Lost confidence

Nauru, the island where children have given up on life. Where children as young as 10 are self-harming and committing suicide. These people have lost their confidence - how can this be allowed to continue in our world today?

Whilst we were away visiting folk in the UK a visiting preacher here talked about confidence.

Confidence... The good book says "Therefore do not throw away your confidence, which has a great reward. For you have need of endurance, so that when you have done the will of God you may receive what is promised." I picture a young person full of ambition working their way to the top of their profession. But it also says that we should "put no confidence in the flesh" so maybe my picture is all wrong!

Growing older... in one sense I am still me, I don't feel any different. But my senses and memory are not so astute and I get tired more easily. And above all I am in jeopardy of loosing my confidence. Confidence in being a good husband, a good father (though mercifully my children can now look after themselves, maybe soon they'll be looking after me, God bless them), confidence in being a supposed Christian leader, a teacher, even in being an electronics design engineer and programmer. And sometimes I just feel like giving up. But I know I mustn't. And compared with these children on Nauru, or the Kenyan kids my daughter is teaching, or indeed 90% of the world's population, I have it made living here. How dare I have such negative thoughts? And yet I do: because there is some truth in the lack of my abilities which, I suppose, I must come to terms with.

I now (sometimes) use a hearing aid, I wear glasses for reading and, more recently, for driving, I manage short term memory loss by having only certain places where I leave important things: when I can't  remember where I last put my wallet I only have to look in those certain places. All very well until my routine is disturbed and I leave it some other place!

I have already decided to gradually retire my electronics design business - there is plenty of more mundane and less stressful work to fill my time here. But some of the other areas are not so easy to deal with!

Inconsolable grief

Non-family readers of this blog may not realise that a great family reunion is taking place. C&L with three of our grandchildren and J&S both live here already. J&R with four more of our grandchildren are visiting from Alaska, and K is visiting from Oz. Not only that but we also have an (unrelated) family with four children visiting, and a single woman visiting. So we are full to the gills. And things get noisy too.

So strange to think that my wife, four children, and seven grandchildren would not be if I had not (as a butterfly) flapped my wings those 40 years ago or so. Of course, in this story of life we are never told what would have happened.

The other night I dreamed that J and his family were leaving, I know not where too but I knew I would not see them again, or at least not for a very long time. And I was overcome (in my dream) with inconsolable grief. I felt like I would go on crying for ever, or at least for a very long time. And yet, curiously, another part of me knew that I could to some extent control this grief, that I was choosing to wallow in it and, given time, I would get over it and life would proceed as normally as it ever does. And it made me wonder what grief was made of.

Vast numbers of pictures are emanating from this reunion some of which and will, I suppose, appear either in this blog or on social media at some stage but frankly it is rather busy here at the moment and I don't know how I am even finding time to write this.

Oz report 2

A trip to Eumundi Markets, a widely acclaimed and up-market-market but, not surprisingly, the sort that tries to empty one's pockets. I noted several of the male species obediently tagging their wives or resting on benches conveniently placed for the purpose.

Apparently the method is to "do" the whole market whilst noting potential items to buy, and then to return to actually make the purchases if nothing better (cheaper) is found. The sales persons were generally good at their job - but this guy failed even though we returned to his stall. Apparently the desirable, water resistant, large purse with many pockets was not needed after all.

The colonisers of Australia have apparently adopted the didgeridoo - two rather loud bands here were employing them. Probably the true native would be appalled at their manner of use. 

This enterprising young guy struck up on Ode of Joy just as we passed and I could not resist donating a dollar (my daughter's) to his cause, for which he thanked me politely.  That well spent dollar was the sum total of my own purchases.

After exhausting the market (or ourselves) we moved onto Noosa main beach and fought the breakers for a while - even in Oz autumn the water was gloriously warm when compared with Ireland.

We're off to see the Wizard

Did I say that we're off to the wonderful land of Oz on Sunday (or Monday (or Tuesday))... (we travel standby). The occasion? My last progeny's wedding.  Dublin - Abu Dhabi - Sydney - Brisbane.

We're off to see the Wizard

The Wonderful Wizard of Oz

We hear he is a Whiz of a Wiz

If ever a Wiz there was

If ever, oh ever, a Wiz there was

The Wizard of Oz is one because

Because, because, because, because, because

Because of the wonderful things he does

We're off to see the wizard

The Wonderful Wizard of Oz!

I can hardly believe it 2

I can hardly believe it - my baby daughter is engaged!

I can hardly believe it

I can hardly believe it - my baby daughter is coming home - all the way from the land of Oz!

Goodbye Kate

Goodbye Kate, July 2012

Six months or so ago Kate emigrated to the land of Oz.

A few Sundays ago Ali and I were invited to the bungalow for afternoon tea - strange I thought, we don't usually bother with afternoon tea! We duly sat down and ate cakes and suchlike and then - in walks Kate. All the way from the land of Oz!

Etihad flight takes off from Dublin airport, December 2012

Strange to think that Kate is there somewhere between those lights in the sky. Goodbye Kate, thank you so much for coming to see me, for loving me that much. I will never forget.