Sermons and Confessions

When I was in my 20’s I enjoyed singing as a hobby.  For a while there it was something that I thought I might do as a job.  Musical Theatre was my particular passion.  It was through our mutual involvement in a production of Call Me Madam in 1996 that She-Ra and I met.

My singing teacher during this time was a remarkable woman.  She was very dedicated and caring.  A professional Opera singer herself, she had left a promising career to look after a family. 

She was a good teacher and she became a friend.  In order to give us experience, performing in front of people, she formed a concert party to perform at retirement villages.  She gave up lots of her own time in order to supervise rehearsals, which were often held at her home.

Eventually I decided that being married and having kids was where my focus lay.  I didn’t have the guts to admit it, not properly to myself and especially not to her.  Because I was gutless I didn’t end my association with her properly, didn’t really say goodbye, didn’t say thanks, didn’t say I valued her friendship.

Last year she died after a battle with the terrible and debilitating Motor Neurone Disease.  I had known that she was ill, but I didn’t have the guts to go and see her.  I went to her funeral.  I remembered our times together.  I think of her often.  I’m sorry I was such a coward.

Susan Hetherington, a regularly featured commentator on ABC local radio in Brisbane this morning proudly announced a scheme to pay 10cents per litre less for petrol.  She happily announced that because the new Woolworths loyalty card was offering a 10cent discount for new card holders she would be getting as many new cards as she could.  Each time she gets a new card she gives a different email address, creating a new GMail account each time.  “Aren’t I clever?” she seemed to gloat.

Is this fruit cake for real?  Week after week we hear her sanctimonously ranting about various organisations who haven’t lived up to her level of expected customer service or ethical standards.  Can’t she understand that her proposed scam is totally unethical.   Woolworths are doing a loyalty program that they have, no doubt, allocated promotional budget to fund.  This means that they will making back that money by selling groceries.

So just to spell it out to you, Ms Hetherington, the fuel isn’t free.  Someone is paying the 10cents, I wonder who?  Maybe it’s me when I go and buy my groceries from the shop who’s loyalty card you are abusing.  

Tonight’s episode of Media Watch has me thinking.  It is terrible that a completely unsubstantiated allegation can be be published in the media.  In the case of Tania Zaetta allegedly having sex with Australian soldiers in Afganistan what is the big deal?  I don’t mean that she shouldn’t be upset about the false allegation, I mean why is it a story that a woman has sex?

It’s just sex.  I don’t know for sure but she’s seems to be single.  I don’t know who the soldiers were (they were fictional anyhow), but I assumed they were single men.  Even if they weren’t, that’s sad for their partners, but it’s hardly news that people sometimes commit adultery.  It’s also not a crime.

The newspapers and TV publish stories but we read them.  If we were more accepting and worried less about judging other this would be a non issue.

Going back to work tomorrow.  She-Ra is feeling a bit better.  It hasn’t exactly been a holiday but….  I’m not exactly enjoying work at the moment.  I applied for and got this new job in January.  Everybody thought it would be a great job for me.  Of course it still might be.  It’s always hard to start in a new job.  I’ve been told it will take at least 12 months for me to really know what I’m doing.

Really not looking forward to going back tomorrow.  Somehow I’ve got this job to do a full reconcilliation of a couple of ‘control’ accounts.  They haven’t been looked after properly for quite a few years.  I don’t know how to do it and don’t want to do it.  It looks like my boss isn’t going to let me get out of it.

Oh well!  I’ve been away seven working days.  Maybe the world has opened up and swallowed the building.

A good friend of my wife’s has a blog page.  She is responsible for opening up the world of blogging to me.  SheRa has been contributing the occasional review etc to a blog called Look! Something Shiny!  I thought this was all very nice and I knew that her friend, who started the blog and also contributes, had a blog called Magic Bellybutton.  I’d never taken much notice of it, and sadly never read it until now.

This is a girl truly committed to writing a blog.  There is a lot of stuff here.  She’s good at it too.  The text is well written and easy to read.  The postings are honest, more honest than I would be.  I was most interested in the confession about gay porn.  (And really agreed with the comments by the way). 

There are some really funny bits too!  I’m not sure who else would have the courage to start an online competition for other people to suggest the best “films my boobs could make”.  Certainly an interesting idea and one worth exploring if only for the possibility of the Arts Grants and tax concessions available.

The political comment is insightful and passionate.  It helps that the bellybutton votes the same way that I do.  Black and pink wouldn’t be my choice.  (You’ve probably guessed that by the extreme conservative look of this page) and  I think the silouhette of the model with viking horns is a bit overstated.   That won’t stop me from being a more regular reader.  MB - you have a new fan!

My mother was born in the mid 1930’s.  Her parents were not enlightned, they dragged themselves up.  I think my grandma who was naturally tall and thin (a condition no doubt assisted by the TB) was pretty hard on Mum’s naturally more chunky frame.

