Testing

26 January 2011

Dear Dad,

It's Wednesday morning, and I'm on the computer loading photo's I took of Rammstein at the Big Day Out onto a fan forum. Yep I'm almost 30 and STILL listening to that 'industrial noise' as you call it. According to you it's 'not music'.  A sudden shriek of joy from Cameron and Cole's wet nose on the ranch slider heralds you and Mum's arrival. You're here and you've bought our dog with you.

I offer you coffee, but you tell me that you're nil by mouth until after the ultrasound. Fair enough. When asked what exactly's wrong you tell me that you've had some acid reflux for a couple of weeks now, and you've found a hard lump under your breastbone. You're not overly concerned, worrying instead that you've had some sort of hernia. You haven't been sick, you look well. You look like you always do. Fit, tanned and relaxed.

We chat about nothing. I tell you and mum about the trip. You tell me a story about my Sister's almost 4 year old instructing his mum on how to move the irrigater. You're proud that a kid so small can remember exactly how to set up complicated irrigation equipment, and you're proud that Jen's even used a bowline knot to tie the irrigater off. I vividly remember you teaching us how to tie a bowline knot as kids. Hell I could probably tie a bowline before I could tie my shoelaces. You taught us well, and you're obviously teaching the grandsons well too. 

I love that you're so proud of your grand kids, and I'm glad to be living close enough for them to see you and Mum regularly.

To be honest at this stage I'm still not overly concerned about the testing. You don't seem sick. I tell you 'good luck!' for the tests and you're off in Mum's Rav4. Everything's fine. Life is good.