1. The Authors' words.

2. Forgive me and thank you.

3. The face of calamity.

4. Lilybeth.

5. Rich man poor man.

6. The face of salvation.

7. Baby Roli.

8. Christmas 1945.

9. The dancer.

10. The Authors' favourites.

11. Glossary of Terms

ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

 I extend my profound thanks for the many experiences and challenges that life has presented to me, but, without my partner and our child, this collection of stories would never have come to fruition. It is indeed an honour to have had my life touched and moulded by the following, Melissa and Rosie, Gerwyn and Roween Dave and of course my parents who unofficially orchestrated the entire project.

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                                                                        Author's Words

 We are all brothers and sisters belonging to this beautiful planet we call Earth, and thanks to that magical thing called DNA inherited from our parents, we are all unique. Science tells us that overall 99.8% of our entire DNA is shared with each. It's only that 0.2% that makes each person different. However the combination of life's experiences, choices we make and our undefined spirit, certainly make us who we truly are. Our DNA can only provide a certain amount of extremely important tools for us, however it's the manner in which we use these tools that molds us. The signature song from the musical "Seesaw" written by Dorothy Fields and Cy Coleman in 1973,certainly speaks in an inspirational manner to all "It's not where you start its where you finish". "It's not how you go it's how you land". How true these philosophical words are, but alas, life's journey confronts us with many experiences, both positive and negative, each impacting differently upon every individual. Despite our uniqueness, we are a race of beings that depend upon a collective lifestyle, where we are constantly faced with choices of all manner and type, however, those choices regarding the welfare of our fellow-man are often cowardly neglected, our eyes and ears skimming the surface, only hearing and seeing what we want to hear and see. Too often the real problems of our brothers and sisters are placed in the "It's not my problem basket".

Society constantly reminds us, that we must take responsibility for our lives and create the necessary changes to rise above our problems. Such statements have great worth for each and every individual to reflect upon, hence initiating plans for change, but without heartfelt assistance from those that recognise our cries for help, then all efforts to change appear as just another futile task. Being part of someone else's life is a huge responsibility and not to be taken lightly, everything we do has an interacting impact on others somehow. Some of us refer to good luck and bad luck as the governing power in our lives, but that thing called "luck" fits better into the world of gambling where everything is based on chance and not control.

As an infant we have little control over our lives, but by the time we have reached the crossroads between young adults and adulthood, our power to choose right from wrong should have become deeply instilled within us and it is this power of choice, that becomes our greatest tool, as we travel along life's pathway. This pathway is never ending, constantly changing direction, as it moves maize-like but with the power to turn into a sixteen lane highway at any moment. Paying attention to detail is most important for the traveller, but when lost, it is wise to ask for directions, after all, the highway belongs to everyone that is travelling. The only license required to travel this highway of destiny is issued instantly at birth.

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                                                      Forgive me and thank you for everything.

It was Friday the 8th January 2010, that my entire life changed forever. The morning had started with the usual routine, "Good morning Pop, how are you today?" I would call from my bedroom the moment I awoke, which was always at 5.45am every day regardless of weekends or week days. This was instantly answered with the following words, "Morning Chick, what's the weather going to be today?" Both my father and I had a mutual respect for early mornings, no matter what season of the year and this morning showed no reason to be any different. My father was eighty six years old and despite the diagnosis that revealed a heart condition some years earlier, had been blessed with a life free from any health problems, I firmly believe his zest for life itself had been his greatest medication, simply put; he just loved life.

Robert Henry Melville-Jones had been born on the 23rd October 1923 and was the middle child of the three siblings that were born to Robert and Marge Melville-Jones. As a child I was constantly reminded of the difficult hardships, he and the rest of the world had encountered during the years of the Great Depression, maybe it was those harsh experiences that had enhanced his natural ability to appreciate the joys that are found in life.

