Eulogy for my Dad

I hadn't realised how long ago my last post was. How things have changed.
Dad's legs healed beautifully in the end, but his prostate disease progressed and affected his stomach.   He was quite miserable with stomach pains. He stopped eating about a month ago and his rate of decline accelerated.  I saw him in early June and planned to visit again this weekend, but he died on the 29th June.  We held the funeral on 5th July and it was a lovely send off.
We held a private cremation in the morning, which was very quiet and dignified. Then in the afternoon we held the memorial service.  Instead of the coffin we were able to put up two tables to display some special objects of significance in his life.  There was also a beautiful slide show tribute arranged by the funeral directors, which my mother now has on a disc and I'm sure she will treasure.



My sister and I delivered this eulogy at the service:

 Ross Scott

Ross was born on 3 December 1920 to Archie and Jessie Scott in Gidginbung near Temora NSW, where his father and uncle were sharecroppers from St Albans, Geelong. His brother Lindsay was nine years older.

His mother wanted to call him Ross – which was her family name - but his father wanted him named Leslie Archibald after himself and a deceased uncle. After some discussion, his father’s wishes prevailed. But although his father won that battle, his mother won the war. He was always known as Ross.

The family returned to Victoria when Dad was two years old and bought a farm at Leopold where they raised cows and cereal crops until 1935 when the bank foreclosed on all but 9 acres. The family ultimately moved into a house in Darling St, East Geelong and his father and brother did all kinds of work to keep the family afloat.

As a child of the Depression dad was adept at making do. Twenty years ago he had a pair of slippers he was particularly fond of, so when they wore out, he thought nothing of resoling them himself. Unfortunately the sole material he chose was slippery and when he went outside to the garage he slipped and fell flat flat on his face, breaking his front teeth. Luckily they were repaired (at considerably greater cost than a new pair of slippers) Thankfully not all of of his repairs were a disaster. He quite successfully repaired an unrepairable microwaves (with a rubber band).

When Ross left school at fourteen, he almost became a tailor. He was first employed by Geelong tailors, Mr Myerson and then Mr Trapnell. but both of these businesses closed down and he finally found work with Maurie Jacobs in July 1936. There he sold manchester, travel rugs, suitcases and denims. He even sold lawn mowers. He worked there until he joined the RAAF

It was at Jacobs that he made a lifelong friend in Mick O’Connor, and it was through Mick’s father that Dad was introduced to classical music. These two young men also shared a love of dancing, motor cycles and photography. Dad used to love going dancing on a Saturday night at the Palais and had his favourite partners for different dances. He said things would have to be pretty crook for him to miss a Saturday night at the Palais.

While working for Maurie Jacobs, Ross started taking watchmaking lessons twice a week from Mr Brian Seymour who had a backyard workshop. Each lesson cost 2/6. At the time Ross’ weekly wage was 15/- and out of that he paid his parents 5/- for board. He became qualified after four years of lessons,

When war broke out Ross applied to join the RAAF and was accepted in September 1940. He started as an instrument repairer but was eventually able to have his watchmaking qualifications recognised and his mustering was upgraded to that of Instrument maker.

He achieved the rank of corporal and served in two squadrons: 13 and 21. He had overseas service with both. His time with number 13 squadron coincided with the battle of Ambon where he was extremely lucky to be evacuated before the island was overrun by the Japanese. He was also in Darwin during the Japanese air raids in Feb 1942. During one of those raids a bomb exploded only a few metres from him – and his hearing was affected forever after.

Sadly his father became gravely ill shortly after the Darwin bombing and Dad was granted compassionate leave to travel south - but not the means to do so. As he was still recovering from malaria at the time, it was no small feat for him to make his way from Darwin to Melbourne without official assistance. Thankfully he arrived in time to farewell his father and comfort his mother and he was subsequently redeployed to number 21 squadron at Laverton.

He was demobbed at the end of 1945. he was able to set up in business as a watchmaker in Geelong a week later – on his 25^th birthday.

The business initially thrived because he was one of the few who could make his own balance staffs for watch repairs, but the business soon grew to include selling watches and jewellery. Dad went on to study gemmology in 1956 and diamond technology in 1960. In 1967 he was also instrumental in forming the Geelong Gem and Mineral Club and was its founding president.

