My husband Andrew, who began this blog in July 2011, died peacefully on September 3rd 2012, at the age of 83, following a sudden brief decline after long-term chronic illness. As I go through his notebooks, I come across pieces of writing which I'd like to share here. I'll date them when written, as far as I can ascertain (not all his scribblings are dated). At some point this blog will become an archive, without further additions. — Rosemary Nissen-Wade

Monday, July 25, 2011

Seen on TV

A tribe of Aboriginal people, very young to very old, meet in desert country to celebrate their lives and their culture. They sing tribal songs together and cherish friendships.

They remember when the big atom bombs decimated their numbers, but they have learned to be patient with the ways of the white and continue to flourish in dreadful circumstances.



This refers to atomic bomb tests at Maralinga, central Australia in 1953. 

Sunday, July 24, 2011

Sunday

Today is a day for bed. Levi is the first to arrive, snuggling up to me while I enjoy my breakfast of muesli and sliced bananas.

Fifteen minutes later Freya leaps on the bed, looks around and settles in her own space.

Saturday, July 23, 2011

Consultation

Saturday morning — the surgery has been quiet over the last two hours. A trickle of patients leaves the waiting room. By 10.30 we are alone and the call comes from a young, attractive doctor near the entrance. I answer questions and Rosemary fills in the gaps. 

We leave, and Rosemary drops off a sample of urine I took at home to the lab across the road, and a new script from the doc to the pharmacy.

Friday, July 22, 2011

Pain

The pain in my legs has largely gone away. A mystery! Unless God has at last adhered to my wishes!

Thursday, July 21, 2011

New bra

She strides into the bedroom, pulling on her new bra.

'I love my new bra,' she spruiks, tugging it into place.

Wednesday, July 20, 2011

Over breakfast

Freya and Levi lie on the bed, occasionally turning over.

When Rosemary comes in with my breakfast, I ask how she is.

'And what about you?' she asks me.

'Sore,' I say. 'Very sore.'

Tuesday, July 19, 2011

My companion




My blue wheely walker sits by the wall awaiting my attention, its empty cage hanging.