footy team and I hope to see at least a little of the game.

I have a list.  A list for almost everything and all my lists are in one A4 book.  I can't do it without this book of mine.  After unpacking the groceries I flip open my book and cross of a number of items.  Things I need for Merv's upcoming monthly respite.  Boring but essential things like a new battery operated toothbrush.  I've already been to the chemist and bought the shower wash and creams.  The biggest bottles I could purchase to last the whole month.

Back to work, no matter how many drawers and cupboards I clean and tidy I find another yelling out for attention.  I obey and I wonder how many other things I could possibly find.

My bizarre behaviour may well be understood.  I am going to England for four weeks.  Merv is in respite while I am away.  Dustin and Grace are staying each weekend in my house while I am away and they have invited Mel to stay also.   Not only am I going to the UK for four weeks but my two sisters and I are walking the famed Coast to Coast walk; west to east across England. It is a challenging 13 day 304km walk.



Coast to Coast walk  England (west to east)

Our plan is to raise awareness and funds for Huntington's WA.  Merv has Huntington's disease.  Yes, the reason for the lists and the book!  I sigh and visualise myself sitting on the Emirates flight as it takes off into the darkness of night over Perth.  Whatever isn't done won't get done, but I know I will relax so much easier if it is!
There is still so much to do.  Meetings for Merv, meetings for Melanie and new physio classes for Merv to attend for the next ten weeks.  Support workers are now needed to assist him to attend while he’s in respite.

All my lists lay idle yesterday as I took myself to the out of hours GP at the local hospital.  My body is complaining and my mouth in infected for the third time in six months.  I have no time to waste but explain my dilemma to the doctor.  He writes me a script for ‘knock you out’ antibiotics.  Take with food the pharmacist suggests.  I head to the supermarket and buy food.  I don't really need more food but I buy it anyway.  Dustin is staying for dinner.  His lovely wife is at work.  I am glad he called in (to pick something up but at least he's happy to stay and watch yesterday's footy game with Merv while I go to the doctor).   Dustin cooks the dessert and after I eat cheese, crackers and chocolate I swallow my tablet and keep going.  There is no time to waste. 

I looked in the mirror only the other day.  I thought; WOW, finally I have a flat tummy (or as flat as its ever going to be).  All those Fitbox classes have finally paid off.  I continue to scale awkward rocky hills, trudge beaches of white loose sand and even virgin bush.  We battled our way without a path to guide me.  Have I ever been this fit?  I don't think so and I rather like the achievement.  The old saying; 'no pain, no gain' sings in my head. 

Last night I sat and watched the well know Julia Bradbury walking the 304km Coast to Coast trek.  She makes it look rather easy.  I imagine myself in our cosy group of 12 hikers and guide, crossing bridges, jumping rocks and climbing hills to see the many lakes of Cumbria shimmering below.  Julia talks about her sore feet but I choose not to listen.   I add a blister pack to one of my book lists.  I already have Tiger Balm recommended by my podiatrist.  It's ready to pack.

The antibiotics are working their magic today and tomorrow I will be back training either in the gym or on a bush track.  England here we come!

Join us on our amazing adventure on Facebook: www.facebook.com/walkforhuntingtons

Donations can be made through Everyday Heroes.  All donations go directly to Huntington's WA

 https://give.everydayhero.com/au/WalkForHuntingtons

The Lake District in Cumbria

Forward Thinking

I smile as I remember Merv tucking into a big hearty well done steak.  Just the way he liked it with a big splattering of tomato sauce and a stack of crispy chips with plenty of salt.  I have lots of these memories.  Would there have been any joy if I had recorded the last time he had tucked into a steak?  Probably not but it annoys me I can't remember.

In the last few months I have been keeping my head firmly in the sand. Little changes happen and go unnoticed and then suddenly the realisation happens too late.

Merv has struggled with dysphagia since last June.  It began with choking on plain old water, but he did it well.  After several frightening choking episodes, we used a cup which delivered a controlled amount of fluids before trading the cup for, 'safe straws.'   They are big and chunky and need a decent size cup to hide the cylinder which houses the controlled amount of fluid.

