Forever Baby: Jenny’s Story - A Mother’s Diary. Mary Burbidge

up latest. Jen had a long, long swim. I had a short one, but enjoyable. Jen, Thoz and I went for a late afternoon walk; past Hazeldean where I visited a patient, Thoz barked at the residents and Jen tipped her wheelchair over into a garden bed; past the milkbar where we bought treats; past the Honourable Ralph’s house where I slipped my neatly typed letter inviting him to launch the Walk Against Want and to come to Geraldine’s farewell party into his letterbox; past the Life Saving Club where I chatted to Iris about the future of the Church and the State, and to Jill about writing and the jellyfish sting on her face; and along the Crystal where I took photos of Thoz pulling Jen for a press release about the Walk Against Want for the local papers.

      Joey said she’s decided to do Journalism at RMIT instead of Arts at Melbourne Uni. She heard from a friend that only four places were offered in Journalism in second-round offers. So, congratulations! How wonderful! Would you like to write an article for the local papers about the WAW then?

      And another highlight. Jim’s back in town with red P-plates on his big orange car and a penchant for doing the dishes without being asked. Welcome back!

      Annabel crept off so silently, without a sign of her passage. Wondering. She’d had a lot of candles glowing on her bed-head late last night – I saw them through the window as we came home. That meant we slept in, quick swim, steam-shovel breakfast for Jen, Andrew off to the station with his toast. Jim up at the wrong time – Jo’s got the bathroom, I’ve got the paper. Trudged off barefoot, unwashed, unread. Jo had time to bring in yesterday’s washing before her train. I suppose that’s something. Took the remains of my pay for her books. (You’ll note this style is reminiscent of The Shipping News, my current bedtime read)

      Annabel is in the depths. She decided today to stop dancing for this year, to give her back a chance to recover. She’ll keep doing her academic subjects, and will do lots of physio, swimming, special exercises and even acupuncture, and hope. Everyone is saying she’s made a wise decision, but she still feels miserable, poor lamb.

      Looking back, I am also dismayed and remorseful to read of warnings and premonitions that went unheeded and to notice my light-hearted preoccupation with death.

      A crack and a thump and a call from Jo got me out of bed early. Jen was sitting on the floor, unconcerned, with the thick dowel that holds her net up broken. I wonder how that happened. It seemed to break her fall alright, but there’s always the worry that she may get entangled in it somehow.

      Jenny had a fit while snoozing in the bath before tea. I heard the sudden splash and went in, but she didn’t go under at all – when she’s lying stretched out her head is on the rim at the end and it just turned to one side. If she was sitting up and jerked forward in a fit it could be bad. It’s one of my recurring nightmares that I wake up in a sweat and panic from – that Jenny has a fit in the bath and drowns. But she does enjoy a nice long loll in a warm deep bath and I don’t deprive her of it – just keep checking and listening for sudden tell-tale splashes.

      My sleep was disturbed by an awful dream. One of those dreams where you’d swear you were lying awake thinking, and that go on after you wake up, disturbing the day. I’d gone in to do a 9.30 Board hearing (which I don’t do any more) and wasted a lot of time looking at all the new drapery on the walls and the Hearing went on and on, and I started to get anxious that I wouldn’t get home in time to get Jen out of the pool in time for the photographer at 11.00, especially as I was using public transport. This is where it started getting more nightmarish – Jen left home alone, in the pool!, while I go by train and tram for a two hour GAB hearing and a photographer arriving at 11.00, looking through the window because no-one seems to be home and seeing . . . This is where I wake up, repeating like that little girl on the Comedy Company, ‘But I didn’t! I didn’t do it! No! Not me! I didn’t, I didn’t!’

      Geraldine, Jen and I went for a walk to the Rifle Range estate, strolling down Rifle Range Drive and marvelling at the monstrosities mushrooming to left and right. The Burbidge Drive tombstone is now incorporated in someone’s front garden, set in lush green instant turf. I wonder how the householders will react when the mourners gather on their front lawn and the roadway to sing a few hymns and dig a little hole to deposit my ashes in. Pity I won’t be there to see it.

      And ‘before’, April Fool’s Day was just a day for silly jokes.

      April Fool’s day. Joey came out of the bathroom and said, ‘Do you know there’s a system for blind people to drive now, with the dog barking the signals for turning and stopping.’

      I started to point out the difficulties and then she pinched and punched me and I woke up. ‘Oh, good one Jo! April Fool! You really carried that off well.’

      ‘No, it’s true. I heard it on the radio.’

      So she was the April Fool, falling for the trick on the radio.

Photographs

       The way we were (1974 — 1995)

      Jenny’s first birthday

      Such a happy little vegemite.

      Waiting for lunch

      Look what I can do

      A beautiful sleeping angel

      There was a swing on the patio before we built that pool

      Taking Anthony for a ride

      Jen had adventures in this trailer

      Jenny with Joey, Ron and Goldie just after we moved to Willy in 1997

      Happy 9th birthday

      Birthday for a big girl

      Still a beautiful sleeping angel

      Slim and smiling at twenty

      Jenny opening presents with Julie at her 21st birthday party

      “Walk Against Want’ along the Maribrynong, 1995

Part Two

1