"Are you ready to shower me?" he would say as he shuffled to the bathroom. "Okay let's go." I would reply, and together with minimal fuss, I would assist him while he performed his ablutions. Maintaining his breath in a steamy bathroom had become a major feat and patiently he would sit on a plastic chair in the middle of the bathroom, while I showered him. His following words of thanks were often mingled with some tears that revealed the inevitable truth, that he was now on his downhill run, a phrase he used more frequently each day. January is the middle of summer in Australia and true to form, the temperature slowly climbed to a muggy 35C, however it was my father's unusual quietness that gave me concern to worry, "You're not very talkative today Pop, is the heat troubling you?" I asked hiding my suspicions that something was wrong. "I think I might just have a small rest, call me when lunch is ready." He replied. I am a firm believer that things happen for a reason, within less than an hour, a knock sounded on the front door, it was a highly regarded friend of my fathers' that had come to visit him. "Judy from the beach is here to say hello." I called to him, as I cryptically relayed the scenario that something was wrong and maybe she could find out more information. "Would you like a cold drink or a coffee?" I asked as they sat at the dining table chatting to each other, "No thanks, I was on my way home from the beach and I thought I would make a quick detour here, to say hello to Bob." Judy replied. "Catching up on the gossip from the beach will cheer him up." I joked. Approximately one hour later Judy bade her farewells and while the two of us walked to her car, she informed me that my father was feeling a few pains in his stomach area. "Thanks Judy for visiting, he misses his time spent at the beach, I will call you tomorrow and let you know how he is." I said with a heavy heart.

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 "How are you feeling, are you ready to have your lunch?" I anxiously asked my father, "Maybe just a cup of coffee, I feel crook in the guts." Was his reply, "Okay, I will fix you a drink, and if you don't feel any better by this afternoon I will call the doctor, whether you like it or not." I kindly replied. By 4.30pm my father finally consented and with concerned fears for my father's wellbeing I immediately rang the doctor, who managed to arrive almost immediately. My family had maintained a lifelong friendship with the doctor and over the years he had always provided us with a personalised service, which went way above and beyond the call of duty. "Hello Doctor, just a small pain in my lower tummy area." My father told the doctor, who quickly diagnosed the problem and explained to my father he would immediately organise an ambulance to take him to hospital. I could see in my father's eyes a combination of fear and acceptance of his fate, I am sure he knew his end was near. As a guise, the Doctor asked to use the phone to call the ambulance and to prepare the hospital, once out of earshot of my father, he explained that a major artery inside my father was breaking down and my father was haemorrhaging internally, any operation to try and fix it was futile. "Robert, I am sorry to say but the end is close, it is just a matter of hours. A combination of your love felt duty, bound to your father's wellbeing and his bravery, is all that has kept him alive for the past few years. Feel proud of yourself, do not feel any guilt, not many sons have done for their parents like you have." He kindly said as he placed a hand upon my shoulder. "I will wait and chat to your Dad until the ambulance arrives." He added. "Thank you for everything Doctor." I answered, unaware of what I was saying, it was as if my brain had gone onto automatic mode. As crazy as it may sound, my mind began to visualise images of Joyce my father's wife and mother to me linking arms with my father's mother, it was as if they were awaiting his arrival.

"Hello." A voice called from the front door. With a sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach, I knew it was time; quickly I rushed and opened the door to greet the paramedics. "Larry! I thought I recognised that voice, the angels have certainly been busy." I joked half-heartedly as I led the way to my father's bedroom. Larry was a personal friend of mine and was one of the kindest people I have ever met, his empathy for people simply overflowed, hence he was perfectly suited for those arduous tasks that paramedics mostly endured. "Hi fellows, forget the hospital, just take me straight to the cemetery." My father cordially remarked, as the paramedics busied themselves in preparation for my father's trip to the hospital. I knew my father's attempt at humour was a cover for his fear of being kept in hospital, I am sure he knew this would be his last trip in any ambulance, my heart pounded with many mixed emotions as I tried to compose myself, I knew I had to remain strong and calm as I watched my father being placed on the stretcher, my thoughts screamed with conflict, what could I do to save him? The word "nothing" echoed in my head, with all the love that had been instilled within me, I looked in his eyes and said "I have done everything I can; I will meet you at the hospital in fifteen minutes.

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My mind was moving faster than my body, as I hastily tidied myself before heading of in my car to meet my father at the hospital. The usually methodical routine of placing my car keys in my pocket and carefully locking the front door was abandoned; all I remember was slamming the front door behind me and quickly briefing my neighbours before I drove off. "I must inform my Uncle George that his usual Saturday visit to our home will be cancelled, instead I will collect him early in the morning and together we can visit his brother Bob in hospital." I said aloud to myself, as I mentally prepared for the inevitable outcome.

Surprisingly, there was little traffic to impede my journey to the hospital and in what I call record timing I safely arrived and hastened to the dreaded Admissions Office, where I anticipated the usual long wait while all of the necessary paperwork was attended to. "Yes sir, how may I help?" the Admin staff member called to me, as she continued to peruse the paper work she held in her hand. The mention of my surname as I replied, captured her immediate attention, such a surprising change of attitude immediately set of my internal alarm system, "Please follow me, the doctor will speak with you in his office." She politely instructed as she ushered me behind the counter. "Just wait here please, the doctor will be along shortly." Patiently I sat and awaited the arrival of the doctor; a part of me hoped that a prolonged wait would shield me from the truth, while the other part of me hungered for the impending news of my father's wellbeing.

