The Bridesmaid: Piece 12

gumboots and bridesmaids
With Shelley and one my other Bridesmaids.

I had three bridesmaids, three of them I went to college with, and two of them ended up at the same university as me.

I lost touch with all of them partly due to my family’s relentless shifts and moves, but also through their relentless shifts and moves. I thought this would be forever, until, as is often the case today, I rediscovered Shelley on facebook.

Her surname hadn’t changed which made it easier, and she accepted my friend request.

I did the usual and sent a note to see how she was, and checked out her photographs. I sent her a bit of news. I heard some of hers.

However, one day I found out she was moving up the road to Cairns, just a couple of hundred kilometres from me. ‘Why not meet up?’ I suggested.

It took a while with our busy schedules, and she had two young children and was working and I had three older kids and was doing an arts project, but eventually the day came for a catch up with my bridesmaid, her kids and my family.

We met at the beach and went for a walk with her kids. They were just little darlings. My children are older, but quite nurturing and were happy to play with them.

As we talked and walked I realised how different it can be to be with people who have known you through your toughest times versus people who have just met you.

There were so many things I need not say to my bridesmaid, about college, our university days, about the sorrows of one of my brother becoming brain damaged, and another dying young, about just who I was.

2012-10-20 Cairnsandgarden 131
With Shelley and one of her angels – taken by David Perkins

I took photographs, and my bridesmaid who truly hates being photographed, relented because it was for me and we hadn’t seen each other in so long, why not capture it in pictures.

She came later and visited us at our home with her kids. We stayed up and spoke to each other for half the night, and then poor thing her kids and she all became violently ill with the flu. She was mortified this happened when she visited but I kept saying ‘it really doesn’t matter, I’ve been through that, please don’t feel bad.’

Now being a conversation of old friends, I am not going to recount it all as that’s between me and my bridesmaid, but she did say one very interesting thing to me which was ‘you have truly become yourself .. . you always used to try a bit too hard.’

It is amazing to see how someone else sees you, and I realised she was right. I wasn’t hurt, but was happy to take that observation on board and turn it over in my head.

I could see my friend more clearly too, and how dedicated she was to being a mother-after years of travelling and career, and how compassionate she had always been and still was.

I was so glad to have an old friend re-enter my life, and become a present day friend once more.

Meeting Shelley again
With Shelley, Taken by David Perkins

Inspired by the Who Shaped Me project for ABC Open, this month’s  Pearlz Dreaming blog theme will be about the people who inspire me and there are lots of them! Goal 19 pieces on Who Shaped Me.

The Fourth Brother: Piece 11

justin (2)

Justin: Image Courtesy of Caleb

I always tend to think of Justin as my fourth brother.

He was always there to listen, especially when my youngest brother was in a coma after being knocked off his bike.

He made me feel safe, and was there to dry my tears and check that I was okay.   He was a true buddy who asked for nothing but respect and gave it in return.

I made friends with him in the later years of high school.

He was an amazing artist.  He had hazel eyes I think, and dark curly hair.  He was very pale skinned and delicate, and looked every bit the artist.  He wasn’t a great sportsman, and a very poor swimmer, but he had so many other gifts, especially that of making people laugh.  He invented a creature called the pogni, which was easily made with one hand, which then became like a puppet.  He loved to draw pognis everywhere.

Justin played Malvolio in our school’s production of Twelfth Night and all agreed he was simply amazing in the part.  The rest of us were just supporting actors I think.

Justin’s best friends were Rick and Caleb, but especially Rick, who he’d been to primary school with. For a brief time another boy Ted was in their group and also a very close friend, he was a Canadian cyclist who all the girls at school tended to swoon after. They all used to make me laugh, and Caleb was good at art as well and had been a primary school pal.  They loved to wear trench coats, even when it was warm because they liked to look ‘cool.’

Justin knew who I had crushes on and I knew who he loved as well.  However, we never ever thought of each other as more than friends.

