Family Snippets - 5. Life In Perspective

There are times when you receive a wake-up call; when life tells you to take another look at what is really important. We’ve just had one of those wake-up calls.

The Saturday morning had started out simply enough. Andrew woke up at 6am. That was unusual, but since he went to bed at 4pm the day before, it wasn’t unexpected. We don’t know what his grandparents do when they look after him and his brother, but whatever it is, they are always exhausted at the end of it.

He joined Janine and I in our bed and stayed, almost quietly, until 7am. Janine and Andrew then got up while I stayed in bed a little longer.

Janine was being graded on her horse, so she would know what level to compete in, which meant I would have to take the boys to their swimming lessons. This is something I quite enjoy. Living in a country where trips to the beach are a traditional part of the culture, learning to swim is the one activity we insist the boys do. We are lucky that both Andrew and Colin love to swim, though sometimes they are not keen on having lessons.

The trip to the swimming pool was quite uneventful – I only ran into two cars on the way there. Colin and Andrew drive pretend cars – that day Colin’s was black and Andrew’s was red – while I drive the real one. Naturally, being typical boys, their cars are faster than mine, which means they always get to the intersections before me. Unfortunately, being pretend cars, I have a tendency to not notice them, and will often run into the back of them while they were stopped, waiting to turn. This was one of my better trips; I’ve had times when I was running into their cars every couple of minutes.

They had a good swimming lesson and were quite excited when we finished.

“Where do you want to go for lunch?” I asked them. There were only two options, but it was part of the normal Saturday morning ritual.

“Old MacDonald’s!” Andrew insisted. Colin quickly agreed.

They never say “MacDonald’s”, it’s always “Old MacDonald’s”. I suppose I have to accept the blame for that. The nursery rhyme, “Old MacDonald had a farm,” was one of my favourites when they were younger, and somehow, with a logic I can admire, if not quite follow, the fast food chain inherited the prefix.

The other option was “Hungry Jack’s”. I’m looking forward to their confusion when I can take them overseas and they discover that elsewhere it’s called “Burger King”. I was once told that that Australian company law originally prohibited two companies having the same name, and when the USA fast food chain expanded to Australia, there was a small store somewhere in the country with the name “Burger King” so the multi-national had no choice but to pick a different name. The laws have since changed, but the Australian version of the company name is still widespread.

I let the boys play in the playground while I ordered two kids meals for lunch. After they’d eaten, we headed home.

It was an uneventful trip. The boys were too tired to drive their own cars, so I didn’t crash into anything at all!

Walking in the door, Janine was waiting for me.

“I’ve got some shocking news,” she announced as soon as she saw me. She was visibly shaken.

I looked at her, wondering what had gone wrong.

“Jason was cutting down a tree, when it fell on him and severed his hand. They’re flying him to The Alfred.”

I stepped forward and pulled her into a hug. Jason was her sister’s husband. A dedicated farmer, he has a property in country Victoria where they keep cattle. As I held her, I heard what little she knew. Her mum had rung only moments before I’d arrived home.

Jason’s right hand had been severed, or partially severed – she wasn’t sure – and the air ambulance was taking him to the trauma centre at The Alfred Hospital in Melbourne. His eldest son, Peter, a bright thirteen-year-old, had driven him back to the house, where Janine’s sister had rung for help.

“You just never imagine it could happen to someone you know,” Janine whispered, as her head lay nestled on my shoulder.

I agreed with her. While farm accidents were not uncommon, you never assumed it could happen to someone you knew.

We were both in a state of mild shock for the rest of the afternoon. I rang Janine’s brother to let him know what was going on. We then waited. Janine had to do something, so I told her to go out and play with her horse – something I knew would calm her down. When I spoke to Janine’s mum, she was rambling on about a missing video. I knew she was just trying to find something mundane to take her mind off the tragedy.

Before the end of the day we learnt that Jason was being operated on, and his wife and two boys were on their way to Melbourne.

It was now time to wait and see. The news was that the hand was still alive, so there was hope to re-attach it. It was too early to say whether or not the attempt would be successful.

We had no more news until the next morning. Janine rang her mum and spoke to her sister. Jason was in surgery for seven hours, and has another operation scheduled in a day’s time. While it is going to cause them endless complications – both financially as they struggle on just her income, and organisationally as they try to work out how Jason can continue rehabilitation while they live in rural Victoria – there is good news. Jason is able to move his fingers. The initial signs are good that he’ll regain at least partial use of the hand.

We worry about so many little things in our lives: how we could afford that special gift; what to do for our holidays; are our boys getting the education they need; how to stop the horses escaping from their paddocks.

What happened to Jason makes us rethink what’s really important. He’s alive. He’ll hopefully have the use of his hand. Everything else is minor in comparison.