ignorance is no excuse
I was in Wellington. Again. Very briefly. To do my mother’s washing.
It’s a long story but I’ll cut it short. Alzheimer’s is not pretty. In a mere eight weeks my mother has got significantly worse. My father, stoic as ever, continues to say, “It could be worse” whenever I ask him how he is coping. But there’s a micro pause, a hesitation that wasn’t there before when he answers.
She had a melt down before I left. It was a very short visit. She’d only just got used to me being there. I was off again. I felt bad.
I had two hours off last weekend. I had wheels. I just wanted time in my head. Be a tourist in my hometown. But most of all I needed to walk. I stayed in constant motion for those 120 minutes, stopping only briefly to browse. I grabbed a few consumables from the Hill Street market. I ducked my head into Parson’s Books and Music and allowed myself to be bathed in soothing classical ambience. It’s barely changed in fifty years. Comforting.
Disquieting. Even new buildings have old memories. The first thing I learnt when I (briefly) studies criminology - ignorance of the law is no excuse. Got caught by a boy in blue doing a paste up one night. "I didn't know it is illegal officer". Next day, looking across the aisle in the lecture theatre, same bloke in civies smiling at me.
I am back in Melbourne and all I want to do is the opposite. Sit. Laze. Recline. Be nowhere but here.
It's been a long week.