Yet, for the high school leaving formal in year ten it was me he took so I wouldn’t arrive on my own or fret too much about my broken heart, thinking more of my disappointment than his potential date.  This act of kindness was typical of Justin.

One year, he and a friend, it might have been Caleb, gave all their ‘sisters’ Valentines.  They wrote silly little messages in them to make us laugh. All of them began with ‘Roses are Red and Violets are Blue.’  That was my only High school Valentine’s Day Card.

Another time he drew portraits of how he saw a few of his closest friends.  Caleb, Rick, me and a girl he loved with all his heart. I remember he drew a stick figure in a raincoat for Rick.  This was a friendship that required no effort. For me he drew a globe face, a whole world, with large eyes, and lots contained within.  I hope it meant he saw my love for humanity and that was how he portrayed it.  I was very touched to receive such a personalised gift and for many years kept the picture framed and on my dresser.  I still have it somewhere in a box.

On the night of our year ten formal Justin came with his Dad to pick me up (as neither of us drove at that stage) dressed in a navy blue suit and with a corsage.  I was in a yellow lemon dress with my first pair of low heels.  He complimented me on my dress and shyly said:  ‘You needn’t have gone to all that trouble for me.’ And then gave me the corsage.

To which I said, ‘You needn’t have gone to all that trouble for me.’ This made us both giggle.  No need to say it, we knew this was not a date, but two friends going to meet their other friends at a formal.

We met up with all our other friends, and danced the night away to lots of eighties hits.  The heel of one of my shoes broke.  I took them both off and danced in bare feet, until it was time to go.

I often wish I had photographs of that night.  I know his Dad took some.

I remember visiting Justin with Nicki and S. at his home and he was a gracious host, but I think his Mum and Dad wondered why Justin had the girls flocking, although he was really only interested in one particular girl.  Really it was the haven he provided for all; he was an artistic agony Aunt and confidante, a nice boy with a big heart.

I remember one time I was house sitting for Rick, and Justin came to visit me there and chat.  We spoke of what we would do in the future and where we would be.  He was finally with the girl he had admired all through high school.

He was happy and hopeful.  He could see a whole future ahead of him.  He was on top of the world.

When we went to college (year 11-12) through, sadly I grew away from my dear friend.  He had his close girlfriend now that he spent a lot of his time with and Caleb went to another college across town.  He still hung around with Rick.

I was making new friends, and keen to move out of town, as soon as I finished high school.

At college, other girls saw Justin’s gentle qualities and would ask me about him but I knew he was spoken for and would like a protective sister, tell them they simply had no hope he had met his Goddess and worshiped her.

I was making new friends, and moving on to University, so also was Justin’s true love, and Justin was going to stay in Launceston.  I think he hoped to follow her.

In my first year of University Justin came to visit me with Rick.  It was like old times.  We chatted and laughed in my dorm and then they were both gone.  I suspect to visit a whole group of friends, as Justin tended to do that, spread that spirit and that love.

I wasn’t to know that would be the last time I would see him.

A few months later, across the radio there came news a nineteen year old had been drowned at the Basin, Launceston Gorge.  They were dredging for his body, the name they read out . . .Justin . . .

I can remember the shock going through my body.  Radio is not a great way to find out you’ve lost a friend.

***

Justin’s funeral was an opportunity to say goodbye.

I wished that more of his friends had spoken.  However, it was sad because they had been swimming with him when he disappeared in the water, and I think they weren’t invited to.

It was a tense funeral.

I remember a speech from the priest and very sombre music, which seemed to be forced to stop at one point as if it was Justin saying ‘that music sucks.’

Justin was a big U2 fan, that’s what should have been blaring out.

I have many other fond memories of Justin and wish I could remember them all so much more clearly, because he was one of those who burn brightly for a short time.

I do know he used to come to Baha’i youth camps with Caleb and the three of us would have a ball.  Justin liked to act, and he acted in the plays we put on.

He was a bit of a clown when he hit the stage.  He hammed up the death scenes.