The good thing is that they work.  He may cough and splutter at times but the spine chilling gasping for breath is no longer part of our day or week.  I am very grateful.

Yesterday he choked on his rissole.  My heart sank as I grabbed his knife and fork from his hands, stood behind him and used the flat of my hand to whack him between the shoulder blades. It worked.  I heard the food dislodge in his throat.  I was talking slowly and reassuring as I removed his plate with the half eaten rissole dinner and replaced it with a bowl of vanilla ice cream. 

There it was.  All those memories of Merv tucking into steak dinners, lamb cutlets and ribs come back to tease me.  He will never tuck into such delights again.  Long ago we gave up buying his much loved liquorice allsorts, peanuts and Rocky Road.  Custard, ice cream and cheesecake are now Merv’s regular desserts.  I smile; for cheesecake is one of his favourite desserts and it’s still on the menu!

I email his speech pathologist and she suggests all of his food is cut into small pieces and he uses a teaspoon.  She is young and this is her job, but does she really understand?

I think of the steak and the hundreds of times we have enjoyed a meal out.  Eating out with a spoon, pretending you are enjoying mish-mashed food, it's just not the same.

Never to be beaten I analyse the situation and think of the many dishes he will enjoy.  At the day centre they no longer allow him to have fish and chips.  Today it was lasagne.  Nice and soft and easy to eat.  A great choice, I can work with that.  Thick soups, sloppy mince and mountains of casserole recipes.  He struggled recently with stir fry and he doesn't like curry very much.

I'll take my time and wade through the recipes which overflow in my bookcase.   I know it won’t last long.  Soon it will mean everything mashed and blended.  In the meantime I'll make lasagne, thick soup and buy more custard. 

On the positive side Merv is still mentally active and is aware of everything in his day.  At times while I am running around in a fog, he will surprise me by gently reminding me of something!  I am reassured not all is lost.

Angel in the Night

The blackness of the night engulfs me as I sit upright staring ahead and hoping the road will not disappear on me.  I am driving in a 110km per hour stretch with just a slice of the moon to keep me company.  It provides no light to guide me. 

I was not only one hour late in dropping Merv off to his respite centre at 3pm. I then lost another hour when the freeway was closed due to a local scrub fire.  I rang Dustin to help me but in the end I just followed the cars in front and hoped for the best.  I was relieved when I ended up past the fire and only a few kms from the nearest entrance back onto the freeway.  The shadows were already long and the sun fearfully low in the sky.  I rang the carer’s retreat organiser telling her of my predicament.  She suggested I take my time; which I did.

The freeway was far behind and I had my foot on the accelerator for over two hours at 110kmph.  The dual carriageway was dotted with a few cars and trucks. My CD blasted my favourite 70's music. Slowly the twilight disappeared and the cloak of darkness enveloped me.

I slowed at the many bends and sign posts.  I was doing well until I came to the Busselton turn off.  The road narrowed to one lane each way with overtaking lanes every so many kms.  Confident drivers whizzed by me but I had no plan to follow.  I had expected to arrive long before dark.

Then an angel appeared.  Not the white robe and wings style of angel but a big chunky truck with the huge red reflectors on its back doors at eye level. My God send was chugging along between 80-90kmph.  I happily chugged behind allowing those big red eyes to guide me around the corners and bends.  It was a relief to finally reach my destination without incident.

Some of my friends who had arrived hours earlier later told me they were praying for my safe arrival!

My trauma was soon replaced with fun, relaxing, strolls along the beach, good food and sunset parties and  plenty of sharing.  It was worth the trauma of the darkness of the night. 

Sculptures in the Sand

I remember last year. We didn't go, I don't remember why. Maybe we had just returned from an amazing week's holiday.  Maybe we were busy.

Last week I decided it was time to do it again. I planned the day. Firstly I got Mel onside. It was great for her to have an outing but I also needed her as a back up with Merv.  Mel was happy with my plan and she stayed over last night to ensure an early get away.

