I’ve decided to start with the ‘oldest’ item in my closet. This shirt came to me via my brother and to him via our closest family friends growing up. B was the owner of this t shirt I remember him having a black one as well, I don’t know how or why a 5 year old in the back hills of the Nth Coast of NSW got two fabulous glittery Disco Fever t-shirts but he did and for some unknown reason he gave one of them to my brother. I doubt B still has the black one it’s a shame because he grew up to be one of those gorgeous gay men with a far too beautiful bachelor pad in Potts Point and had it still fit him (which of course it would not as he is now 6ft 5 and buff) he would have worn the shit out of it. I was amazed that my heavy metal loving brother kept this shirt so long, worn by his large teddy bear for nearly 20 years before I finally got my mitts on it. Actually I do know why he kept it that long, as horrid as it sounds he kept it because I wanted it. Siblings eh, what ya gonna do? I have his ex wife to thank she knew I wanted it and finally convinced him to pass it on to me about ten years ago.
It now sits in my drawer no longer worn but certainly not unloved. It is a reminder of the summers we played at B & his sister N’s house, riding polystyrene surf boards down the creek, making honeycomb completely unsupervised on Sunday mornings after a sleep over, the time N rescued me from drowning by pulling me out of danger by my hair! The roasts they would have every Sunday lunch time. Watching Molly die on A Country Practice and N recording it on her cassette player and saying “This is the part when Molly’s going to die” hearing the music go wonky and then Brendan screaming out Molly! They lived out of town and I remember B aged 7ish getting flown out by helicopter during one flood because he had an allergic reaction to a wasp sting, another when Dad went a got them in his truck as the water was too high for theirs to get out, we had a week long slumber party at our house that time. It was N that told me about Santa, this only a year after us all sitting on my bed convinced we could hear bells on Christmas Eve before we went to midnight mass.
Plus they just don’t make stuff like this anymore! I have to keep it!
The Mag’s were the closest thing we had to family when I was growing up. We were both from the same small Victorian town and had moved up the coast, the kids were all the same ages S and my mum got along really well sharing sewing and gardening interests as did my dad & L, both Italian descent men married to very non Italian non catholic women, both in the building trade and both with a love of red wine and Mario Lanza. We have seen each other through divorces and marriages, births and deaths, sickness of each other our kids and our parents through B coming out and my brother struggling with alcohol drugs and the custody battle involving his kids.
We all lead very different lives now my Dad lives somewhere in Nth QLD, Mum and Sdad are parenting tween kids again, S & L are now fully retired potter around their property and sell plants at markets. Us four kids have now taken very different paths too B & I are in Sydney and N & my brother are still in our home town albeit it with very very different lives. And while we don’t often speak I know that if any of them needed me I would stand by their side holding hands for strength in a heartbeat really are like family.
xxpt
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