Bonzer Words!: The Vase
Colleen McMillan explains why a certain vase could not be given away, even though she didn't like it.
Colleen writes for Bonzer! magazine. Please visit www.bonzer.org.au
'Mum! You're not packing THAT awful old thing!'
Knowing full well to what my daughter referred, I still procrastinated 'Er. what thing Darling?'
'Mum, you know perfectly well I am talking about. That hideous red and gold vase thing. Be honest—you've never liked it.'
'No but . . . ' At that moment the phone rang and my daughter who had been helping me pack boxes for our 'downsizing move', went to answer it.
No, I had never liked that vase, expensive and I am sure carefully chosen, though it was. I remembered hiding my stretched smile behind the shoulders of my father's aunt and uncle, as I hugged them and exclaimed in false delight over my wedding present.
They were old then, a small round couple, ruddy of cheek and sparkling of eye.They had no children of their own and dearly loved their numerous nephews and nieces and even more numerous grandnephews and grandnieces.
Aunt Ethel always had her biscuit tins full of interestin, even exotic, goodies in case any of them called, and call they did. Uncle Chris had been a renowned sportsman in his youth, a top AFL footballer and coach, a Stawell Gift Winner and he didn't mind telling you about it. At the time of my wedding he was a noted racehorse breeder and trainer. He never bet, just as when he had been a publican he never drank.
I thought of the time I'd met him at the Albury races. Always a dapper, bustling man, given to deer-stalker hats, he was busily giving his jockey instructions when he spotted me. Barely pausing as he turned to me, he said, 'If you're looking for Ethel, she didn't come today. The woman is slowing down you know.' At that time he was 87 and Ethel was 86.
Sadly, Ethel did slow down and although I'm sure he missed her sadly he kept bustling and talking until he was 98.
I hastily wrapped the vase along with the newapaper cuttings of Uncle Chris's past glories and the tape he'd made when he was 'still a lad' at 95, telling of our family's history.
My daughter called from the kitchen. 'That was Phillip'. (her husband) 'He is on the way home. I'll go and get some take-away for us all, otherwise we'll never eat tonight.'