Over four decades ‘Ross Scott, Watchmaker and Jeweller’ became a highly regarded business, operating across three shopfronts in Jacobs St. It reached its peak in the early seventies with the opening of the Ring Boutique at number 7 Jacobs street, which is still remembered for its unique interactive conveyer belt display of rings (invented by dad.) He also foreshadowed power point presentations with his automatic slide shows of rings, which played each night in the window. He personally took every photo in a jury rigged close- up box with his first SLR cameral – which his grandson now owns and uses

In 1987 Mum and Dad finally retired (dad aged 67 & mum 61). The store’s final location was on the corner of Moorabool and Ryrie St. Once they retired they wondered how they had ever had time for work- what with their busy schedule of: organ society, painting classes, portrait group, new vogue dancing and overseas travel.

It was great to see them have time for themselves at last.

Ross & Lorraine married in April 1949 and they built their first home in Roslyn Road, Belmont in 1951. Cheryl and Lynda were both born there and in 1963 the expanding family moved to Alkoomi Ave, Hamlyn Hts, where Tracy was born in 1965. Mum and Dad remained there until last year when they moved into the BUPA nursing home at Newcomb, a move precipitated by Mum falling and breaking a hip nearly a year ago.

When September holidays were being planned he would bring us the map and say “where will we go this time?” hoping that we would way “Flinders Ranges”or Coober Pedy- but every time the answer was the same. QUEENSLAND!! So we would hook up the caravan and head up the Hume Highway. As the afternoon closed in we would pick up the RACV camping and caravan guide to pick out our accommodation for the night. It would only be selected if it had a swimming pool/trampoline/playground. He did all the driving on those holidays and we would doze, sing jingles and generally bicker in the back seats. One memorable trip had him drive from Coolangatta to Geelong in one day – and a large chunk of the night.

Dad eventually taught us all to drive – He’d even taught Mum before they were married. We found him to be a very patient teacher although he did develop a nervous cough while Cheryl was behind the wheel. Mum told us that her driving lessons did put a great strain on their early relationship. He’d once told her after a particularly noisy gear change that it was “lucky the gears are in a box”

Dad loved his cars. He changed them every two years until the '70s. He took great care of his cars – lovingly washing them every weekend and polishing them every other weekend.

We girls were lucky enough to get an education that that allowed us to aspire to university. Something which Dad never had.

After graduating, Cheryl moved to Tasmania and Tracy lived and worked in Melbourne. Lynda stayed in Geelong and joined the family business.

Cheryl and Lynda both married and had five children between them. Sadly, we lost Tracy to cancer in 2002 – and this was a great blow to us all, but one of enduring sadness for Mum and Dad.

One of Dad’s career highlights was the chance to lead a jeweller’s world study tour in 1970. Along with the usual sights of Europe and UK, he had the opportunity to see the de Beers diamond mines of South Africa, the Rolex watch factory in Switzerland, the Crown jewels of Britain and pearls from Mikimoto island in Japan. This has inspired Cheryl to travel and she is disappointed that she won’t be able to share her upcoming trip to Europe with him. I know he would have loved to hear more about his favourite country, Switzerland

Mum and Dad enjoyed travel overseas together too, visiting the US several times, the Philippines, Japan, the Caribbean and the UK.

They also enjoyed activities closer to home. They were founding members of the local organ society. Dad had taught himself to play through sheer dogged perseverance so that he and mum could make music together. They rediscovered their love of ballroom dancing and latterly, took up oil and then portrait painting in pastels. Dad gained a lot of pleasure from this and they set up their own studio in the old carport.

He was also a dab hand at the Geelong Advertiser crossword-not just satisfied with completing it but noting the start and finish time. His goal was to do it under three minutes.

To have lived to 92 and to have had good health for most of that time was no small achievement. We sometimes think he believed he would live forever, as he overcame every physical obstacle put in front of him - except the last. He was dogged in his wish to get better and was unwilling to accept that he may not recover this time. In the last few weeks his failing health upset him dreadfully, but he was comforted knowing that Lorraine was nearby. He was a man who had always been in control of his life and it was hard for him to accept help, but Lynda willingly stepped up to help him with his affairs.

We still marvel at what Dad achieved in his life time – and what he witnessed. He lived for over nine decades in an era that ranged from Burt Hinkler flying over Leopold school in a biplane and living through the great depression - to space travel and personal computers.

He had an appreciation of technology: embracing computers well before they became popular with the rest of the world. In fact he insisted on having the internet connected at the nursing home before he would agree to go. He still had too much work to do, you see…

He achieved much in his time. He came from hard working Scottish and English farming stock, his education finished when his family lost their farm but he found work and created a business that earned a reputation for integrity and fair dealing. He gave back to the community through Rotary International, was president of the Retail Traders Association of Geelong and founding president of the Gem and Mineral Club.

