volume seventy-eight

i remember

This was written, with thanks, to a prompt from Lindsey Trout Hughes in the Prompt Playground channel with London Writers’ Salon.

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I remember the sour taste in my mouth right as we came around the first sharp bend on the mountain, right before I puked up my car sickness tablets a mere minutes after leaving home.

I remember leaving every year on Boxing Day, headed for a week with my grandparents.

I remember the “new car smell” that was always in their car, no matter how long they had it, and not like any other I have smelt.

I remember the faux fur seat covers that changed from smoke grey to cloud grey when you stroked them with your fingers, leaving evidence of where you had drawn.

I remember using this on the backs of the seats to play noughts and crosses with my sister to pass the time.

I remember stopping halfway at the pub for lunch, even though it was mid-morning.

I remember we always chose to sit in the sun rather than inside.

I remember hot chips burning the roof of my mouth but eating them anyway, making sure I got my fair share between both of my sisters and me.

I remember arriving early in the day, as we always did, as we always left early in the morning.

I remember Poppy looking out his driver's window anxiously as he slowly pulled into the tight garage space, with the tennis ball hung from string from the ceiling to indicate when he had pulled in far enough. The precision.

I remember seeing the golf buggy, his prized possession, to my left and enduring the strong smell of petrol, even with the car windows up.

I remember his tools perfectly placed, hanging from the walls in three even rows.

I remember going through the gate into the backyard and hearing the dog bark, then Nanny and Poppy laughing.

I remember they didn’t have a dog, just an alarm that sounded like one.

I remember the dents in the side of the house and the garage from the golf balls led astray from the course next door.

I remember the way the brown paved path from the garage to the back door felt on my bare feet, smooth and warm from the summer sun. Sometimes too hot and forcing me to run to the door.

I remember the mat at the back door where we all vigorously wiped our feet, laying our shoes out neatly before going inside.

I remember Nanny laying out our things ever so systematically in our bedrooms. Things like our freshly washed and dried and meticulously folded swimsuits ready for the next day and fluffier-than-anyone-has-ever-made-them bath towels ready for bathtime.

I remember her explaining dinner time, bedtime, quiet time and her other “rules” but with love and care that I never felt like I was in trouble, much, as long as I stuck to the way things operated.

I remember her laying out dinner ingredients at 3pm, ready to cook a few hours from then, telling us what would be for dinner that night, and then what would be for dinner for the rest of the week.

they still have that same kettle. stuff used to last much longer, didn’t it? or maybe it helps if you are happy with what you have and never have a reason to replace it unless it breaks.

I remember the mini cereal boxes they would buy just for us, the single-serve multipacks.

I remember hoping I would get the cocoa pops.

I remember the little ‘doors’ of the box opening and using them as Barbie wardrobes or for cots for Barbie and Ken’s kids.

I remember afternoon walks on the golf course after everyone was done playing for the day.

I remember the warm afternoon sun, the cool breeze from the ocean coming over the edge of the drop to it, and the big beautiful houses we would pass, bravely with large windows ready to be smashed by a stray ball.

I remember collecting those stray balls along the grass, neglected, and rehomed in my grandparent’s collection.

I remember when golf was Poppy’s life.

I remember the rides on his beloved golf buggy, ripping through the course after hours. Something so special it was reserved to occur once every visit.

I remember the first time he let me drive.

I remember the crash into the tree, which was caused by him thinking he was pumping the brakes while I drove but he accelerated and got confused.

I remember how awful I felt, ashamed, embarrassed and utterly confused as to why it sped up. How I had blown my chance at being a grown-up.

I remember how he admitted he was in the wrong but never to me.

I remember Poppy’s laugh, the way his shoulders bounced up and down like a jack-in-the-box as his big smile beamed, open-mouthed revealing his big white teeth.

I remember his favourite party trick was to pop his false teeth outwards and make funny faces.

I remember Nanny’s eye rolls and “Shut up, Gordon,” remarks that we all had come to expect and would say on her behalf if she didn’t.

I remember surprise pop-ins from their friends who would say “My, haven’t you grown!”

I remember running for the clothesline when an afternoon storm hit, grabbing all the fresh towels and helping Nan put them in the dryer.

I remember Nan leaving for solo beach walks in the early afternoon, making sure she was back in time to sit quietly alone and watch The Bold and the Beautiful. How that meant we were to stay in our rooms and give her space.

I remember when she watched shows like that, now she just laughs at the thought.

I remember after a week or so, Mum and Dad would arrive and the energy would shift.

I remember missing my parents and being glad to see them, but being sad that this time was over.

I remember being a teenager and visiting alone, then again as an adult, and again and again every chance I got.

I remember knowing I visited them more than anyone else and loving it that way.

I remember thinking that maybe, just maybe, I was the favourite.

I remember when my perspective shifted from wanting to be the favourite and growing to just love the privilege of still having my grandparents in my life.

I remember how proud Nan was the first time she took me to ladies' day at the golf club and showed me off to all her friends while I thrived on charming them.

I remember when we used to leave the house more often. Together.

I remember how good it felt the first time I paid the dinner bill.

I remember Poppy showing us his family photos — each now freshly labelled on the back with names and descriptions like “A good man”, so he could be reminded who they were when his memory no longer could.

Lovely reader, I would love for you to share in the comments a memory of someone dear to you.

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here are three things I struggled with this week:

🤖 Mercury in Retrograde is finally O V E R! Thank goodness. It came for my technology hard.

📓 Studying is very challenging. I am very lucky to be learning but there is so much to learn in so little time. Study tips are welcome!

💭 Trying not to make long-term decisions based on my momentary feelings. Classic.

here are three blessings from this week:

🏖️ Reading at the beach.

💫 My Higher Power’s plan for me and how that felt so aligned with a friend asking me how I am doing in Australia and when I replied with excitement, she added, “It suits you.”

🥔 Nan’s baked potatoes and (secret recipe) peas.

here are three goals for the coming week:

🍁 Pass my citizenship test.

🌊 Visit the ocean each day, which I started doing this week. Not always to swim, but always to say hello.

🖁 Meet with you over at the new substack chat, where we can talk (about very silly things that mean a lot to me) in real-time.

here is something I enjoyed this week: 

Shameless, absolutely ecstatic self-promotion. The new season of my podcast dropped this week! I would love for you to take a listen to episode one, with my Dad. My podcast makes me zero dollars and I pour hours and hours into it, but it fills my cup in so many ways I could never put a price on. Share it with someone you think might need it, too? The best way to support it, is right here:

my dad stole my limelight 🌈

pics or it didn’t happen:

the way that took a lifetime to get to 100% was a mercury in retrograde vibe

I love you. I’m so grateful to those who read my substack 🧡 because I really love writing it to you,

LD

xoxo