I like to think our children would have been friends.  Caleb’s daughter and mine have met and formed an instant bond.  So much so she offered to take us in if the cyclone destroyed our house and we had nowhere to go.

I think Justin would have liked the fact my daughter loves drawing so much, she too has dark curly hair and a kind spirit and big heart, but like me she has rich olive skin, and like her father David, who I am sure Justin would have approved of, she has a talent for maths and science.

Only Rick and Caleb were able to make the wedding.

My first conversations with my to- be-husband David were about the loss of one of the best friends I ever had.  David was my new shoulder to cry on, and new friend to laugh with who turned out to be more than a best friend.

I haven’t seen Rick or heard of him for many years, but after cyclone Yasi we went down to Melbourne to see family and  Caleb’s daughter and mine (who were by now often corresponding on skype and gmail) met up with us and we all walked through the Melbourne zoo.

I like to think our old friend Justin was somewhere watching and walking with us.

Even now when a U2 song plays I think of Justin, that dark haired boy with the big heart, who was always a shoulder to cry on and a friend to laugh with.

I made some revisions to the above story after this email from Caleb:
Hi June,

Thank you for the message. Coincidentally Tim  was visiting me when your message arrived, we both have many fond memories of Justin and remember him often, as does Deb.  I enjoyed reading your piece…the mutual respect, tenderness and tragedy.   I would definitely agree that Rick and Justin were closest friends (and Ted later on), but Justin was an individual and infectious personality who brought laughter with him.  Up until recently I had some of Justin’s drawings (including a couple of Pogni….remember them?) but I am unable to find them. I have attached a photo of Justin for you that I took at my parents house.

(It reminds me how primitive kids camera’s were back then!) I hope that you and your family are all well.

All the best,

Caleb.

 Inspired by the Who Shaped Me project for ABC Open, this month’s  Pearlz Dreaming blog theme will be about the people who inspire me and there are lots of them! Goal 19 pieces on Who Shaped Me.

The Visitors: Piece 10

Sewing Machine
Flickr Creative Commons/tsuacctnt

I loved visiting Nicki’s house.

She lived in a tiny flat with her mum.

They had a bunk bed, her mum’s was double at the base, and Nicki had the top bunk which was a single bed.
It was the first time I had ever seen a bunk bed like that.

The flat was always full of sewing projects her Mum was working on. I remember being struck by the colour, vibrance and clutter of it all.

Nicki, myself, and another friend used to walk everywhere because we couldn’t drive, but we were restless teenagers who didn’t want to stay cooped up at home. I remember one Tasmanian summer we spent most days together, walking, talking, and generally wandering from friend to friend.

We invariably went to see our ‘interesting’ friends, like Justin, an artist, and sometimes just anyone when we knew it wouldn’t take forever to arrive at their house, otherwise there would be no time to visit. We became extremely fit though as we pushed our walk to friend treks to the limit, especially as some of them lived in very steep areas of Trevallyn.

Nicki was very tall even back then. She had dark hair and almost ebony skin. Her mother by contrast was tall and blonde, but they looked very similar in their eyes. Even though Nick’s Mum sewed Nicki occasionally liked to borrow clothes off me though, just for something different. She lent me tapes of music she liked in exchange.

Her mother always told our trio that we were beautiful and could be models if we wished.

Nicki had more height for it than me, as I stopped growing. Also I wasn’t the slightest bit interested in being a model. I thought Nicki had much better looks for it than me, especially as I had a big scar under one of my eyes which I was very self -conscious about. Our other friend was the shortest of all of us, but I think she was more glamorous than me too. Still it was an encouraging thing for her mother to say.

One day we moved house so now I was beyond walking distance. I wasn’t able to friend trekking with Nicki and our other pal. I didn’t always feel like I could ask my Dad for lifts everywhere.

I am not sure if that’s why we grew apart, or whether she also moved back to Germany at some point. Teenagers too can be fickle in their friendships and I think maybe may be one of us or both of us did some friend hopping at times, just to make life interesting. I really can’t remember.

