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!
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!