He served his country bravely during wartime and twice narrowly escaped death. Dad survived to marry and have a family. He gave us what he valued most: opportunities for a quality education, a strong moral compass and a secure home.

Other than Lorraine and his girls, his great love was music and the arts. Orchestral music, opera and ballet all brought him great joy. It was hardly surprising he married the girl from the music store. It must have been one of his greatest disappointments that his worsening hearing robbed him of enjoying live musical performances in his latter years.

Finally we think he would like to be remembered as a fair man, one who fought hard to stay with his wife of 64 years. Lorraine was with him right to the end. He was a proud father of his three daughters and all their accomplishments and an even prouder grandfather of his five adult grandchildren.

We will all miss him: his tried and true jokes and his depression-era sensibilities about "waste not want not.’’ But we are glad that he is no longer in pain and I believe that he is now with our sister Tracy and we would like to think that he can hear us just fine now…

Clearing out the house

So we have Mum steadily improving at the Nursing Home and Dad is in a rapid decline.

Mum has resumed playing the piano and doing portraits in pastels.  She is moving around with a pick up frame and moves at a fair clip now.  Dad on other hand, has developed ulcers on his leg which are not healing.  He's had angioplasty with stents on both legs recently, but there hasn't been much improvement.  He's in a lot of pain and is pretty unhappy.

Lynda is frustrated that he isn't keeping his legs elevated.  He says he has too much to do, but as soon as he sits down at the computer to do whatever it is, he falls asleep in his chair.

I've been over to Geelong several times to help out Lynda since my last post.  Things would have fallen in a heap long ago if she wasn't on the scene. She's been the one dealing with doctors and lawyers over the last few months.  Her husband had a health scare in January with his GP excising an early stage melanoma from  his back.    He had surgery a month later and thankfully his doctor is confident that the margins are clear.

On my last trip over, we continued clearing out the house with help from her husband and my daughter, who came down specially from Queensland.  There was so much stuff to get through.  We gave some of it to the local op shop, threw out a couple of trailer loads and we'll take some of it to a weekend market and sell other bits on eBay.  We sold quite a lot to various dealers and were often surprised at what they were interested in - and conversely what they were not.   We held a garage sale on the second last day.  That was quite an experience.  The die- hards swooped like a horde of locusts and we scarcely drew breath for the next two hours.  There is still quite a bit of stuff left, even after I took a number of  items in one of the cars.  I drove it back on the Spirit of Tasmania, the car was packed to the gunwhales.

Unfortunately, due to me misreading the fine print on the ticket and managing to get lost in South Melbourne, I arrived at the dock just in time to see it leaving the jetty.  It meant that I had to re-book for the following day and return to Geelong for another night.  It also meant that I was late to work the next day.

Now back home, I have to decide what to do with the car.  It's a nice little 1991 Nissan coupe but it's surplus to requirements here.  Andrea (in Queensland) managed to write off her car shortly after moving up there and she needs a new one.  This didn't happen until after I booked the ferry trip to bring the car home, but if we can find the time to drive the Nissan up to her, it may be the best option all around.  I figure if I sold the car here and gave her the proceeds towards a new car, she still wouldn't get one as nice as this one.

Maybe I'll combine my next trip over with another ferry trip and a weekend drive to Queensland.

We begin the next phase...

This week my father joins my mother at her nursing home in Geelong.  He agreed to the move two weeks ago.  This is a BIG thing in our lives.  The ties that bind us are surely unraveling now.

Mum is over the moon about the move.  Not only will Dad be there with her every day now, she has moved to a different part of the nursing home and has a private room and bathroom.  ( That was the clincher we think)   Dad will literally be just around the corner in a bigger room (with a shared bathroom though) in low level care.

Mum has been doing well.  She seems far less confused. In fact she was helping her old roommate play cards in the Day Room a day or so before Christmas.  She is also mobilising much better.  When my uncle died almost two months ago, she had to go to the funeral in a maxi taxi.  Now she can transfer in and out of a regular car using her walking frame.  This meant that Lynda was able to have them over for Christmas Dinner without the song and dance involved in hiring a special vehicle.  It took a lot of the pressure off, as you can imagine.

