Kath's Reflections on Family & Framily

A wordy entry written 1^st July 2012

A cold and wet Welsh summer's day... a view of the headlands, the cliffs, wild seas, white water smashing against black rock, hovering and circling sea birds crying out hauntingly, foxgloves and grasses in various hues of green and gold bent in the wind that whistles and howls... a hot cup of tea, Howie napping under a doona on the couch, Ayesha with her nose in her Kindle, washing tumbling in the dryer. We are in the barely pronounceable Pwll Deri YHA, perched alone on a coastal hill top in Pembrokeshire. What a place to stop, to breathe, to collect our thoughts, to domesticate with some washing & cooking.

I'm thinking of the people we've seen so far on our way, of connections and re-connections with people we love- our family and our framily (friends who become like family – phrase courtesy of Libby, my framilial sister-woman).

There's Ali, my aunt... not so much older than me that we can be called a generation apart, yet our experiences growing up seem so different that I learn from her that our Australian and English childhoods were truly worlds apart. She helps me tease out stories from my Grandma. That's my Nanny, Irene, who at 93 years old never ceases to amaze. I've learnt much of her life from her but wish I had days and weeks more to hear her stories, and piece them together and understand the way the people, places and times fit, or not! She's experienced, endured and survived incredible things and changes. A childhood bout of pleurisy left her deeply scarred and the treatment seems so barbaric to us now. She hid under a cake oven with a cat while pregnant with my Dad during bombing raids on London in 1940. Then there are the myriad of jobs she took, people she knew, places she lived. Listening to her brings the past to life, but she's living now. Just imagine outliving so many people you know and love...

Gabi, Roger, Michael and Peter welcomed us with the embraces and cheer and warmth that I've always known from them from the moment we first met. Living so far from extended family gives you the awkwardness of meeting people you 'know' but have never seen. This mob have never felt like strangers to me. We eat, drink, chat, laugh. Ayesha & Peter dance. We forget to take photos … maybe it's a sign of being so completely in the moment with them. The moments are too few and too short. I want to bring them home with me. If only... Maybe Lapland one day.

We visit my dear old friend, T, in beautiful Dorset countryside. It's joyful to just grab some food, throw it together and get down deep to talking about what matters – painful, political, psychological, philosophical. T has always kept me on my toes and her great expectations push me to want myself to do more with her percipience, persistence, resilience, bolshiness (yep- I swallowed a dictionary... well, she makes me want to be impressive!)  And I want her to see it all in herself – she is so much more than she believes.

And we visit our beloved Lib, Gra & Bee who give us health for body, soul & spirit with good food, gorgeous surrounds, fun game playing and inspirational ideas – always! We're building a pictionary card list, folks, and will work on the artwork soon. Aya's happy to find she & Bee still have much in common – vegetablists/arians, animal advocates, netballers and Whovians both.