The weather was warm, the sky vivid blue without a cloud.  We were ten minutes late leaving and every traffic light was red! The traffic, way past rush hour was still bumper to bumper on the busy roads and highway. An hour later we crawled into a disability car park space and unloaded the wheelchair.

We applauded the crosswalk which stopped the traffic stream long enough for us to cross.  Mel was the first to call out in excitement as she spotted a scattering of sculptures on the sand scattered below the walkway leading us to our destination. 



Merv & Mel in front of Giant Baby

Along with hundreds of other visitors I stop Merv in his wheelchair and turn him to allow him to view the cubby house and a metal wiry thing. It looks like construction had halted without notice. I take a photo anyway.  I later find it is named: 'House of mirrors.' I grunt; fooled me!

There is a naked man sprawled casually on the grass in front of the pavilion.  Fortunately he is shiny red and part of the exhibition.  I take another photo and the fun begins.

I am 60kgs and Merv is almost 90kgs. I am so relieved Merv's chair has hand brakes as I manoeuvre his heavy load down a descent and quickly straighten up to access the winding path.

The huge faceless babies are right in front of us.  They have been part of the advertising and the camera comes out again.  It isn't until we go on a path behind we realise there are three giant babies crawling across the grass, bottoms up!

3 Fat Men - Is this a step forward?

We pass three small fat men striding together. They are also someone's creation which is named: 'Is this a step forward?'  I chose not to consider an answer!.

We pass a number of sculptures and we spy a ring of 'Man on ball.'  They (more than one man) are sitting in a circle in deep contemplation.  I slide the wheelchair between two of the


little men and snap photos.


Winding path to the beach area

I send Mel ahead to check the accessibility of the downward path.  We conclude it is wheelchair friendly.  I use the brakes to slow us and decide not to dwell on the thought of pushing Merv back up!

The Red Flamingos

I easily reach the open space below and we marvel at the flock of red flamingos in the crystal white sand.  They could pass for red swans from a distance.

I use the zoom lens; we aren't going to risk a walk on the sand. There is a huge patch of half buried fitness balls of various colours.  Sculpture? probably not, anything goes. The artists are local, interstate and international.

 

There are numerous school groups, senior groups, families, couples and singles on the sand.  The school groups have clipboards and worksheets.  It is great to see some of the artists entertaining them with their stories of their creations.  We continue on our journey.

 

The path changes and so does the gradient. The wheelchair grumbles and threatens to roll over in the sand. A couple passing by offer their help and the man grabs the chair and we reverse back to the more even path.  The sculptures along the missed path are easily seen from the path above the beach path.

 

I had hoped to see the sculptures on the 100 metre groyne.  It is only accessible via the sand and a variety of steps.  I use the zoom lens to capture the big pink blow up. Is it a rabbit or a mouse? I don't know. It is the only thing on the groyne which stands out from a distance.

The Pink Blow Up on the groyne.  What is it?

 

 

The groyne so far away, Pink blow up easily seen here

The heat is increasing and there is nothing else we can see up close.  We make our way to Beaches Cafe for a welcome morning tea.  It's a small area but we find a table which we manoeuvre the chair to.  Merv enjoyed a cupcake and spearmint milk while I had a much needed coffee.  Mel and I had a date slice each.

Home we go with mostly green lights!

The Wedding

 Magazines are full of wedding stories where something goes wrong or the bride or groom have second thoughts and never show.   The magazines can keep their stories. 

I know I'm bragging but it was a perfect wedding on a perfect day on Saturday 31^st January.

Grace and Dustin were the model bride and groom and everyone said so on the day.  It certainly was a warm day but the clouds kept the sun cooler and the rain stayed away.

I started the day with a stroll around the resort with Dustin and a relaxing swim in the pool before waking Merv and the day started rolling.

It was with trepidation I asked Dustin to take Merv and Mel out while I decorated the 84 cupcakes! I had imagined he had far more important things to take care of but he was happy to help out.  By 9:30am I had the unit to myself with my cakes, buttercream, piping nozzles and my favourite music on my iPad.  I cleared my mind, started my music and remembered the all-important You Tube video.  "The piping nozzle is held directly over the middle of the cake, touch the cake with the nozzle - let it kiss the cake."  I kissed every single cupcake before perfecting the swirl and balancing a sugar flower on top!  Perfecto.  All done in just under two hours.

