Posted in True Story, Inspirational

Recovering from Dec 2017

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New year dawns, and four days has passed.  Hot cross buns have adorned the shop shelves.  Debate is it too early for hot cross buns to be out or not has begun.  I am a bit slow this year.  I am yet to post Happy New on Facebook.  I have been rather silent on facebook and even in my blogging world for sometime now.  No, I am not depressed or despondent.  Slightly sleep deprived and tired. Real world has taken over the virtual world.

Before I go any further.  Wishing everyone a happy 2018.

Snippets/recap of 2017 …..

If only I could change the script for the start of 2017.  For the first time in our married life, hubby and I spent New years eve separately.  He had lost his dad a few weeks ago and was away in Sri Lanka.  We bid good bye to many dear ones that December. It was just horrid.  Hubby was away in Sri Lanka, my youngest in Japan and even my mum had to scurry to Sydney for another funeral. It was just myself and my eldest at home.  A house that is usually full of people, chatter, food and pure chaos that day looked bare.  For once there was no chaos but there was no joy either.

Slowly as 2017 progressed chatter, food and chaos crept in.  My eldest Hari was doing well in his job and youngest was making his mark at University.  Life was getting into a normal rhythm.

Then came the jolt.  My niece lost her baby.  She didn’t deserve a sentence as cruel as this.  No one does. I don’t really understand the reason, meaning for such demises.  I am told that there is a lesson in this.  A lesson to say that life is short, live today as there is no tomorrow.  I am not sure if I buy that theory wholeheartedly.  Am I that dumb that I need a lesson from a baby’s death and a mother’s misery?  Where was their chance to live and learn?  I guess these are live’s mysteries that we have to trudge through.

Around October my eldest decided it was time to give his mother another cardiac stress test.  He rang me from Perisher Blue ski slopes.  He loves to ski and has a season pass. Every fortnight he drives to Perisher which is about 5-6 hours from Sydney with a couple of his mates.  When he started the conversation “I’ve done it this time..”  My heart sank.  The brat realised I was on tenterhooks. He started to drag the story out, telling me details of what they had for lunch etc without telling me what injury he had sustained.  I realised at this stage it couldn’t be that bad if he was in the mood to joke, but then again he is my son and that it was very possible that he was playing it down.  Eventually I found out that he had injured his ankle.  At this stage they didn’t know if it was a fracture or a ligament damage.

I packed up my bags and left for Sydney the next day.  He had to undergo surgery and was on moon boots and crutches.  His main concern and question to his surgeon was if he would be ready for skiing in December as he had planned to go to Canada.  To my horror the Surgeon is also a skier and was very encouraging and worked towards getting him ready.  He was given the all okay to ski in January rather than in December.  My thoughts on the surgeon, well I think he is just trying to get more customers.  Grr…

I returned home after about six weeks in Sydney.  Musings…

I have no idea how I lived in that mad city all those years ago, school drop offs, tennis lessons, swimming lessons, karate, God!! I was mad.  But if I had not lived there I wouldn’t have met some of those people that are so dear to me.  Each time I return to Sydney we carry on the friendship where we dropped off last time.  We may not call each other every day or write to each other.  But it doesn’t matter as they are in your hearts and you are in theirs.  I am glad I live in Adelaide but I do miss my friends in Sydney (and let’s be honest the shopping too)

It pained for me to see Hari in so much pain and discomfort.  Each day brought about a new challenge. If I was to take anything positive out of this situation would be that I got the opportunity spend some time with Hari.  I miss him so much and always think that he had moved out too young.  But I gave him the nod so he could sour and fulfill his dreams.  It was also a time I could spend time with my dear friend Rajee.  “A friend in need is a friend indeed”

My youngest Arj turned 21 on the 7th of December.  Pretty proud of this young man.  Pretty proud of the cake I designed too for an aspiring young journalist.

arj cake

arj cake word

Not so proud of my talents in Photography though.  To read the entirety of what’s written on the cake click on the link above.

My nephew had a son and my mum turned 75 and my aunt turned 85.  Thankful for all the blessings and using them to soldier on through the trudge.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

https://dailypost.wordpress.com/prompts/silent/

https://dailypost.wordpress.com/prompts/snippet/

https://dailypost.wordpress.com/prompts/tenterhooks/

https://dailypost.wordpress.com/prompts/theory/

Posted in True Story, Inspirational

Twenty One Years and Nine Months ago….

