First day of spring here in the southern hemisphere, and it is also Father’s Day; Mr FD’s first as a grandfather too! It has been a rather quiet affair after the events of recent. Yesterday, on our way back from visiting BIL in the hospital (running a fever and on intravenous antibiotics and morphine for his pain) Mr FD and I stopped at a nearby village to lunch at the little restaurant where I normally socialise with my girlfriends.
I had one glass of wine, while he had coffee and we both had pasta dishes, and sweet, rich desserts. It is months since we had lunched, I mean more than a quick hamburger somewhere, so it was lovely.
Mr FD, ever the adventurer wanted to resume our search for my grandparents farm (I haven’t been there since the 1960s!) armed with some information from my sister, but while we got close I was never convinced we were in the right spot. It was only when we returned home and I suggested googling a cousin who lived nearby that we got onto Google Earth and actually found what I thought was the site. It seemed to have the house and farm buildings in approximately the right geographic location, but we need to sight to be sure. In those days there was no road signs, or house numbers, it was just farms.
It was fun to tell Mr FD some of the family tales which no doubt after 36 years of marriage he has heard before, except for maybe the story about “that is where the house where the lady shot her brains out and Grandpa had to clean the mess up, used to be. There were just house stumps remaining when I was a child…” He already knew the story of my grandmother having a nervous collapse after the accidental death of her first child at the age of 2 and attacking a pet dog that she partially blamed for the accident with an axe…yes, we Flamingo Dancer women are really not to be messed with! I think a stick list is a civilised improvement over a wood axe!
The entire time though, one side of me was going through the motions, even enjoying moments, and certainly if anyone asked me how the day had been, I would have to honestly reply “rather pleasant”, but there was this incredible sadness, and a fight to hold back tears that I found so incredible. It was if I was looking in on another person altogether.
I understand anxiety. I grew up with anxiety, but in recent years I thought I had worked to put all that behind me. I have been happy and content but now my equilibrium, my identity, just seems to be dissolving. What an alien world I am in these last few weeks.