The rest of the day flew past and by 2:30pm Dustin, his Best Man and Groomsman were running more than fifteen minutes late.  Finally they are on their way and at last we could use the bathrooms!

While straightening Mel's hair (bless her hairdresser who suggested we straighten her gloriously curly hair), shaving Merv I finished checking my list, everything was complete.

It's closer to 4pm than 3:30pm and we are outside the function room at the resort.  The extended family is already there, it is us who are late.  Grace is due to walk down the red carpet at 4pm!

Everything goes to plan.  Dustin and his two mates are standing at attention while everyone is seated. Grace appears like an angel in her beautiful bridal gown walking down the aisle on the arm of her uncle.  The delightfully cute little flower girls walk ahead scattering rose petals on the floor preparing the path for Grace.

There are almost tears as she flows gracefully to join hands with her groom.  They clutch hands tightly and stagger over their words at time.  We all smile, most of us have been there before!  It is a beautiful sensitive Christian ceremony and before long the Pastor announces them, Husband and Wife.  I catch my breath, it is completed and they are now one.

The newlyweds disappear for photos with the bridal party while we make ourselves comfortable in the resort's restaurant celebrating with drinks and helping ourselves to canapés.

The sky clouds over and the night sky hides the sun as we find our tables in the reception room.  Little jars of bright blue lollies on the tables are tied with ribbons with our names displayed.  No silly name place cards in sight!

I help organise the cupcakes on the cupcake stand, much to younger sister's horror.  I know she wants to pull me by the arm and let the staff arrange the cakes, but I ignore her concerns.  I am happy with the presentation and within minutes a swarm of camera wielding guests begin snapping away and oohing and arrh-ing.  I have thoughts of the buttercream melting and ending on the floor but I dismiss the thought and just enjoy the celebration.

Dustin and Grace reappear in the foyer and we arrange a family photo before they make their grand entrance into the reception room.  Oh photograph memories...I love them.

The buffet is in full swing and a little food is good as I have already had a couple of Moscato's.  The buffet is well thought of with a selection of salad, pork or lamb roast and numerous vegetable dishes. 

The speeches are next and while Dustin has been fretting about his for the last few weeks, I am sure I hear him breathe a sigh of relief when he is finished without faltering.  We toast the bride and the bridesmaids.  There are more speeches and praying over the happy couple.

The top cake of the wedding cake looks wonderful with the wedding toppers.  Dustin and Grace pretend to cut the cake for the photos.  The staff distributes my cupcakes and the compliments start flying.  I breathe a sigh of relief, everything is good. Dessert is served and we take advantage of cheesecake, mousse and pavlova.  Why not, it'll be back to jelly and custard tomorrow night!

The night finishes with dancing.  Grace and Dustin take to the dance floor and we are thrilled they have practised as they treat us to amazing swirls and twirls and some very fancy foot work! 

Merv and I get up and shuffle.  It's too hard to dance like we used to, but I place Merv's hands around my waist and move to the music.  After he returns to his seat, younger sister, myself and lots of young people are stomping along to the beat of  the YMCA and various other well-known songs.

It's been a long day and finally we head back to our unit 100m away. 

It has been a very happy day. 

Congratulations Dustin and Grace, we know it will last forever.

Beware Hazard Ahead

Dustin and Grace are marrying this Saturday. I have finally bought my dress.  I have numerous things sorted and the sky ahead appeared bright and blue.  I am a list person.  I have a list for just about everything to do with the wedding and our preparation.  Not that I am particularly involved.  I am baking and decorating the cupcakes. Besides being the parents of the groom there are no other demands on us.

