Tag Archives: nostalgia

Joan’s place

white-picket-fenceLike a grand old lady growing old and infirm
Our once quaint beach house lacks vitality

She is broken and old
Lifeless and dull

Broken old furniture
Cracked and peeling paint
Cobwebs draping
Floors stained and lifting

Photographs of her glory days reflect a simpler life and happy family times
Treasured memories live in my heart forever

Mum was right to go when she did
She didn’t want to rot away before our eyes
Like her house

Should we let the old house rest in peace and follow new adventures somewhere else
or give her new life?

Maybe the time has come to let her slip away gracefully and with dignity like my mum.

Television trauma

All my life I’ve felt different to other people.  It’s not because I have distinctive skin colour, ethnicity or appearance, it is more about my thoughts and attitudes. As a child I remember wanting to be like other children but never feeling completely at ease with who I was. I was happy but felt I was looking in from outside the circle.

I think children’s television shows in the 60s and 70s should take some responsibility for my confusion. My child self didn’t fully comprehend that these shows were make-believe and subconsciously my life didn’t measure up to the exciting lives of my television idols.

Everyday after school I’d watch television and imagine how great it would be to live in America and belong to one of my tv families.

The Brady Bunch, the antics of a blended family with three perfect boys and three perfect girls entertained me every day. When I first started watching I desired Cindy’s cuteness but by the end of the series I craved Marsha’s popularity. And if only I could have close brothers and sisters like the Bradys (*sigh*).

The Flying nun; The nuns in the convent San Tanco had fantastic adventures and made me wish I was religious so I could join their sisterhood. But  more than anything else I wanted to fly like Sister Bertrill and to this day I often still dream I am flying like her.

I Dream of Jeanie and Bewitched were favourites shows that had me secretly practicing twitching my nose or making genie arms to create magic and travel through time. Sadly I never managed to make anything happen, not for the want of trying.

Everyone had a dog or a cat but I dreamed of having a talking horse in my backyard like Mr Ed or a pet dolphin like Flipper. I couldn’t understand why this wasn’t possible even though I lived in the suburbs.

As a teen I dreamed of hanging out with Richie Cunningham and the Fonz at Arnolds after school and going to the high school proms I saw on Happy Days.

But my all-time favourite show was Little House on the Prairie about a family living on a farm in Walnut Grove, Minnesota, in the 1870s. My dream was living the simple country life of Laura Ingalls.

Now I’m older I know tv families and characters are make-believe, animals can’t talk and people can’t fly or change situations with magic. The funny thing is that all these years later I still wish I could live in that little log cabin in Walnut Grove just like the Ingalls family. (*sigh*)

A mother’s day wish

Today I am especially grateful for the privilege of nurturing three precious children who have enriched my life since their birth and hopefully will continue to share their love and lives with me for many more years to come.

Just like the Queen gives a message to her people each Christmas, I would like to give a message to my special three offspring today on mother’s day 2013.

Enjoy and celebrate the simple pleasures that life can bring.

It seems like everyone these days is preoccupied with keeping up and getting ahead while spending less time enjoying the simple pleasures in life.

Children used to be happy with small birthday gifts and having a few friends over to their house for a party to share fairy bread, balloons and play pass the parcel.

The school dance used to be held in the gym hall with girls and boys wearing clothes they already owned.

Weddings were quaint ceremonies shared with family and close friends enjoying a meal and a dance to wish the bride and groom a happy life together. Gifts used to include mixing bowls not pledges of money.

Pregnancies and births were private times shared between the new parents and close friends and family.

Giving mum a homemade card, a gift from the school mother’s day stall (that she probably donated) and a lovingly prepared breakfast in bed surprise constituted the joyous celebrations on mother’s day.

At the risk of being old fashioned I urge everyone to strip their lives back from modern ways by taking a break from checking Facebook notifications, sending/receiving multiple text messages or spending money on unnecessary items just to impress others.

I would like everyone to gain more meaning out of what they do and enjoy the pleasures of the simple things in life.

My fondest memories of motherhood include seeing my children play with a mismatched group of toys and creating personalities, voices and adventures for them.

It was a lot like Toy Story………..maybe I should have written that down 20 years ago.

Maybe that was why the movie was such a success, we all love the thought of living in a time when life was more fun and less cluttered.

Magical memory

Every year the frantic Christmas shopping rush seems to start earlier and grow exponentially.

I love Christmas but I dislike greed.

As a child 40+ years ago I remember the excitement building at Christmas time. Putting up our wonky Christmas tree and draping the fairy lights around it made me feel like the happiest girl in the world.

Even though I lived in a family that was financially secure I didn’t receive a lot of gifts like most Australian children seem to get today.

My memory is that children wrote a letter to Santa asking for one special toy that they hoped he would magically deliver.

I vividly remember finding a present on the end of my bed when I opened my eyes on Christmas morning and whispering excitedly to myself “I got it” as if it was the most incredible thing that had ever happened to me.

That feeling of pure joy is a precious childhood memory that I carry in my heart always. That magical feeling is priceless and to me  represents the essence of Christmas.

Here’s who I am

The thing that appeals to me about blogging is sharing my thoughts with anyone who cares to read my posts. I pledge to write with honesty to reflect my true personality, no lies, no glossing, no fantasy.

My mum passed away years ago and I miss talking to her openly about anything and everything. We passionately shared our opinions that always left me thinking long after the conversation was over.

So I suppose my blog is a connected to reliving the conversations I had with mum,  sharing raw truths in a non-judgmental environment.

If blogs had existed in her lifetime mum could have left a tangible piece of herself for eternity.  Reading her words after she passed would awaken memories allowing them to always remain close.

With this in mind I will continue to write a blog and share my soul with those I love and anyone else who wants to read it. The words will be there for reading today or in years to come.

And if my blog is of no interest to anyone at all I don’t mind because the progression of writing about my feelings is helping me to understand who I really am.