April 30th, 2023Kyle’s Rant

JUST back from visiting my dad in NZ. Left on Saturday, back on Wednesday. Long enough.
I decided during Covid, when we couldn’t see anyone, that I would catch
up with the old man twice a year. He’s 78 and fit as a fiddle but you know…you never
know what is around the corner. In 2020 it was a pandemic. I mean, who saw that
coming?
But unlike pre-Covid days (how easily does that slip off the tongue now, I wonder
if they used to talk about the world wars like that) I don’t feel like I have to stay for
weeks on end and “make the most of it”.
I know, NZ is not that far away and some would almost call it another state
of Australia, but you do have to get through customs and Dad lives in a tiny town
called Coopers Beach which means also adding a domestic flight and then about a
40-minute car ride. So, you know, it is travel.
Anyway, I found that a few solid days of bonding was enough. I love my Dad but
sometimes I just wanted him to shut up for a minute. Maybe even 10 minutes. He is
a whirlwind of a bloke, loves a chat and just hanging with him is exhausting.
Luckily my 15-year-old great-nephew was visiting at the same time so provided
a bit of a buffer. Sort of. The trouble with teenagers is that they don’t realise it’s a bit
rude to visit and then after a while just zone out on their various devices. Being an
older polite person I had to listen to every single anecdote, even the ones I had heard
a thousand times before.
And I feel guilty too. Dad’s wife, my step-mother of 30 years, died last April and
I watch as he loosens his grip on tidiness and attention to detail. The crockery and
cutlery need a good clean and there’s always a pot or pan left on the stove top or
bench. Jackie will be looking down and not happy.
The towels are getting threadbare and he’s got caught up with some mates who
are all about hand-me-down clothing, which is commendably sustainable but doesn’t
quite hit the mark. Shirts are too big and jeans are too small, shoes are scuffed, that
sort of thing.
Yeah, I know I could clean the house and take him shopping but it would just be
a stopgap thing and perhaps he would start feeling bad about himself. So you, that’s
me, just go along with the visit as planned and head out on his boat for a fish, cook
that up after you have double checked for bones after Dad’s filleting efforts, and then
have a few beers as you/he reminisce about the old days, while the young bloke looks
at YouTube and wishes his holiday away.
And in a few days the visit is over and you fly home to Australia and book a flight
for another six months and just hope that you don’t get a call to say you are needed
earlier than that. And you tell everyone you had a great trip, and that your dad is
great and all is well on the other side of the “Ditch”.
Now before you get sad about my dad, all is well. As I said he is a whirlwind of
a bloke and already keen on finding a new life partner. So he has joined a few dating
sites, not quite Tinder, but the over 60s set, and gets a bit of interest. He’s been on
a few dates and someone might have stayed over once after a nice dinner – separate
bedrooms of course. He is nothing if not a gentleman.
So if all goes to plan, his plan, someone will one day join him in his home, head
out for a fish on his boat and for a chat at night. And while I don’t expect them to
clean up for my visits it would be nice if they got Dad back on track – and out of an
increasingly messy bachelor pad.
I love my Dad but don’t want to live with him. Rant, over.