My Nanna is in surgery as I type this. She fell over early on Thursday morning and broke her shoulder and hip. I have had a tightness in my chest ever since. At the moment I am a bit nauseous and full of nervous energy. I can't sit still but can't concentrate on anything either. Since I am heading back to school tomorrow, I should be getting some preparation done- although every teacher knows that there is never enough time for preparation and no matter how much we do there is always plenty more that could be done. I always feel anxious about getting back into a new school term. I completely love my job and adore the children I have the pleasure to teach, but the school term is frantic. My family do a great job of surviving each term and catching up again every break. We love our time together to reconnect and rest. Add that to my stress over my lovely Nanna...I think I might pour myself a glass of wine.
My Nanna and Poppy have probably had a much greater influence than they think. I am not sure if they realise how much their love, support and encouragement has meant to me. A lot of my successes and strengths come from my desire to make them proud. My Poppy is very quiet and rarely expresses an opinion, but his love and pride is always very clearly expressed. In fact, I think I have married a man very much like my poppy. My Nanna always has an opinion and likes to share that in a hope that it will help us to be more successful, happier and healthier...I suspect we have not always welcomed her advice as much as she would like. In fact, I think I am very much like my Nanna!!
When I was about 5 years old they sold their house in Peakhurst (which still holds lots of lovely, sunny childhood memories of magpies calling in the morning and making pastry in the kitchen) and built a grand, brand new house on St. Hubert's Island on the Central Coast. Oh boy, in our eyes, it was every bit as exotic as it sounds. They had a two storey house!!!! How grand. It had an ensuite!!!! It had two living areas!!!! It had a dishwasher!! In 1979 or 1980...I can't be sure when they actually built it..this was the height of grandness to us. Not only was this place a mansion (again through the eyes of a naive 5 year old) we could run down their back yard straight onto our own little beach. My sister, cousins and I spent many school holidays visiting and we had lots of special family celebrations at this house. Nanna has always been a wonderful cook, so we were always treated with delicious desserts, cakes and slices when we visited. We spent hours swimming and playing in the sand. We designed the most impressive castles, swimming pools and cake shops out of sand. I also have way too many memories of shocking sunburn on my back because we stayed out there from breakfast to lunch and then again until dinner. On rainy days we pulled out the lego and a game of 'trouble'. Poppy claims that he found bits of lego in the shag pile for weeks after we left. My Nanna always kept a little stash of coins in a glomesh (no idea how to spell that) purse in one of the kitchen cupboards- she used to share it out between my sister and I as holiday spending money. We savoured our shopping time in the very glamourous Woy Woy K-Mart buying little treasures.
I often wonder if my cousins have the same memories. I always felt like they were the 'good' grandchildren because we were always told about how careful they were with their toys and how they never fought with each other. For years I really believed that they were so much nicer than my sister and I, now I think that Nanna was just trying to give us an example to strive towards, and just maybe they were really no different to us at all. I know how much my Nanna loves me and how proud she is. It always makes me smile when she wanted me to send in my Year 9 school photo to enter a competition to be 'Kelly from the Tele'. It was a dreadful photo- she has it hanging up on her bedroom wall still- but she thought it was a pretty photo of me. I love that memory so much. I know that she is proud that I got through uni, despite having to work up to 3 jobs while studying. I also know that she loves my boys and takes such delight in seeing them. She also loves my husband, although I sometimes suspect that she loves him a bit more than she loves me. She is so often telling me how marvellous he is, I agree with her, he is marvellous. Maybe it is the same deal as the marvellous cousins...I can only hope that she says nice things about me behind my back, and that other people are sick of hearing how marvellous I am. Really though, she does quite often tell me nice things and every word of praise means so much to me because I really love making her proud. She was amazed and amused when I was so fascinated when we found her ration cards from the depression one day. Nanna often told me that I had 'funny' tastes when I was interested in stuff like her ration cards or old dresses from the 50's and 60's.
I have her sewing box in my spare room- the room has now become 'the sewing room' according to my family. I don't call it that because I can't quite come to terms with the idea of me being someone who 'sews'. I loved pouring over her bits and pieces in her meticulously organised box. The pins stored in the ancient vaseline jar (it is glass with a metal lid- remember those) and the neatly folded and pinned bits of fabric tape. My Nanna used to sew us all matching outfits- I really, really wish I had appreciated the valour jump suit at the time and kept it. I did love it, but didn't realise how strong a memory it would hold. Her sewing box has inspired me to keep on trying, despite my lack of aptitude. I love the results, however awkward and crocked they are.
I think my poor Poppy is feeling far more anxious than I am right now and my lovely Mum is the pillar of strength, as usual. My grandparents are all creeping closer to 90 and it makes me nervous...and scared.
