April 17

I am muddled and think it is the 16th today after a week full of domestic challenges.

The phone rings. It is my sister to announce she is at my front door. I did not hear the door bell as I am in the back.

She arrives with a bundle which includes tapes my father made of my aunt playing piano. There are some with my Mum, and surprisingly of my son and I also playing.

My sister has been hard at work sifting through the last of the things. Since Dad died having taken on the task of finding a home for the various sentimental items my sister is almost done.
She says Dad had a habit of pressing the record button, so we did not know he had taped us.

There is the painting that sat in the dining room at the old house. The paint is falling off the board. I recall the lesson was to prime to board well so paint would stay stuck. What material did we have to hand in the classroom which indeed meant the effort was in vain. It is a basic still life and I ponder about restoring this wreck. I had thought I said to let it go, but perhaps I had been ambivalent at the time. So it has travelled wrapped carefully all the way across the country.

There is a cookery book we both shared for domestic science. Covered well with brown paper with magazine cut outs then protected with plastic. I look at is more closely a little later. It includes some hand written recipe for plum sauce in my Aunt’s hand writing and another for French dressing in my mother’s hand.

It is the smallest of items that has us both in tears. It is a small gold baby bracelet that had been mine.

My sister and I spend a good part of the day together, just sharing some tasks; some shopping to be done before returning to make a sandwich and share some recipes. We are asked to come to dinner. The fish market has fresh muscles on offer. My brother will be by himself tonight as the others have already gone ahead for the bush wedding. I call my older brother before we leave. He is still on work time though.

It is a good evening with some gratitude to be shown for a difficult task done.

I am reminded of the distance there is between us and of special times to be shard as I have been sitting this week with my dying friend who is showing me how you can live every moment of your life well.

It is four years since our father’s death.