Heffernan's got me fired up!

If there's one thing that annoys me, it's the suggestion that I am somehow selfish or less of a woman because I have no children. I hope Julia Gillard is as incensed as me. Personally, I'd have taken his attempt at an 'sincere' apology, ended with "So there you go!", as being forced. Not interested, Mr. Heffernan.

My childless and single lifestyle is something I've discussed before in this blog. My choices have been based upon the fact that I do not wish to raise a child alone. I have desired to first, find a stable, long term relationship. I do not want to have a child torn between divorced, antagonistic parents, to have a child at the centre of a legal wrangle. I have often doubted the durability of any romatic relationship I have been in - kids had to wait until I was sure. I tend to think that's being responsible.

Ms. Gillard's choice to not have children may well differ from mine, but her reasons for remaining childless should be considered no less valid. A man who chooses not to have children is not considered to be less of a man or incapable of leading. Why should a woman? If anything, I look to Ms. Gillard in the hope that she perhaps has a better understanding of my situation than many of the other parenting politicians. Not everyone has a family, not everyone wants a family, not everyone has the right circumstances to raise a child.

Yes, Mr. Heffernan, you did offend me. You offended me even more with your facical apology. You will be low in the list of numbers on my ballot sheet when you stand for re-election.

Rats depart ship

Many years ago I learned to play the piano. Just as well, because it looks distinctly like I'm about to become a one man band. Anyone got a pair of cymbals with a foot peddle? In an industry which has undergone significant industrial change just 12 months ago in the public domain (to the benefit of the employees), the private company I work for has yet to catch up. It's just one problem in a myriad, but in the end, when a employee is dissatisfied with their workplace, better pay and conditions elsewhere become very attrattive.

All too often my workplace tries to catch the staff on their way out, after they've handed in their notice. Too little, too late. The pay is the last thing these people are looking for. They want respect, honesty and reasonable workloads. Without those things, loyalty simply does not exist. It's every man for himself. And it's not like they haven't been told. I laid it on the line a couple of weeks ago with one of the directors. Today, my right hand man, effectively my second in charge, jumped ship too (and he's been raising red flags for months).

I have once worked in a business with similar problems. We had a saying - last one out, turn out the lights. This place has the same feeling.

Truth without empathy leads only to division

This weekend's Sydney Morning Herald carries an article about a winning recruitment advertisement for the ADF on its front page (http://www.theage.com.au/news/national/war-hero-poster-boy-and-fraud/2007/04/13/1175971360391.html). It features an image of Marcel Caux (aka Harold Katte), the last survivor of WWI who died in 2004, superimposed on a modern image. It goes on to suggest that Caux is an unsuitable choice for a role model.

According to the article, Caux was a liar. Enlisting at age 16, he lied that he was 18. No comment is made that this was apparently not uncommon for the period. Going off to war was seen as some sort of adventure. Why wouldn't the 16 year old youth want some of the action?

Caux was apparently also a deserter, leaving his post on three separate occasions. It also goes on to indicate that he was wounded several times. No comment or consideration is given to the fact that the sheer horror of face to face combat would distort and damage the minds of anyone who witnessed such carnage. The reasons for Caux's desertion are never mentioned and the man himself can no longer defend his position. Serving at some of the War's fiercest battles - Pozieres, Villes-Brettoneux and Amiens, where literally thousands of men died must have played terrbily on his mind.

In his later life, Caux altered his name several times and married twice, apparently failing to divorce his first wife. His listed place of birth varies between documents from Canada to France to Australia depending on the period in his life. Again, the reasons for such deceptions can only be guessed at today, with the man now deceased.

It would be reasonable to assume that a soldier who served in such bloody and desperate battlefields as Caux would suffer from PTSD (post traumatic stress disorder), a condition that was not recognised at the time. The impacts of war can be evident in service personnel for decades after their return from duty. Look at the Viernam vets. I know one personally who, some 30+ years later, is still suffering. As with many others veterans, the relationships with those he was closest to suffered.

Whether Caux's behaviours during his life were in part due to the effects of war we will never know. It is disappointing that in an age of social disintegration and isolation that the life of someone who cannot defend himself is held up to the microscope of public scrutiny yet again by a media that has the power to improve on social relations, rather than create division. Woe betide anyone who should pay my life such scrutiny. What about yours?

Ego boosting

It's time for some positive self thought, so I'm instigating a few questions for myself. Play along if you wish. It should be good for the ego.

1. What's my favourite photo of myself and why?
Taken in 1993 on the Giant's Causeway in Northern Ireland. I'm wearing an oil skin coat and jeans, hair flying round my face. I have a huge grin and I remember feeling very happy, very free and really excited. The photo captures the emotions of the time.

