Letter to Students 01 June 2009

Dear Reader

I am writing to you at my table in my office, listening to my favourite song, My Way, sung by Keiko Lee, a Japanese Korean jazz singer.  I love music, and My Way is the song that I would like sung at my funeral, as I like to think it sums up my life. 

There were times, I am sure you knew, when I bit off more than I could chew…I faced it all and I stood tall and did it my way.  I have loved,… I  have had my share of losing. And now, as tears subside, I find it all so amusing. To think, I did all that, and may I say, not in a shy way, oh no, oh no not me, I did it my way. What is a man what has he got, if not himself then he has not? To say the things he truly feels and not the words of one who kneels.  The record shows I took the blows and did it my way. Regrets, I have had a few, but then to few to mention…….

8^th June, 2009

I have just returned to this letter, and I am adding comments to the letter I began, but did not complete!  What is new these days?

 Han hates the song, My Way, as it reminds him of my wandering days, before he took my skates off, as he liked to tell everyone!  Perhaps he tried to take my skates off but therein lies the inherent problem in our relationship.  I never really wanted them to have them taken off, and in the end I realised that I couldn’t, and Han realised that too. Han and I had followed such different paths when we met that it is amazing that we ever thought we could walk down the same road at all.  Han had married out of his family home, and I had never married until I accepted Han’s proposal.  I had had proposals before, mind you, but the timing had never been right.  It is true that timing in everything is so important.  When I met Han, I had worked in Alexandria, Cairo, London, Tokyo, Yokohama and Kawasaki, and had travelled to many different parts of the world.  There were still so many places I hadn’t explored, and still haven’t, but I had decided that it was time to return to Dunedin to look at options for my five year old daughter, Suny.  I was ready to settle down, and make a nest in which Suny and I could be happy. When I met Han and his four young teenage children, I thought I had met the perfect ready-made family for Suny and me, and indeed I had.  For all the trials and tribulations we have had during the almost twenty years we have been together, never once did I regret meeting these four special children, and I don’t think they ever regretted meeting me.  I can’t even remember any significant arguments which we had.  The only argument which sticks in my mind is the one I had with second son Marcus, about six months after meeting him.  All four children were living with Han and me, and it was coming up to Christmas when we were invited to go to carol singing at the home of some new friends in the neighbourhood. They had a beautiful house overlooking the harbour, and I romanticised as to how wonderful it would be to go and sing carols with my new family.  However, when I suggested the idea to my fifteen year old step son, at an age which I had scarcely any knowledge of, except my own rather sheltered experience of a fifteen year old girl, Marcus immediately rejected the idea!  I went away feeling rejected and dejected, but when I told Han of Marcus’s decision, he told me that I should confront Marcus with my true feelings.  This is something I had not done up to that point, preferring to leave any of the disciplining to Han, and stepping back from any conflict as was the custom in my own family.  Avoid conflict at all cost, was our family motto when I grew up in our home with my mother, father and sister.   However, this particular evening, I took a big gulp of courage, and knocked on my young stepson’s bedroom door.  I remember him opening the door tentatively, and I calmly asked again if he would like to come. He again said that he didn’t want to, and it was at this point that I think I lost the plot.  I ranted and raved about how selfish he was, and shut the door firmly behind me and stomped across the house to the kitchen where I threw myself into making dinner.  Marcus sheepishly came out a few minutes later and apologised for his behaviour, and conceded that he would go to the gathering if I really wanted him to go.  By this time, I had calmed down and thought about the situation without all the pent up feelings of deflated ego and crushed expectations.  I felt good that I had vented my true mind, but also realised after that moment of release of anger, that it was I who had created the romantic image of the Sound of Music family, and it was not for Marcus to live up to my expectations created in the story.  As soon as I heard that he was willing to go for me, I immediately said I didn’t want him to go, and I could see the confusion sweep across his angst ridden face.  Anger quickly receded as I saw the young man trying so hard to please his wicked stepmother, and this interaction ironically sealed our closeness, which has continued to this day. In fact, I managed to phone him yesterday in Lavernham, England, and congratulate him on his first wedding anniversary as he and his wife Jo entered their room after having had a celebratory dinner at the Swan Hotel, where we had joined them in celebrating their wedding last year.  Both Marcus and I said how much we loved each other,and how much we mutually admired the lives we were leading.  How many stepmothers can have that relationship with their stepchildren?  The icing on the cake was when my oldest stepson said, in a card on Mother’s day, that I was the respected matriarch of the family.  This brought tears to my eyes, and I am not telling you this to win Brownie points, or make out that I am some super mum.  To the contrary, I am just an ordinary person who happened to meet four extraordinary children who brought out the best in me. 