We lost touch for many years, until recently I found her Mum via a mutual friend, and Nicki turned up, as people do, in my facebook world.

We haven’t met up in person yet, but she takes amazing photographs and works in film.

Her mum is a passionate Christian. I can’t remember this from my youth, but perhaps she always was. Sometimes parents are just backdrops to our friends, and we are not always paying attention to the finer details of who they are.

Nicki seems like she is a very passionate and caring person from the photographs she posts and her status updates.

She is still tall and beautiful. Now we are both mothers.

We click like on each other’s pictures – and I look on with interest at her sharing of her talent with the world. I hope one day we will meet again in real space.

This time I am sure I would be a more constant friend, although sadly our friend Justin the artist drowned when he was only nineteen.

As for the other of our trio, we too are in touch via facebook and even have the occasional online chat.

Friends like Nicki, have shaped me more than I realised. I remember the times with them fondly, and I especially love that her Mum always told us we were beautiful.

From my friend:

Dear June,

What a lovely letter to wake up to today. The things we remember from all those years ago are so different and sometimes I think my memory fails me. So I was very happy to read your memories today as they are so different to mine. Thank you also for all your compliments.

You yourself seem to have walked down a path not so different than mine. You have a house full of beautiful children and you seem to have moved to a warmer climate, which I had also done. You love photography and you write if i am right.

I had forgotten the hours we spend walking around, but I was always excited to be wondering around , nothing much has actually changed. Beautiful Justin, what a shame that was. I still have a beautiful photo of him and Cella.

It was funny having come from Germany the size of our flat was just normal, it still amazes me how small peoples apartment are here, now that i am back. We have so much space in Australia and we don’t even realize it. I really do not remember to why our lives drifted apart

I remember your brother who was in my year, as a wild child, a beautiful soul.

I remember you June as being an excellent student and a prefect. If it’s right I don’t know. The other person you are referring to was S.. Yes! I guess you left after year ten and I don’t really know where you went and that was still before mobile phones.

Do you remember?

Toby lived downstairs from our flat in the same building. Anyway I did year ten and then went to Allanvale college for 1 year and then to Uni. I did have quite a
lot of contact till recently with S. but I think she is doing fine in Thailand.

Again a big thank you June!

What a sweet thing to do and thank you for remembering me and my Ma.

I am really not sure where the future will take us, but for now we are in Berlin for 2 more years and then we will see.

Let’s stay in touch and all the best to your family too.

Inspired by the Who Shaped Me project for ABC Open, this month’s  Pearlz Dreaming blog theme will be about the people who inspire me and there are lots of them! Goal 19 pieces on Who Shaped Me.

Mr Kidd’s Twelfth Night:Piece 9

twelfth night
Courtesy – Karen Ward personal archives

Riverside High, the early 1980s – I’m dropping my books, and about to head into Mr Kidd’s class.

Mr Kidd is notoriously scary for those who don’t have him as a teacher.

He is seen as the hardest task master in the whole school.  He doesn’t give high marks easily.  He comes across as grumpy.

He is tubby with a big beard and none of us like to bump into him in the hallways.  He bounds along in a way that reminds one of a big ferocious bear.

Together with another teacher, Mr Sparks, he invites our class to be in the play, Twelfth Night.  To my surprise, because I’ve deliberately dropped drama which was compulsory last year, due to overwhelming shyness, I am cast, on the basis of our in class reading aloud activities, in a lead role.

The rehearsals for that play take up many lunch hours and after school.  New friendships are fostered, as members of other grades take up roles both on stage and off to support us.

Some of the boys take every opportunity to diligently practice sword fights with cardboard swords.  Two of our classmates are the most unlikely set of twins you’d ever think of, he is half her height and blond, she is dark haired and has a totally different face, but they are the best actors for those roles, so twins they are.

We see another side of Mr Kidd as he nervously tries to memorise his lines, something many of us are finding terrifying as we head to opening night.   He is reading his lines again and again trying to make them stick.