2. What's my most valuable personal trait?
My loyalty. I am born in the Year of the Dog. You could not pay me any greater compliment than to call me a dog!

3. What is my best physical asset?
My blue eyes.

4. What's my greatest achievement?
Rebuilding my self esteem and losing weight after my separation.

5. What's my greatest professional achievement?
Gaining the trust and respect of the staff I currently manage.

6. Where is my most special memory and what is it?
Being lifted onto my father's shoulders and walking down the main street of Yarraville. The sensation of being picked up and lifted over his head is one I remember vividly.

7. What would I want as my epitaph?
A loyal, honest and reliable friend.

Age does weary them

I'm spending Easter with my parents, visiting from Melbourne. At 79 years of age, I've been at pains to tailor our activities to those that will not test their endurance or athleticism. Mum's knees are not too good. Dad's are maginally better. Stairs are a challenge, as are uneven surfaces for Mum. To be fair, Mum is also less than 5' tall, so any step higher than 4 inches is a mountain to her.

So what do I notice about them aging other than their failing agility? Mum's memory is sliding. Just the short term stuff. Her memory for dates and anniversaries is still fine and her general knowledge is superb. It's the conversations you had yesterday or last week she forgets. She's always repeated herself and her stories - but it's getting worse and she honestly does not remember. Dad's memory is still sharp.

Mum's got a problem lifting her right toes properly that predisposes her to tripping. I'm concerned she'll go face first into the pavement or trip on a step one day and break something. She doesn't lift her feet properly anymore when walking - its more of shuffling motion. Something she hated us doing as kids. I think she just can't raise her feet completely off the ground.

Dad still gets about OK, although one knee is not performing so well. I had not realised how much he has taken over the household chores. He mops and polishes the floors every week and vacuums another day each week - the only two days Mum is out on her own at her Tai Chi and water aerobics. I always though it was Dad who was slowing the quickest - his bones and joints seizing up. It's the other way round. My mother has become more elderly - not frail yet, but heading that way. It's a hard thing to watch. It's harder reminding myself that the hearing problems and memory issues need patience and understanding, rather than annoyance. There but for the Grace of God...

Why did I study sciences?

I've been taking two classes this semester for uni, an elective and a major. The major, Creative Writing is the best fun I have had in years by myself. When else do I get to sit and write complete guff, spurred on by the guidance of other writers such as Kate Grenville (author of "The Secret River")? I'm learning to create characters that are mosaics, no-one I know, but pieces of many. Creating scenes, fictional biographies, contemporizing a fairytale (that was REALLY fun!). Then I get to share some of my work with others in the same subject and hear what they think. This course is soooooo different to my previous pursuits and I am loving it. This is pure pleasure - sitting, reading and writing. Bring it on!

The realist's ideal

What makes someone the right person to spend the rest of your life with? How do you know you've found that person? Is it the passion? What about the conversation? Commons interests? For me, it is the complete lack of discomfort in the interactions, the way conversation flows easily, there's no topic out of bounds and the trust is absolute. No secrets, no envy, no raging arguments. He must be confident in himself, but humble and accepting of others fallibility; community minded, reflective, altruistic.

It's taken until this point in my life to realise that you can have a relationship in which there may be differences of opinion, but that doesn't have to translate to an argument, raised voices or slammed doors. Issues that raise strong feelings may need to be discussed at a later stage, but it's about accepting that your partner needs a little space and that they will come back when they've had the chance to think things through.

It's rare to find someone with whom you feel so completely comfortable with. In my (almost) 37 years, it's happened twice - once when I was 17, once at 35. The first is now one of my dearest friends, someone I believe I've known before - he feels the same. We have shared a past life and will probably have a connection into the next.

The other is a dear friend that I still think of daily and miss every bit as much as I did the day he left. We haven't known each other before - he's about this lifetime. He has all the qualities that to me, are essential. But then, it's precisely because of that very unique and rare love that I don't chase him - just try to maintain a friendship. The primary ideal for such a love is not your own happiness, but that of the one you have fallen for. If he needs to be elsewhere to be happy, you can't fight it. Ask why, cry, lock yourself up for a time until the hurt isn't so raw, but don't fight for them to come back. If you feel the need to do that, then it's not the one for you. His happiness, his free choice to be with you, is necessary for you to be happy too.

"Hey", you say, "But that means they may leave you forever. You may be single forever." True. And I wish there had been someone here when I crashed to the floor this morning. But if I have to force the conversation, work at the contact, wonder when the argument will be or doubt his honesty, I'll choose to stay single. I'm a realist at heart, but when it comes to romance, I'm really and idealist. I can blame Angel for that. He made me realise the ideal is possible. Without it, nothing else comes close.