 So much water has gone under the bridge since that time of the wedding in England, Friday, 6^th June 2008, and travelling with Han back to Kyoto, the city I so love and the city Han wished to visit since his childhood, was a dream come true for the two of us.  This was the city in which we stopped over on our way to England, and it was a magical four days. Later, sharing in Han’s joy as he retraced his childhood experiences in the village he left in Holland at the age of nine was another memorable experience, and one which I feel honoured to have shared with him.  On meeting Han, I was attracted to his difference, his open nature, and seemingly extreme self-confidence, which I attributed to his having to fend for himself as a young migrant with no English skills. Having had to study so hard to prove he was an equal to his peers, he continues to have a veneer bordering on arrogance to compensate for years of feeling bullied at school.  I was attracted to this good- looking, blond European with flawless English who loved gardens and gardening, played the guitar exquisitely as he sang, and had four beautiful young children.  He scolded me when I talked of the Von Trapp family, as they all sang as he played along with his guitar, but they reminded me of the stars in the Sound of Music.  Unfortunately, I couldn’t sing, but I was keen to adopt the role of Maria, and not the wicked stepmother who almost usurped the mother’s role in the story!  Do you know the story of the Sound of Music?  I have watched it so many times, and although many see it as rather saccharine, I love it!  I wonder why? Please excuse this moment of self -indulgence, and I hope you don’t find me arrogant in what I have shared with you.

1^st June, 2009 

The sun is now shining through the window, and I can feel the warmth on my back.  I was awoken by my daughter, Shahan, in China with a text saying, “Pinch and a punch for the first of the month. No returns. I win again!” It was 4:02 in the morning so she had sent it at two minutes past midnight in China.  This greeting for the first of the month is a ritual in our family, and Shahan is obviously the queen of memory! I usually awake around four in the morning, so it was a wonderful way to be awoken!

On Friday night, I was excited about leaving school and travelling through to Hawea to spend the weekend with Suny, Nathan, and my grandchildren Indi and Seth.  Names are interesting, and Indi now calls herself Indi Cate. I can’t remember if I told you that she renamed herself when she heard her father, Nathan, chastising a negligent driver in the car in front of them who refused to indicate gruffly by saying repeatedly, “indicate!” To which, Indi declared that it was her new name!  It was so cute, and she continues to remind me that her name is Indi Cate!  Suny’s ten month son, Seth, however, is still too young to realise that he has a name that Suny does not like!  She never bonded with the name, but this weekend, she decided to change his name to Moshe, and she will officially change it on his first birthday.  Oishi will still be his nickname till he gets too old for it, or gets embarrassed by it.  I used to call my youngest son Jan Thomas, but he was embarrassed by his double barrelled name, and we dropped the Thomas.  Although he gets called Janis by his siblings, this girl’s name does not phase him now that he is older and more confident.  I think because his siblings have nicknamed Janis, he likes it, but if I had done so, it would have been shameful!

The weather forecast for last Friday night was for treacherous conditions in Central Otago, but by leaving before dark, I avoided the frost and possible ice.  The sky was pitch black, punctuated by stars, as I passed through Cromwell, and the crescent of the moon shone so brightly, lighting my way to Hawea.  It was good to see the lights of the familiar stone house, and be welcomed in to the roaring fire.  Suny was still at work at the local hotel, but Nathan and I sat and shared a glass of wine and caught up on our news.  I am so lucky to truly love the partners of all my children.  Once Suny arrived home, we sat and chatted until after midnight, but I was awoken before dawn by a knock on my bedroom door, and a little face appeared to say, “I love you, Oma Shazza.”  Oma is the Dutch word for grandmother, and Shazza is the nickname given to me by my sons in law.  Indi Cate hopped into bed with me, and I brought out the book I had bought her called “I’ve finished.” It is all about a little bear who learns to go to the toilet and then flush it.  It has wonderful sound effects and Indi loved it.  She gets so excited at her preschool that she often forgets to go to the toilet until it is too late!  I hope that this book will encourage her to go earlier, and have fun flushing the loo!  I adore books, and especially ones which I can read to my grandchildren.  I am constantly buying new books I can share with them.  I leave it to the other grandparents to buy toys and clothes!