I've been over to Geelong twice in the last month or so. The first time was for my uncle's funeral and the second was to help out Dad in the house and to give Lynda a break.  She's had four months of hell trying to keep the three of them (Mum, Dad and Uncle) basically functioning.  I likened it to herding cats. eg  Dad renewed his insurance on the car he can no longer drive.  No one told him not to!  Then, no sooner had Lynda taken Dad out for some respite care, than our uncle was admitted to hospital ( literally - she was in the care coming home from the nursing home when she took the call)  Our uncle was gravely ill, when Dad called her asking to be taken to the doctor. He ended up being admitting to (a different) hospital because he'd buggered up his aperients. ( for constipation)

Anyway, she REALLY needed a decent break. When I came over I was able to do a bit for Dad, thereby relieving Lynda while I was there, but there is still a great deal more to do.   I kept busy doing some cooking for him and taking him to his various appointments around town.   I also cleaned out a porta loo which had been very full for a very long time.  Yes it was as revolting as it sounds.  I flipped his mattress, evicted the dust bunnies beneath his bed, tried to do two loads of washing but discovered that the machine leaks- so ended up mopping up the laundry floor ( twice)

I would have liked to do more but Dad was determined to deal with things on his own terms and in his own time.  One project I helped him with was cataloguing my uncle's camera collection with a view to selling it.  I even managed to find two potential buyers for one particularly nice camera, but Dad thinks it's worth more than they offered and plans to ask around some more.  Since he can't use the phone any more because his hearing is so poor, I seriously doubt that will happen.

Frankly, He's raised pfaffing about to a fine art - and that's really frustrating because he was once a very decisive and clear thinking man.  With two weeks notice, he'd scarcely packed for his move until Lynda forced the pace.

Still, now, with him in the nursing home, we will have a bit more flexibility in what we do about  the house and its contents.

As luck would have it, I had already booked myself another flight over before he made the decision to go into care.  That means that the next trip in a few weeks will be less about running around after him and more  about finding homes for 50 years worth of 'stuff.'

Why does my stomach sink every time I think about it?

Why did I wake up this morning wondering what to do with 24 volumes of Encyclopaedia Britannica that are too old to be useful and too young to be of any value, but are in immaculate condition? Why do I grow pale at the thought of bringing a 100 year old piano down from upstairs, when I vividly remember it got up there with the help of a crane.
And what on earth are we going to do with two ( yes two) electric organs and boxes and boxes of organ music? (Organs were all the rage in the 70s, don't you know. Not so much now.)

I think I need a cup of tea and a lie down...

Family in flux.

Three weeks ago Mum fell over in the bathroom.  Dad couldn't lift her because he had severe back pain.  Anyway, they called an ambulance and a few hours later, we learned she had broken her hip.   She had surgery that night, but ten days later she was still confused and disoriented  and was deemed unrehab-able. Two weeks later she was placed in a Nursing home right across town.

I should say from the outset that it sounds like it's a lovely place and has lots of excellent activities for the residents.  They have a  room which is filled with memorabilia from the 40s and 50s that the residents can visit and even rearrange to their heart's content.

But at precisely the same time that all of this was happening, we had confirmation that Dad's back pain and prostate trouble were indeed linked.  It has spread to his bones - hence the pain of the last few months.  It has played havoc with his appetite and his sleep too.  He hasn't been traveling at all well.

Right now, he's battling on at home on his own and his doctors are trying to find him a pain regimen that works.   His urologist actually made a house call last week!  Now that's not something that happens every day.

I'm lucky that Lynda has things well in hand. She's arranged the ACAT ( Aged Care Assessment Team) assessment for him, but he only comes up as requiring Low level care at this stage.  (Mum is in a High Care facility).  And she's been taking him to his doctor's appointments and acting as interpreter because his hearing is so poor.

She keeps my updated - and at this stage, no news is good news.  I've told her I'll come over if she needs me to.  But for now I'm sitting tight - and hoping for the best.

In other developments, Andrea has moved back home temporarily.  The contents of their flat are currently in my garage. She has relinquished her flat and plans to join her boyfriend, Rob in Queensland in a month's time.  He's gone north looking for trade work and she is finishing off her Cert III in Hospitality down here.

He's already found something and it has good prospects.  It looks as though they might end up on the Gold Coast, so she will have no difficulties getting work in the food industry - It is Oz' holiday mecca after all.

It's been lovely having her here at home and I will miss her greatly when she goes.  But this is a wonderful adventure for the two of them - and I wouldn't dream of trying to stop her.

At least my boys are still around...

But I sure wish that Nick would get a job.

Post Olympic blues, and old time baby blues

I'm watching the end of the Men's Marathon right now and very soon the Olympics will be over for another four years.  The Ugandan won.  I've loved the events that have been conducted in the streets of London.  The old girl has scrubbed up very nicely.  The Brits did a fine job .... and their athletes have been unbeatable - for the first time ever.