"Mr Melville-Jones." The doctor said as he entered the room and placed himself on a seat directly in front of mine. With all the empathy he could muster, he slowly explained my father's scenario. "I regret what I have to say Robert; your father is on life support. His Abdominal Aorta has burst, we can stop the bleeding with an operation, but that will only leave your father permanently unconscious and still requiring life support." I swallowed hard and blankly stared ahead as I slowly absorbed and digested the Doctor's words. "So, nothing can save him and bring him back?" I questioned the Doctor. "Please follow me and you can see your father." The Doctor said. The tubes and equipment that were attached to my father indicated the battle that he had encountered; I could only pray that he had not suffered. "What would be your father's wishes regarding this situation?" he questioned. My answer came swift, it was as if I was simply a vessel to deliver the responding words, "My father loved life and his greatest wish was not to linger and die in hospital, I can truthfully say on my father's words, that he would rather die than be trapped by this situation which has obviously claimed him. Despite all of my fears, my guilt and any other negativity that I can think of, I must follow my heart in accordance to his wishes." "I do agree that you have made the right decision, Robert." The doctor replied, "The nurse will take you back to my office, where you can wait, while we prepare a private room for you to be with your father, we will keep him attached to the oxygen and an IV drip should he be in any pain."

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"Hello Robert." A familiar sounding voice called to me from the doorway of the Doctor's office, I promptly turned to see Larry the paramedic which had brought my father to the hospital. "I have waited to catch you and extend my condolences; your father went into cardiac arrest just as the ambulance left your street, we did everything we could to keep your Dad alive." He said, his voice breaking which revealed his emotional concern as he continued with his speech, "Your words say that you are okay, but your heart is mirrored in your eyes and they reflect your innermost feelings." I looked straight at him and replied, "Thanks for everything Larry, I truly empathise with those in this world, which have much sadder issues than mine, I can now only begin to comprehend their grief." I replied. "Grief has to be experienced to be truly defined and I guess everyone gets a chance sometime in their life, to create their own definition."

"Mr Melville-Jones, if you would follow me please, I will take you to be with your father." The nurse said. Bidding farewell to Larry, I composed myself with as much dignity as I could rally and followed the nurse. Once in the privacy of the room, I nodded and mumbled my thanks to the nurse, who softly replied, "Take as long as you need Robert and call me if you need anything."

"Is this how an only child's unsung hero of a father, finally ends his battle?" I thought to myself as I bent to kiss his forehead. "I hope somehow you can hear me Pop." I said aloud, as I began my unrehearsed apologetic ramblings. "I know how much you loved life and I would gladly swap places with you if I could. I cannot express the shame I carry, for all of the so many wrong choices that I made during my life, I did try, but I could never quiet live up to your expectations. I know you were always there for me, as I grew from a very molly-coddled child that never seemed to quiet fit the scene, into a shy teenager that somehow eventually graduated from High School and became an adult, I guess your extraverted personality helped to cover and shield me from my failings. The greatest gift that life has ever given me, has been the opportunity to care for both Joyce and yourself during your final years, it was during these latter years that we finally got to bond and accept each other for who we truly are." Subconsciously, I felt that if I continued speaking, it would mask the reality of the situation and that my father was only asleep. It was during this period of denial that my suppressed inner child began to surface and take control of my emotions; I wanted to cry out my feelings, admit my fear of being abandoned and beg for forgiveness, with that famous one more chance, to try again. "I love you Pop, and I hope you can somehow hear me." I said, as I stared directly at my father. It was only then that I realised how selfish I had been, I had unintentionally allowed my feelings to dominate this one sided conversation. "Sorry for doing all the talking as usual." I remarked, as I gently stroked the sun damaged skin on his forearm. "I know Mum is waiting for you, she wants you to take her swimming." I believe with all my heart that it was these few words that finally gave my father the courage to give up and go to her.