When dawn broke, the frost lay heavy on the ground, and a mist hung over the mountains.  However, the arrival of the sun revealed a stunningly beautiful day, and Lake Hawea began to dazzle an emerald blue.  After a leisurely start to the day, we all headed off to Wanaka to do a little shopping at the only supermarket which is able to use its monopoly to extort exorbitant prices out of its helpless customers!  Competition in all things is healthy, and needs to exist to stop such flagrant abuse of corporate greed.  How harsh I am, but I hate seeing young couples having to dig deep into their pockets to pay for the necessities of life.

After buying  one of life’s necessities, that of a Lotto ticket (!), we headed up the Cardrona Valley to the one hundred year old Cardrona Hotel where we had lunch.  We were able to sit outside and have a drink, and I was able to sit out in the crisp, raw air and feel the sun on my skin in the way that I had hoped and expressed in my last letter.  I fell in love with the hotel, with its beautiful stone masonry, and it was interesting talking about the craftsmanship with my son in law, Nathan, who is a gifted stone mason.  I dreamed about creating such an ambience in my next home, and maybe it will happen one day soon.  Creative visualisation is so important in the fulfilment of dreams, and telling others of your dreams is the next step, after the conception of these dreams, in making them come true!

8^th June, 2009

I am now sitting up in bed, with the wind whistling outside, and the roofing on the verandah creaking as the force of the wind threatens to dislodge the corrugated iron and send it flying into the garden!  I feel toasty warm as I sit snuggled up in bed with my computer on my lap and a down duvet covering me.  I love being snug and warm in bed, and never take this seemingly simple luxury for granted.  So many people in the world would give anything for a warm bed and a full stomach.  I thank my lucky stars every day!

This past weekend was again filled with family, although this time with grandchildren in Dunedin.  My second grandson, Arlo, turned six years old on Saturday, and what a stormy day that was!  Sleet and hail pounded the windows, and a dozen children almost lifted the roof off by themselves with their squeals of delight!  They played games like pass the parcel, pin the tail on the donkey, and smashed a pinada till its cache of lollies fell out.  There was the beautifully decorated cake, the cherrios, the fairy bread, and the beautiful dips, and bread for the adults.  I love watching the children at birthday parties, and know how lucky these children are.  My mother would never allow me to have a birthday party, and I always rejoice in the smiles on the faces of these fortunate children, many of whom just take the many birthdays, to which they are invited, for granted.

I am reading, for the second time, Richard Carlson’s book entitled Don’t Sweat the  Small Stuff about Money.  An analogy which particularly appealed to me last night was the one which referred to the wake of a boat, and as I flick through the book to refresh my memory, I can not find the page.  Typical!  He talked about the importance of putting the past behind us, as the wake of the boat is left behind as the boat ploughs through the water.  We can see the wake, but it has no power to propel us further.  In the same way, we can recall the past but it is not able to assist us in our journey into the future.

I hope you are able to travel your own path under your own steam.  I am going to snuggle down under the covers, read a couple of pages and nod off into dreamland. I haven’t had a nightmare in quite some time, although my dreams are decidedly odd!  However, that is nothing new, and I think I will carry strange dreams with me to my grave!  Do you have such odd dreams?  Do you believe they mean anything?  When the children were all living with us, I used to have a recurring nightmare that I had to walk across bare boards to get to some kittens who were dying of starvation because I forgot to feed them. I was always so upset when I woke up, and it was only when I saw a dream analyst that he told me I was not giving myself any time in the day for myself.  When I actually sat down for even a few minutes in a day, the bad dreams stopped.  There is obviously a message in there !  May you take time each day to stop!

Did you stop yesterday and see the glorious full moon shining as you headed to school?  It shone in the southern sky, and I watched in awe as the Man in the Moon smiled at me!

Love

Sharron