Words of Wisdom

Youth is wasted on the young.

Thursday, 16 October 2008

Theme Thursday: Fall 2002

I grew up in Australia, about as far away from extended family as we could possibly get. Over balmy Christmases we looked forward to the string and brown paper wrapped parcel that was our one contact with grandparents and aunts; or the birthday card with strange, grey-blue money which meant a trip to the bank to receive Australian dollars, usually more than double the amount sent.

Who was Grandma? Was she the cassette player where we recorded our voices and our childish, self centred versions of ourselves for her listening pleasure? Was she the disembodied voice on the end of a phone call, booked through the operator at Christmas time; Midas minutes as we searched for something to say to each other, strangers on the end of a steadily ticking call charge.

And Grandads: an even more ethereal concept as they hung quietly in the background of the pragmatic and voluble northern women who made up our family. Grandads we knew, could not even sign their own names on cards. I think we believed it was beneath them. It was definitely the woman's job.

What has this got to do with Fall, Autumn that is; the end of something?

This photo spoke to me of Fall. In the last year that the BA and I lived in the UK we went north to visit my great-aunt, my grandmother's last surviving sister, before we moved back to Australia. She was in her 80s and frail but still handsome and gentle as she had always been since I first met her, briefly, at the age of seven.

Over the years I had met my grandmothers and grandfathers. Once in 1967 we had stayed with them for 6 months while my father was on sabbatical. In 1972 we had spent about 3 months with them before moving on to Canada for the remainder of yet another sabbatical and finally in 1979 I had spent 9 months with them as I worked and saved money to go on my great adventure, back packing around Europe. It helped to know the faces that went with the handwriting. The roots from which we had sprung.

But by 2002, Auntie Pauline was just about the last one left. The last one that we were speaking to anyhow :-). Northern families are like that. Unca Dick drove up with us to see her, on a crystal clear October afternoon when the trees were orange and yellow and the clouds were so many balls of cotton wool in a cobalt sky. We knew it would probably be the last time we would see her. She was slowing down and we were going a long, long way away. Again.

As we were leaving, Unca Dick took our pictures. This one I love. As we got in the car to leave I had to sit for a moment, stop my eyes and take some deep breaths as the enormity of our move and the reality of goodbye set in. Unca Dick sat quietly next to me and neither of us had to say anything.

For a brief moment in 2004 I thought we would see her again. In June we booked our tickets to visit that Christmas. In the Fall, after a routine operation from which she seemed to be recovering well, she suddenly failed and in a matter of days she was gone. So this picture is the last we have of her. Ten years beforehand she had made the mammoth trip to the other side of the world to see me married, the last of her generation, who stand in the background of my life, their resonance loud even as they were simply names on Christmas cards.

Fall: the end of something.

For more Fall beauty, check out the stunning shots over at Stacey's Theme Thursday.

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11 comments:

SSG said...

this is a lovely post, and what a great photo to end it! You look a little bit like your great aunt, you know. Me, i love autumn too, the colours, the nights, the fires, and autumn has some of my favourite memories too from Hallowe'en and guy fawkes, collecting conkers and playing in leaves. I think i gotta dig into your archives to find out when you were in Uk and when you were in Oz...

Blueberry said...

i love that last picture. it is perfect!

MGF said...

The tongues really made me LOL. Great shot.

Jen said...

That last photo put a smile on my face for sure. Great post.

Stacy said...

What a sad, but beautiful post. My grandparents had many brothers and sisters...farm families were like that. A good dozen kids was the norm. I wish I had gotten to know more of them before they passed.

That last shot ended your post perfectly. She looks like she was a fun old gal. :)

Killlashandra said...

It's a wonderful post and tribute. The picture is so perfect. :)

Amy Jo said...

Wow! You got me laughing and crying all at the same time. Excellent work! And excellent shot.

Anonymous said...

what a beautiful and heartfelt post! Lovely - so lovely!

such a well written tribute.

thank you for sharing.
Elisa

kim said...

What a terrific memory! Love the pics - especially that second one. :-)

carrie said...

What a beautiful post. And..Oh my...that is a great last photo! BA looks so little, too! (Still sweet and sassy, tho'!)

A Free Man said...

Beautiful, Arizaphale! Outstanding post. I was with you from the start with the difficulty of living a long way from your extended family. My grandparents and aunts and uncles were in Canada while we were growing up in Florida, and Zach's grandparents will be even further away. It's a tricky one.

I'm currently struggling with the fact that it's October and rather than cool days and changing leaves and football, we're getting into blinding sun and uncomfortable heat.

We're going to go to the beach for a while tomorrow if you're up for it give us a shout.