Like many Australians, I've been a little disappointed in our team's performance this time round.  Some of the athletes have been utterly devastated by their perceived failure in bringing home a gold medal.  I felt like weeping with him when the defending Olympic 10 metre diving champion missed his last dive in the semis and dropped right out of contention.  One mistake and it was all over for him.
 
Unfortunately, there will be some people will be all too eager to criticise the gold medal shortfall when they come home.

I think that with only a population of 20 million, Oz has been punching above her weight for years.  It was only a matter of time before the rest of the world was going to catch up.   A top 10 finish is still doing very well, all things considered. ( Hungary came 9th!)  

What has been great about this Olympics has been how no one country has totally dominated.   Of course the US and Russia have done well, but it was thrilling to watch Cyprus' first ever medal winner cross the line - almost as good as witnessing the Jamaican sprinters burn up the athletics track or the the Kahazakstani cyclists winning six gold medals.

Of course, the ParaOlympics will be starting next week - and that is inspiring for a whole bunch of other reasons.  

Earlier today it occurred to me how a couple of Olympics have marked several milestones in my life.  I remember missing the Opening Ceremony of the Seoul Olympics -1988 - twice.  I missed it the first time because it was only a few days after my boys were born 8 weeks early and I was spending all of my time in the special care nursery - and I  missed the replay too - even though I did plan to watch it.

 I won't ever forget that day.  The paediatrician came into my hospital room, turned off the TV, sat on the end of my bed (this is NEVER a good sign - let me tell you)  and told me that Chris (or Twin 1 as he referred to him)  had something wrong with his heart.  Pretty much the only Olympic event I recall seeing after that was the Mens' 100 metre final a week or so later ( Remember? Ben Johnson won, then was disqualified  It was still a brilliant race.)  Everything else was a blur.

The second event was more recent.  Fast forward to the Beijing Olympics - 2008.  The day of that particular Opening Ceremony  was also the day I started Radiotherapy for my bout with DCIS.  Of course that means that this time next year I will be 5 years clear- and I don't care if that one is not marked by an Olympics either.

Having elderly parents (and why it feels like a House of Cards)

It's been a while since I last blogged - and I make no apology for this. Real life has gotten in the way. These days I'm feeling quite meh. I'm alternating between going to work each day, hibernating inside the house because it's too revolting to do anything outside, wasting time on Facebook (far too easy to do really),reading books on my Kindle, which I love to pieces - and feeling terribly guilty because I keep putting off writing my current story due to lack of inspiration.

But all of these things are unimportant today because my 91 year old father, who is my 86 year old mother's carer, was admitted to hospital on the mainland last week with terrible abdominal pains. Suddenly, everything about their lives is falling down like a house of cards.

 Lynda, my sister, has been staying with Mum this past week because she is such a high falls risk while Dad has been having multiple scans and a biopsy in search of a diagnosis. He's been dehydrated, constipated and generally pretty miserable throughout and we still don't have a firm diagnosis (although we have a pretty good idea what it is - and it aint good.)

 Of course his specialist wanted to discharge him today (Sunday) but my sister has managed to put that off until at least tomorrow. We share grave doubts that he will be able to manage an upstairs bedroom and a downstairs toilet - if you get my drift. He reckons he can sleep in his recliner in the downstairs living room - which is closer to the bathroom.

 Hah!... is what I say to that.

Since he is 'Gold Card positive' - an affectionate term which means that he has generous entitlements from the Department of Veterans Affairs - he may be able to have a week of convalescence at a Nursing Home before coming home. But we still need to arrange emergency Respite Care for Mum while he's away. She actually has some regular respite coming up in mid July - but that's still two weeks in the future.   A lot could happen in the meantime.

Somehow, I see a trip to the mainland in my immediate future.

 I also see the possibility of having to help place both parents in a nursing home and disposing of the house they have lived in since 1963 with its accumulation of nearly 50 years worth of chattels. They still own a beautiful oaken radiogram from the 50s and several 100 78rpm records in pristine condition. They also have EVERY issue of Choice magazine since God knows when. What the hell are we supposed to do with them?

My head hurts when I try to think about it.(OK we chuck the mags - but surely the others are museum pieces?)

My sister is tired. She's been sleeping on a mattress on the Living room floor because it's next to Mum's room. But she needs to get back to her own family. We agree that we mustn't waste our respective leave allocations because this business could go on for some time. I may have more leave up my sleeve but I'm also on the other side of Bass Strait. I can't simply hop in a car and drive there at the drop of a hat. This is very frustrating, especially as we still don't know what's coming next.

Aaaaghhh.

 I guess it's a case of watch this space.