Читать книгу Hard Cuddles - James Harding - Страница 9

THE BIG H

‘Delay is the deadliest form of denial.’

— C. Northcote Parkinson

Mum was one of five and arrived by boat after three months at sea. She was five when she came over to Australia. Her sisters called her London Lady because Mum didn’t continue with the immigrant concept of sticking with your own. She had lots of friends outside the family and this was challenging for her sisters. My mum was also naughty and had an addictive streak, like my good self. It wasn’t till recently that Mum explained that she was expelled from her high school. She had a charmed childhood being the youngest. She was very tall and had beautiful coloured skin.

After Mum was expelled she attended a business college—this had been decided by my grandparents and her eldest sister. In her family, the eldest sister had a big say in things. Mum went on to marry a man who had been badly abused as a young boy. This young boy grew up and repeated those violent habits with my mother.

Mum’s first marriage ended after her abusive husband was caught red-handed by Gramps. The man was then removed from the situation. I imagine it was a big deal. Being Catholic and divorced would have been very tricky. Enter my Dad.

Mum told me she needed to work through a lot to feel comfortable to love again. Counsellors and healers weren’t around as much back then. So Mum had to get through this by herself and trusting men would have been a massive challenge.

From all reports Dad was a full-blown stalker. Picture Matt Dillon in Something About Mary and you’re on the right track. Poor Mum was still very fragile from her previous marriage and you have my old man wolf whistling at her work. Mum used to hide behind poles when she saw Dad’s Kingswood coming but that didn’t stop him. He just used to pull over and say ‘Is that you hiding there Trish? Jump on in.’

Their first date was a debacle. Dad overdid it on the scotch-and-cokes and spewed all the way home. What a mess. Apparently he had his head out the window, giving her the ‘I’m not normally like this Trish’.

I have seen photos of the two of them in their day and they were a really cool-looking couple. Dad was a surfer, so he was always bronzed and Mum had the Sri Lankan tan going herself. They looked really happy and healthy. Dad saw a good thing in Mum and he wasn’t going to miss out. Shows what a terrific judge of character he was. Thirty-nine years of marriage, three children and seven grandkids is not a bad return for effort.

Dad was born and raised in Northcote, a completely different area to what it is today. His dad, Big Al, served in the war in Papua New Guinea and loved a drink. Dad’s mum, Claire, also loved a drink and between the two of them it was challenging. There was lots of love, but the effects of alcoholism can be disruptive for a young bloke trying to find his way in life.

Dad never complains about his upbringing. You can tell there is still genuine care and deep emotion for his parents. Apparently Big Al had a bit of the devil in him, like myself. He loved to hang out at the pub with his mates for too long, he loved a smoke, a beer and a bet. He was also a bit of ladies’ man, very competent on the dance floor and generally just loved a good time. The only problem with people like Big Al and me is our capacity to enjoy ourselves is completely different to everyone else’s.

Dad’s greatest accomplishment was bucking the trend of alcoholism in our lineage. After doing some work around addiction, I found that the effects of war can be felt generations on and alcoholism is one of the reasons for this. When those men came home from war, there wasn’t support for them. So they drank to dull the pain and yearned for the camaraderie. That stopped with Dad—there was no way his children were going to deal with what he had to. But sometimes addiction is like a wildfire: it can jump a whole generation and flare up in another one.

Dad was a decent sportsman; he was a handy leg-spin bowler and batsman. He once bowled a whole side out with figures of 10/41 in his local comp. Dad also played at Fitzroy U/19 when Gary Wilson and Kevin Murray were there. He played in the premierships with Northcote Park where I believe he was an undersized ruckman. His other passion is the Collingwood Football Club. Victoria Park was only a drop punt from his house and his pathological love of this club is something he passed onto me. Dad is an amazing character, his ability to love is immense and when he gets behind something, he does it with his whole heart. The Collingwood Football Club is richer with him to support them.

Surfing was his real passion, which is unique with him being a northern suburbs boy. He just yearned for the salt water, very much like myself. It’s hard to put into words; a good mate of mine says emotion is the ocean. When he was 18 Dad came home from a weekend of surfing and his mother had passed away due to the effects of alcohol.

So it was just Dad and Big Al left. Dad was engaged to a girl very similar to my first serious girlfriend, her name was Jenny. She was a model and very attractive, she was also a drinker and didn’t put the same emphasis on health and wellbeing as Dad. So when Mum came into Dad’s life, the old man’s focus shifted.

Mum fell in love with Dad, especially when she saw his house and met Big Al. Their house wasn’t a dump, but it definitely wasn’t a plush Camberwell-type arrangement. Mum loved that Dad was still house proud, even though it was humble.

When Mum met Big Al she was amazed at how affectionate he was for those times. He was always hugging and kissing Dad. Think about that for one second—Big Al was born in 1911 and he was a hugger and kisser, he was way ahead of his time. Dad was very much the parent and had to keep Big Al on a tight leash. Mum loved going to the pub with Big Al and this suited him perfectly. He was very proud to show his mates down at the Carters Arms Hotel his boy and his lovely new partner.

Mum and Dad married and Big Al sold the Northcote property to give them enough money to put a deposit on our house in McKinnon. He lived with them till he passed away of stomach cancer. Just before he passed, he told Mum that he could see her with three beautiful children. How amazing is that? That’s exactly what Mum ended up having.

I would love to have met Big Al, I think we would have been a great combination down at the pub. He had this pool cue that he always used at his local. Dad managed to grab it when he passed away. They called him the master at the pool table. I had it framed with his service number, nickname and a few nice photos of him and Claire. It’s a nice memory and a fitting tribute.