We have a prompt hidden in something that melds into the stage to help us out on the night.

Some of the drama teachers are sure we were not going to pull the production off, and even try to stage a coup to have the whole production called off, thinking we will put the school into disrepute, with a shocking performance.

Thankfully this doesn’t happen and for two nights we perform to packed audiences of family, friends and community.

I am able to wear makeup for the first time (to look better for the stage).   I have a hooped dress and feel truly beautiful as my character.   Mr Sparks and Mr Kidd need the prompt a few more times than the students.

Prior to opening night, as usual, I am teased heaps about my frizzy hair, and some of the boys call me Animal based on the Muppet’s character who plays the drums.  Partly because of my hair, and also ironically due to my quiet nature, which is the opposite of Animal’s.

Opening night, one of the boys who is like a brother to me (so don’t read anything romantic in it) comes up and says how stunning I looked and how well I’ve done in the part.  I turn a deep purple colour.

Every young girl wants to be thought of as beautiful and talented and Mr Kidd indirectly gave me an opportunity to have that experience at a time when I needed more self- esteem after years of secretly feeling ugly.

I think many students remember Mr Kidd with fondness because of his passion and creativity in the subject he taught.   

I will always remember him because in my youth he believed the most I was going to grow up to be a writer and did everything to make me think that too.

Inspired by the Who Shaped Me project for ABC Open this month’s  Pearlz Dreaming blog theme will be about the people who inspire me and there are lots of them!

Called to Motherhood: Piece 8

Look at what I found...

Each of my children has subtly sculpted me, their mother, into a person who must sometimes forget where they end and I begin.

They have taken my personality edges and with the shorelines of their growth from baby hood to adolescence, mellowed me out to a person who values the sleep in they denied me in their early days.

Through them I re-experience the cinema, the beach, the word and colours of childhood – most of all I’m allowed to play and no-one can look at me strangely because I’m just being a Mum.

We build sand castles at the beach, progress to beach cricket and later fly kites.  I photograph, and am with, my children on the sand.

We wriggle uncomfortably in deck chairs at an old style theatre to watch ridiculous children’s movies.

They’ve made me recall the days I was bullied and think about how I made it through those times and how they can too.  Stones can be turned into feathers and stories can make the load lighter.

They make me laugh sending up their hard times by looking at the lighter moments within potential bleakness.  They are optimists, mostly.

My daughter gathers tiny shells and chicken egg shells for three dimensional collages, my youngest son makes everything into a cricket or hockey stick and my eldest son is glued to a guitar.  Somehow they have each taken a little piece of me and reshaped it into their own.

As they grow we play less for they move into new spaces with new dreams.  From cities, to coastal towns, to living right beside the cane, we journey side by side.  Now, I’m at the sidelines waiting for these fledgling ones to fly like Brahminy kites away into their futures.  I can’t take their flight for them.  But I can and have tried to prepare them.

I trace the outlines of their gifts – drawing, sport, music – and know that somewhere along the line I wanted to become a mother worthy of being in their lives. That somewhere along the line mothering became my centre and from it all else radiated.  Yet, to be in this circle of motherhood, one must embrace other circles, of – friends, being, vocation, futures – to become strong.

They have shaped me into a writer who photographs and writes the poetry of family.  Who knows beyond self, there are others for whom I would sacrifice my life. Virtues are the language of the mother empowered.

We move across the landscapes as I place cameras in their hands and they photograph sunsets scrolling past our moving Four Wheel Drive.

The first memories of being called into motherhood, the first touch of each child’s hand I can enfold in my palm, are never far away.  I see them even when they now have their adolescent days of break away.

They are testing their wings, and shaping me again.  Only this time I will breakaway – to emerge as more than mother and they will be more than my children.

Inspired by the Who Shaped Me project for ABC Open, this month’s  Pearlz Dreaming blog theme will be about the people who inspire me and there are lots of them! Goal 19 pieces on Who Shaped Me.