As we are all individuals, which I fiercely embrace, our personal definitions of "family", will be just as varied as any other topic.
My family is incredibly fluid. People and animals have moved in and out like the tide. My beloved Michael, with whom I've travelled an amazing ten-year journey, is my constant and my compass. My children will remain in my heart forever, all seven of them. Those three that I have seen grow into extraordinary adults - be assured of my unconditional love (even when they are driving me nuts!).
I have inherited Michael's family as part of loving him. I am pretty sure they think I'm a total weirdo...however, they have most kindly taken me until their collective wing as I adore him.
Dogs and cats, mice and birds, rats and fish, I've had a few...
The current menagerie stands at Ruby the Problem Child Beagle, Pip the Exceedingly Alert Jack Russell, the Fickle Fairweather Feline (also Ruby) and Red the Pirate Parrot. Last Wednesday, we were off to the vet, for Madame Cat's renal and blood pressure monitoring and a discussion concerning Pip's ruptured cruciate ligament (the one that footballers always injure). His Hopalong Cassidy waddle had taken a turn for the worse. Pip, always anxious, was progressing towards becoming a very miserable Jack Russell.
We decided to leave the Blunder Beagle with Jan and Greg. Fellow artists, suppliers of excellent clothing and providers of scrumptious food, they are definitely part of our family. On Wednesday afternoon, they were also deserving of a medal. Ruby is the most vacant of dogs, usually ignoring us with cheerful anonymity. We had believed that she genuinely had no tremendous affection for us at all. We were just the meal ticket, with a comfortable sofa thrown in for good measure.
Oh, my giddy aunt! We discovered how wrong we were. During the four hours of our absence, she howled and fussed and grizzled and moaned. Macca, the canine resident, wisely gave her a wide berth. Periodically, she would move under Jan's legs and sigh pathetically. A short walk with them did nothing to raise her out of dejection.
And then I arrived to pick her up...
I have yet to view a more astonishing sight than sixteen kilos of short-legged, ecstatic Beagle running (!) at full speed towards me. Ruby nearly knocked me over in her delight at being liberated. She then circled the car at a gallop, searching for the open door. This action was performed by a dog that is reliably carsick, even during relatively short trips. Once in the car, she lay down on the front seat, bliss enveloping her soul.
The vet appointment proved to be a success. In the back of my mind is always a flicker of the possibility of euthanasia for our increasingly elderly pack. Pip was examined from head to toe by the calm and cheerful Ingrid. Madam Cat was monitored by the ever efficient Graeme out the back. The verdict? Ruby the cat had lost a little weight, but her blood pressure and kidney function were perfect. We considered that as a fourteen-year-old cat, she would have some arthritic discomfort. Within five minutes, I had been trained to give her an injection, which will continue weekly for a month. I passed my Vet Nurse for Dummies with flying colours. And I think the medication is already allowing her to move more easily.
As for Pip, he has developed arthritis in his left leg, which means both back legs are dodgy. Already on an anti-inflammatory, we have started him on pain relief as well. Method: break open a capsule. Give him half the powder in the morning and the other at night. This is why Pip is family. Who else in their right mind would separate a capsule of powder into two tiny portions...We are waiting patiently for the stuff to give him big relief. However, he appears less fretful. A good sign.
As far as our friends go, we have quite a number, both in person and online, whom I would consider family. Having the Gallery has opened our eyes to a new and lively cohort whom I would never have met otherwise. Then, there are my Lefty friends, my literary friends, my disability friends, my quirky friends and my outrageous laugh-out-loud friends who make a ho-hum day a great deal better.
All part of my family.
Then there are my brothers and their families. Following Mum's death, we were reunited after thirty-nine years of separation. We have packed several lifetimes of sharing between the four of us over the last few years. We have discovered secrets and perceptions that turned out to be ambiguous or manipulative. We formed a bond that will now never be broken again.
Which is why I am flying to Melbourne tomorrow. My brother Michael's partner of over thirty-five years is dying. I have only met Jenny once, prior to her cancer diagnosis. Loving her family and her property, she was welcoming and open to us on that visit. I have only met three of Michael's children. Christopher, his eldest son, who had his own demons and Rebekah, a hard-working young mum of three children. His oldest daughter, Sarah, lives in Bundaberg. She, Geoff and Jess are a newer branch of my family and again, now I have found them, I intend to never let them go.
Emily, one of Michael's daughters contacted me also on that momentous Wednesday, asking me to support Michael. There was no difficulty in making the decision. I'm off to a bloody huge Big Smoke in the morning. To meet a new bunch of nephews and nieces and hear their stories. To see and hold and love Jenny. To listen and hug and laugh and cry with Michael. And to hopefully become a link for Michael and his children and his step-daughter, with whom he doesn't have the easiest of relationships.
I am no fool. Michael is not an angel, nor does he pretend to be. I would just like to bash his stubborn head against a brick wall every now and then...
Wish me luck in this latest endeavour. I'll be the short, roundish woman at Melbourne Airport with a Western Australian wheat ear between my teeth.
And introducing - SOME of my family -