Today was perfect weather for baking and this afternoon I  had baked 52 fluffy white wedding cupcakes.  Tomorrow I will bake the remaining 30 or so.  I delighted in my baking tasks, all of which went like clockwork.  Goodness me, my last trial only last week was a horrifying disaster but the hazards were eliminated and today was a breeze.  My freezer now hums and bulges with trays of ready to decorate cupcakes.  The cute baking cups are uniquely tall with silver flecks on sapphire blue.  I picture them on the home made cupcake stand which is adorned with white rose trimming.  A lovely thought but it will have to wait until Saturday.

Yes the wedding is on Saturday and everything was rosy and humming along nicely.  That was until Mel rang me last night! 
"Listen to me, mum," she cried. 
I stopped in my busyness and listened.  What horrid news was she about to dump on me? 
"I am moving on Tuesday," she continued.  "To another unit, just down the road!"

I froze, I could neither move nor speak.  I could only remember the last two times she moved.  The first time the Support Worker said he would help her move.  At 6pm, after I had worked all day she had rang and said the SW was cooking the barbeque and couldn't help.  I took Merv with me and three hours later with Mel’s help I had moved everything into her new unit.  Everything was just dumped on the floor in boxes. It was such a mess I took Mel home with me before returning the next day to sort it out.  It was another six hours later before the unit appeared liveable.

Twelve months later and she was moving again, back to the unit she had previously left.  This time it wasn't quite as bad, but it still took many hours to sort out her belongings. I had rang my older sister in despair.  She found me standing motionless amongst an avalanche of stuff, needing someone to encourage me.  She didn't stay long, she was busy elsewhere.

Now it is about to happen all over again.  This is what I said:
"Your brother is getting married next weekend; I am baking and decorating 80 cupcakes.  I have so much to do before the wedding and even packing bags and cakes to stay at the resort for two nights is taking all my time.  YOU CAN NOT MOVE THIS WEEK, do you HEAR me?"  I repeated it again, just in case she didn't.

She did.  She went very quiet for at least two seconds and simply said, "It's OK mum, I will move the following week."

I am not looking forward to it, but it's not about me.  Every mum knows they just want their kids to be happy!

No Pain No Gain

I cheekily hopped into bed last night.  I was bragging to myself that my morning of Fitbox and yoga had no effect on this old body of mine. 

After what I thought was a good night’s sleep I awoke, rolled over and I felt I had been hit by a  train!  Everything hurt.  I rolled out of bed.  I groaned.  I moaned a little more.  There was a big day ahead. 

What had I done yesterday?  For the first time in many years there I was running, yes running around the room with girls so much younger than me!  There were repeated push ups, mountain striding (an exercise on all fours) plus boxing and kicking exercises on the punch bag.  I hadn't done that before!

Just to be smart I followed my Fitbox lesson with a yoga class.  Mel had already done her session in the gym and joined me for the yoga class. I've never done yoga before and neither had Mel. I know Mel had done one class of Pilates a few months ago and never went back.

The supple young instructor started our lesson with soothing music and relaxation.  Easy I thought.  Lying on my back for an hour, I could do that.  Then all sorts of crazy things began to happen.  There was the downward dog and other weird names for body positions I haven't done since I was seven.  I am sure we did each of them a hundred times.  There were balancing acts which involved getting up from lying position on the mat to standing in one fluid move.  I could only achieve it by; stumble, pull, stumble, wince (mutter) and rock into what appeared a balanced action.  At least I hoped.  The end result was the same but it included five extra steps!  Mel was contorted uncomfortably.  I thought to myself it will get better for her.  By the time we had finished I thought a swim in the pool would suit her much better. 

The hour passed as I checked my watch.  Surely it would finish soon?  Everyone was in deep relaxation.  I was thinking about what to have for lunch.  We were instructed to straddle our body up against the wall with our head on the floor and our feet half way up the wall.  Everyone was relaxing and thinking happy thoughts, except for Mel who looked at me sideways and grimaced.  I had no idea how I was going to get down.  I hoped no one was looking as I uncurled myself with a thud!  It was now thirty minutes past the hour.  I was bored and I tried convincing myself it could only get better.  As we finally finished I was the first through the door with my mat under my arm.  I didn't stop to wonder if my mat would ever touch that floor again.  I have a week to convince myself to return.  It can only get better, or not!