I didn't know what I would write today, and I should probably read over it to check for typos and to make sure I am not being to self- centred and pathetic...but I am too full of nervous energy to care.
My Nanna and Poppy have probably had a much greater influence than they think. I am not sure if they realise how much their love, support and encouragement has meant to me. A lot of my successes and strengths come from my desire to make them proud. My Poppy is very quiet and rarely expresses an opinion, but his love and pride is always very clearly expressed. In fact, I think I have married a man very much like my poppy. My Nanna always has an opinion and likes to share that in a hope that it will help us to be more successful, happier and healthier...I suspect we have not always welcomed her advice as much as she would like. In fact, I think I am very much like my Nanna!!
When I was about 5 years old they sold their house in Peakhurst (which still holds lots of lovely, sunny childhood memories of magpies calling in the morning and making pastry in the kitchen) and built a grand, brand new house on St. Hubert's Island on the Central Coast. Oh boy, in our eyes, it was every bit as exotic as it sounds. They had a two storey house!!!! How grand. It had an ensuite!!!! It had two living areas!!!! It had a dishwasher!! In 1979 or 1980...I can't be sure when they actually built it..this was the height of grandness to us. Not only was this place a mansion (again through the eyes of a naive 5 year old) we could run down their back yard straight onto our own little beach. My sister, cousins and I spent many school holidays visiting and we had lots of special family celebrations at this house. Nanna has always been a wonderful cook, so we were always treated with delicious desserts, cakes and slices when we visited. We spent hours swimming and playing in the sand. We designed the most impressive castles, swimming pools and cake shops out of sand. I also have way too many memories of shocking sunburn on my back because we stayed out there from breakfast to lunch and then again until dinner. On rainy days we pulled out the lego and a game of 'trouble'. Poppy claims that he found bits of lego in the shag pile for weeks after we left. My Nanna always kept a little stash of coins in a glomesh (no idea how to spell that) purse in one of the kitchen cupboards- she used to share it out between my sister and I as holiday spending money. We savoured our shopping time in the very glamourous Woy Woy K-Mart buying little treasures.
I often wonder if my cousins have the same memories. I always felt like they were the 'good' grandchildren because we were always told about how careful they were with their toys and how they never fought with each other. For years I really believed that they were so much nicer than my sister and I, now I think that Nanna was just trying to give us an example to strive towards, and just maybe they were really no different to us at all. I know how much my Nanna loves me and how proud she is. It always makes me smile when she wanted me to send in my Year 9 school photo to enter a competition to be 'Kelly from the Tele'. It was a dreadful photo- she has it hanging up on her bedroom wall still- but she thought it was a pretty photo of me. I love that memory so much. I know that she is proud that I got through uni, despite having to work up to 3 jobs while studying. I also know that she loves my boys and takes such delight in seeing them. She also loves my husband, although I sometimes suspect that she loves him a bit more than she loves me. She is so often telling me how marvellous he is, I agree with her, he is marvellous. Maybe it is the same deal as the marvellous cousins...I can only hope that she says nice things about me behind my back, and that other people are sick of hearing how marvellous I am. Really though, she does quite often tell me nice things and every word of praise means so much to me because I really love making her proud. She was amazed and amused when I was so fascinated when we found her ration cards from the depression one day. Nanna often told me that I had 'funny' tastes when I was interested in stuff like her ration cards or old dresses from the 50's and 60's.
I have her sewing box in my spare room- the room has now become 'the sewing room' according to my family. I don't call it that because I can't quite come to terms with the idea of me being someone who 'sews'. I loved pouring over her bits and pieces in her meticulously organised box. The pins stored in the ancient vaseline jar (it is glass with a metal lid- remember those) and the neatly folded and pinned bits of fabric tape. My Nanna used to sew us all matching outfits- I really, really wish I had appreciated the valour jump suit at the time and kept it. I did love it, but didn't realise how strong a memory it would hold. Her sewing box has inspired me to keep on trying, despite my lack of aptitude. I love the results, however awkward and crocked they are.
I think my poor Poppy is feeling far more anxious than I am right now and my lovely Mum is the pillar of strength, as usual. My grandparents are all creeping closer to 90 and it makes me nervous...and scared.
I didn't know what I would write today, and I should probably read over it to check for typos and to make sure I am not being to self- centred and pathetic...but I am too full of nervous energy to care.
Oh honey, so much is happening and I did not know. I have been absorbed with training all weekend and work each day. I will call you tomorrow to see how things are going. I am certain that your nanna told your cousins what a good girl you were, because you were!! and warm and caring and talented and beautiful.xxxx
ReplyDeleteThat's OK Deb- I know how buy you have been. Thankyou for your kind words- you are so lovely. I am absolutely sure you are right. My Nanna loves us all so much and I am sure there is no way 5 grand- daughters could make her more proud.
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