I know that Mum loves me, although she has never said it.  I know that she cares because she seems unable to have a conversation with me that doesn’t end up in a criticism of my appearance.  No doubt this is of great service to the community, an attempt to protect them from my frightening appearance. 

I had wondered recently why it is that when Mum and Dad are over I end up talking to Dad and SheRa is left with Mum.  I was a little ashamed that there were things going on that my wife knew before I found them out.  There’s a simple reason, Mum can’t help but get around to my physical appearance.  I can’t tell you how much it does for a young man’s self esteem to hear as I did before I had reached the age of 10 that I wasn’t that attractive. 

It’s partly my fault.  I should go with my basic feelings and say “******!”  I feel this would adequately describe my feelings. 

Look.  I am fat.  It’s a combination of a love of food and a dislike of physical activity.  I know it’s bad for my health.  If Mum had ever said she loved me and accepted me for who I am it would be a lot easier to hear the truth about how I need to lose weight.

It’s been a few days since I posted.  That won’t really concern the readership, because there isn’t one.

Latest is that SheRa spent Thursday to Saturday nights in hospital and came home on Sunday.  She’s going OK.  Quite sore and now has a cold that I gave her.  (No one can say I don’t share).  She’s also got high blood pressure.  Probably  has had for a long time but it was identified in the hospital.

I’ve said before in these pages that I love my wife.  I missed her while she was in hospital.  It was strange to be in the bed we share on my own.  The kids seemed to cope OK and as always the support from my parents and parents in law was great.

I’m not a great carer.  I do the houswork and bring good meals.  That stuff isn’t too hard.  But I do get frustrated and of course it pushes all the old buttons that I’m having to do everything on my own, even though this time she has a really good excuse. 

One of my fears is that I’ll be left on my own to raise two boys.  My wife has been fat as long as I’ve known her and I fell in love with her that way.  I love her body, but I am really worried, especially with this blood pressure thing that she might not be around as long as she should.  Worse still - what if she had a stroke or something and was still alive but not her.  Maybe needing long term care.  That is the worst nightmare.

Today is the day.  In a few hours She-Ra will be going in for her surgery.  This morning I walked our older son to school.  He was quite happy until it came time to for me to leave.  “I don’t want you to leave.” he said.  He didn’t know why he was upset. 

He’s like me in many ways.  As a child I did lots of “stiff upper lip” behaviour.  I perceived that my parents didn’t want me to show emotion and that emotions, especially ones like anger, fear or sadness were bad and were something to overcome.  I’ve had a lot of years in therapy dealing with that.  Even so it’s something I still do to this day.  I hope I haven’t subconciously taught my sons to do the same thing. 

As a child what would happen to me was that at the moment when things came to a head I would suddenly cry, or run away.  I had spent so much energy suppressing the emotions that I had failed to prepare for the event itself.  It could be a bit of projection on my part, but it worries me that that’s what happened with my boy this morning.  He was happily playing with his brother.  We had a great walk up to the school together, we talked happily about lots of stuff.  Of course he knew his mum was going into hospital, he’d said goodbye to her.  Then again maybe he just doesn’t like that point of seperation.

PS.  This post was drafted up and then posted later.

In a few days my wife will go into hospital.  It’s a minor thing really, the removal of her thyroid glands.  For some time the swelling goiter has been a literal pain in the neck, effecting sleeping and bringing headaches and general discomfort.  Who knows what other effects the apparently non functioning thyroid has had on her general health and energy levels.  So it’s all for the best really and has to happen.

That doesn’t make it any easier for me.  I’m worried.  I’m deeply in love with this woman.  I probably didn’t know how much until this thing started to be real.  Of course she’s been in hospital when the kids were born, but it’s nothing like this.  I’m worried that she’ll be in pain, I’m worried that I will do something wrong in looking after her.  I’m worried for myself that I will be carrying the burden of two children and a sick wife for weeks to come.  I hope that it won’t be anywhere near that long.

 I’m happy that I work for an organisation that allows me to have time off to care for my wife.  I know it’s my obligation as the father of this family to step up at this time.  That doesn’t make it any more of a pleasant idea.

I am a bit of lefty pinko.  My family history of association with the Australian Labor Party and the Union movement started me on this road, but I think a basic concern for other human beings has contributed to it.

I am concerned about the rising price of living.  I’m concerned that some people will be caught by the higher interest rates and there may be severe impacts on families.  To imagine myself, with my wife and children having to leave our home is a horrible thought.  We would have family to fall back on, but even so it would be horrible.

I have empathy and sympathy for people in that position.  One of the results of having a fear of that happening to me is that She-Ra and I have not over extended.  We have not borrowed more than we can repay.  Not borrowed more than the value of our home.  Not borrowed for holidays, or presents, or non capital items.  I don’t have an income that allows me to have new things all the time.  It was my choice not to study, not to apply for higher jobs.  The consequence of my choices is my level of income and I have a responsibility to live to it.

Of course governments have a role, but they can never guarantee that prices won’t rise or that some people won’t be caught.  Governments sometimes cannot protect people from themselves.