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Twenty One Years and Nine Months Ago (there about) a young couple had this crazy idea that they should now think about a second child.  They were very happy with their first effort and couldn’t see a reason not to go ahead with their idea.

From the get go this second child made sure he announced his coming to the world and there was red carpet waiting for him.  So the star was born just a few weeks before he was really due.  Mum was relieved as she had enough of his kicking in the stomach and decided he was better out than in, however the dad would have preferred a night of uninterrupted Cricket. As it was time was Arjuna Ranatunga to get out it was time for Arjuna Ganesan to come out.

You would think with such an Omen this young Arjuna would have turned out to be a great Cricketer.  Well he is left handed and that’s where the similarities and talent ends.

Well, he doesn’t need to be the next Arjuna Ranatunga or anyone else for that matter.  From the get go he showed us that he was an individual with his own identity that is to be admired and loved.

I am not entirely sure when he started to talk.  It could have been even the same day he was born telling the doctor what to do.  He started to talk pretty early and hasn’t given up on it as yet.  He has a lot to say about a lot of things.  Although an Asthmatic, no issues with voice projection either. Driving the boys to school I recollect many a times Hari (my eldest) declaring that it was “quiet time now”, just to get some breathing space to think on our own.  This ability to talk did give him some opportunity to venture into Public Speaking and land a few MC gigs.  When your child takes the stage to address a large audience of adults at the age of nine barely reaching the microphone, it does give the mother and father a moment of Goosebumps.

He loved the stage to speak, to act and to dance.  As he grew he became more aware of the society and its issues.  He was in year 7, and he returns home with his lunch box untouched.  He explains to me that he didn’t get time to eat, as he had to break up two year 4 kids fighting in the school grounds.  Him and his friend had to tell these kids to break up and explained to them that things would get worse if the teachers got involved.  As he was having this negotiation he saw a small kid from Kindergarten in the middle of the car park.  So he had to run to get this kid out of the way and take him into the School Office.  And when all this finished it was time to head back to his classroom.

There was a kid in Arj’s class (Primary School year 6 or thereabouts) who was considered to be a bully.  But this kid was really a great Cricketer.  One day Arj asked me during the match to call out this kid and cheer him on. To yell out “Great shot Tony” (I made up that name Tony).  Arj explained to me that this kid had no mum and the father was struggling to bring up his kids. And the father rarely attends any of the matches or training.  And even when he did, he would yell at them and wasn’t really being a loving dad.  So Arj explained to me and said maybe the reason he bullies others is because there is no one to say he is great or make him feel special.

So I followed Arj’s request and during the game I yelled “Tony that was a great shot”.  The kid was really startled.  When he came back to the club house, he came up to me and said “Thank you Mrs. Ganesan” and the following weeks, after each match or while the game was going on and he was waiting for his turn, he would start a conversation with me.  He mentioned that he would one day like to play for the state. Any time he saw me in school, even outside of Cricket he would stop and great me “How are you Mrs. Ganesan?” Years later I met him at the shopping centre all grown up and unrecognisable, but he recognised me and greeted me the same “Hallo Mrs. Ganesan, how are you?”  I am not saying that kid turned into a new leaf just because of that one action but I am pretty sure he appreciated that small gesture.  It meant nothing to me but it meant so much to that kid.  But what astounds me most is that Arj at such a young age realised this.

Even at that young age he was fascinated with politics. For one of his school projects he interviewed a few known Politicians.  It was not easy for a Primary school kid to get these interviews.  So he got many knock backs and but eventually he managed to interview Nick Minchin, Christopher Pyne and John Hill.  To their credit they didn’t treat him like a kid; they answered his questions like they would for Leigh Sales.  Also I think it taught Arj that if you want to pursue something, you have to overcome knockbacks.

Years later, now studying Journalism and International relations seems very fitting for his personality and character.

Years ago, Twenty Nine Years and Nine months ago to be exact we had no idea that this crazy idea we had of having another child was going to be this exciting.

Thank you my boy for bringing so much happiness and joy.  For all the laughs, for all the crazy things you drag us doing and for the moments you make us so proud.  Those moments almost make me forget how your bedroom looks, all the times I have rushed to the hospital with lego pieces up the nose or crayon in the ear canal or with a broken limb.  Just remember I said almost, so please clean up your room and stop hurting yourself.

Happy 21st My boy.