/məˈmo:riəl/ n. 1 something designed to preserve the memory of a person, event, etc. as a monument, a periodic observance, etc. … –adj. 3 preserving the memory of a person or thing; commemorative: memorial services. 4 of or relating to the memory.
Last Sunday was my Nan’s memorial. We all went down to Gunnamatta Bay mid-morning. Mum, Dad and Grandma had reserved a couple of tables, and laid out tablecloths, and some Singapore orchids as a bit of decoration. I helped Dad pick up the food he’d ordered from a catering company at Cronulla, then we just waited around for people to turn up. Most of the relatives were there, and a fair few people had also helped out by bringing some cakes and what not. Because Nan said she never wanted a funeral, there wasn’t any formal “order of service” or singing, or serious speeches, or anything like that. Mum and Dad had put together a little booklet summary of Nan’s life story and gave them out to anybody who was interested. (It wasn’t until after everyone had a copy that we realised they’d misprinted the number of grandchildren Nan had — “seven” instead of “eight”. Names weren’t mentioned, so we don’t know which one was left out … maybe it was me!) Dad did briefly say thanks to everyone to coming. It was a nice day, and Rachel and I walked down to the bay, and I had a bit of a reminisce about when we were kids used to jump off the — jetty, I guess it was. As the day was winding up and people started to head off, the sky went dark and heavy clouds came over. There were faint rumbles of thunder and a few spits of rain, so Rachel and I decided to get out of the storm before it got too heavy; she wouldn’t have enjoyed a pregnant 500 metre dash to the car in the pouring rain! We’d thought we’d be able to make a fairly quick getaway, but there’d been some kind of Guinness Book of Records superhero dress-up record-breaking kind of festival in Cronulla plaza that afternoon, and everyone else had the same idea. There was a bit of a traffic jam, and it took a while to get back to Mum and Dad’s. We had dinner there with Mat, Binni, and the kids, and Grandma, who was staying over. We played “Pass The Bomb” for the first time, and it ended up being a bit of a hit! Everyone seemed to have fun, and it was a later night than we were anticipating.
My old schoolmate Belinda passed away on Wednesday, aged 33. She had had cancer for a couple of years, and some weeks ago the doctors decided to stop her treatment to allow her some time with family and friends at home. The memorial service is in Queensland on Friday, and so I’ll be at work. It’s a fully booked day in the clinic, and I don’t think I’ll be able to make it to the service, which is disappointing. I was hoping to go. I’m sure there’ll be lots of people there.
On a different — and somewhat happier — note, Rachel and I have been trotting off to our hospital for weekly pre-natal classes over the past few weeks, and they have been fantastic. I’ve learned so much! It’s amazing how much I thought I knew about pregnancy and childbirth, but really, I had no idea. We’ve watched DVDs of women in labour and giving birth, but last night, one of the couples turned up and it looked like she was actually in the beginning stages of labour! She looked very uncomfortable, and told us she was getting regular pains, about five minutes apart! The midwife was very supportive, and advised them to go home (she wasn’t likely to take any class information in!) and see what happens. Apparently, in the last few weeks of pregnancy, it’s possible for a few “false starts” to occur! Poor thing; she was very nervous, but perhaps next week (our last session) they’ll turn up with a new baby! It was quite a shock to see her, though, and I think it really hit home to the other couples in the room (about 10 altogether) that we’re all on the home stretch! Rachel has been going well herself, but is feeling very “heavy” and has difficulty turning over! She likes to frighten me in the middle of the night by waking up and crying out, “Ow, ow, ow, ow, ow…” It turns out it’s usually her hips aching, or her back twinging, or something … not her waters breaking, which is the immediate thought that comes to mind!
I’ve got a fairly relaxed weekend coming up, but Rachel’s going out to a friend’s hens’ night … with an “Arabian” theme! She was worried about what she might be able to wear — at 37 weeks pregnant, it’s hard enough to find anything to wear, let alone fancy dress!
Last Sunday was my Nan’s memorial. We all went down to Gunnamatta Bay mid-morning. Mum, Dad and Grandma had reserved a couple of tables, and laid out tablecloths, and some Singapore orchids as a bit of decoration. I helped Dad pick up the food he’d ordered from a catering company at Cronulla, then we just waited around for people to turn up. Most of the relatives were there, and a fair few people had also helped out by bringing some cakes and what not. Because Nan said she never wanted a funeral, there wasn’t any formal “order of service” or singing, or serious speeches, or anything like that. Mum and Dad had put together a little booklet summary of Nan’s life story and gave them out to anybody who was interested. (It wasn’t until after everyone had a copy that we realised they’d misprinted the number of grandchildren Nan had — “seven” instead of “eight”. Names weren’t mentioned, so we don’t know which one was left out … maybe it was me!) Dad did briefly say thanks to everyone to coming. It was a nice day, and Rachel and I walked down to the bay, and I had a bit of a reminisce about when we were kids used to jump off the — jetty, I guess it was. As the day was winding up and people started to head off, the sky went dark and heavy clouds came over. There were faint rumbles of thunder and a few spits of rain, so Rachel and I decided to get out of the storm before it got too heavy; she wouldn’t have enjoyed a pregnant 500 metre dash to the car in the pouring rain! We’d thought we’d be able to make a fairly quick getaway, but there’d been some kind of Guinness Book of Records superhero dress-up record-breaking kind of festival in Cronulla plaza that afternoon, and everyone else had the same idea. There was a bit of a traffic jam, and it took a while to get back to Mum and Dad’s. We had dinner there with Mat, Binni, and the kids, and Grandma, who was staying over. We played “Pass The Bomb” for the first time, and it ended up being a bit of a hit! Everyone seemed to have fun, and it was a later night than we were anticipating.My old schoolmate Belinda passed away on Wednesday, aged 33. She had had cancer for a couple of years, and some weeks ago the doctors decided to stop her treatment to allow her some time with family and friends at home. The memorial service is in Queensland on Friday, and so I’ll be at work. It’s a fully booked day in the clinic, and I don’t think I’ll be able to make it to the service, which is disappointing. I was hoping to go. I’m sure there’ll be lots of people there.
On a different — and somewhat happier — note, Rachel and I have been trotting off to our hospital for weekly pre-natal classes over the past few weeks, and they have been fantastic. I’ve learned so much! It’s amazing how much I thought I knew about pregnancy and childbirth, but really, I had no idea. We’ve watched DVDs of women in labour and giving birth, but last night, one of the couples turned up and it looked like she was actually in the beginning stages of labour! She looked very uncomfortable, and told us she was getting regular pains, about five minutes apart! The midwife was very supportive, and advised them to go home (she wasn’t likely to take any class information in!) and see what happens. Apparently, in the last few weeks of pregnancy, it’s possible for a few “false starts” to occur! Poor thing; she was very nervous, but perhaps next week (our last session) they’ll turn up with a new baby! It was quite a shock to see her, though, and I think it really hit home to the other couples in the room (about 10 altogether) that we’re all on the home stretch! Rachel has been going well herself, but is feeling very “heavy” and has difficulty turning over! She likes to frighten me in the middle of the night by waking up and crying out, “Ow, ow, ow, ow, ow…” It turns out it’s usually her hips aching, or her back twinging, or something … not her waters breaking, which is the immediate thought that comes to mind!
I’ve got a fairly relaxed weekend coming up, but Rachel’s going out to a friend’s hens’ night … with an “Arabian” theme! She was worried about what she might be able to wear — at 37 weeks pregnant, it’s hard enough to find anything to wear, let alone fancy dress!
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