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 My father's chest convulsed slightly and then all became still, it was then that I knew his mission here on earth had ended and he was now in the arms of his beloved wife and mother to me. I continued to sit and talk with him, even though I knew his battle was over. That special part of my heart that will always remain bonded to him, could not accept he had gone and expected him to awaken with his usual zest for life, as he had done for the past eighty six years. "I love you Pop, thank you for being you and never giving up on me. Despite our many differences and the non-stop mistakes I constantly made, as I grew from a desperately lonely teenager into confidant lacking adult, you were always there to stand me on my feet. My true potential and self-worth lay dormant for most of my life and only surfaced when I was given the chance to care for both you and mum." I said, as every memory I possessed seemed to scramble and fight for a place of significant importance centre stage in my mind. I felt that the longer I stayed talking to my father, would somehow delay the inevitable. One last glance revealed how his naturally dark skin had yellowed and that all warmth in his now lifeless body had departed, it was time to fully accept, that he had gone.

Reluctantly I called the nurse and the doctor, to confirm my fears. "Yes Robert, your father has gone. "The doctor said calmly. "If you need more time that is okay." He added. After thanking everyone for their concerned efforts, and kissing my father's forehead for the last time, I bade my farewells. I vaguely remember walking to my car and driving myself home, where I was greeted by our concerned neighbours, "We insist you come in for a coffee and tell us how your father is." They graciously suggested. "Thanks." Was my reply, as they ushered me into their home. I steeled myself and somehow managed to contain my emotions as I delivered the sad news. "Bob died on the way to the Hospital, the only positive thing I can find and cling to, is that at least he was granted his wish, he was born in Merewether and he died in Merewether. He never wanted to end his days in a Hospital." My dear neighbours whole heartedly agreed as they offered their condolences. "Thanks for the coffee and your friendship, I will be okay, the most difficult part of tomorrow will be telling Uncle George my father's brother the news." I said as I bade my farewells for the night.

Sleep came surprisingly easy that night; however the truth of the reality hit hard when I awoke, my new found freedom did not contain any boundaries or walls and without these constraints I felt I had nothing to ground me, I had no real purpose anymore. Eventually my thoughts stabilised and I prepared myself for the saddest task of all, informing my Uncle that his brother had died. The trip to my Uncle's house was not long enough, it only took a few minutes, but as I walked from my car to his door I compared my feelings to those feelings of a condemned man as he walks to the gallows. "Hello, Uncle George, it's me Bobby John." I called out. "Come in, the door is unlocked, I have been waiting for you." He answered. With trepidation I entered his house.        

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       Uncle George was my fathers' eldest brother and they had always maintained a very close friendship, I feel their differences had created the perfect link, which kept them so closely bonded. The combination of George's forty year battle with diabetes had left him visually impaired and the loss of his wife in the last few years, had not prepared him for the loss of his fun loving, loud, younger brother. "Sorry for the bad news Uncle George, but Bob died last night." I said regretfully, as I explained every detail to him. I could sense his feelings of despair, another very close family member gone, why had he been abandoned and left to grieve all alone. "You are free now Bobby John, your days of caring for your Mum and Dad are over. Your Dad was a good man but I know how difficult he could be and you were often the stepping stone as his health began to fail. Do not ever feel guilty for anything, your loving care gave Bob extra time, he was lucky to have the son that you are." He said. "I would do it all over again if I had to." I replied.

The renewed energy I felt after my father's passing only lasted a few weeks, and bit by bit my morale faded. I realised then, that I had spent a lifetime craving his approval and now without his attention, I had completely lost interest, nothing was important anymore. Awakening each morning in house devoid of all conversation, reinforced my feelings of abandonment and rejection, simply put, I felt my role in life was completely over and I was now redundant. Luckily my job was something that I loved doing, it kept my mind occupied for the day, however, once back in my home I quickly succumbed to the grief that was now controlling my every thought. I had always been taught to confront my problems with a sense of rationality, however this problem could not be solved; after all you cannot bring back the dead. Fortunately my heart and my brain united for once and presented me with the only solution; I must assess my positive abilities and seek a new life, in a completely new environment.

My choices were simple, I could stay and slowly rot, or I could carefully plan a new venture and go. Some people would call it divine intervention, others would call it good fortune, but I chose to think that all of life's experiences were uniquely precious and had happened for a reason. My dearest friend, who represented the younger sister I never had, spent many hours listening to my plans and finally convinced me to follow my dreams, without her positive words and her innate kindness, I know, I would never have made it. During the next few months that followed, I spent many soul searching moments; these confirmed my suspicions that something guides us all to graciously accept and follow our mission in life, for it is only then that we find our true worth. Once I had accepted the past for what it was and the future for what it potentially could be, everything fell perfectly into place. For the first time in my life I took complete control and with renewed vigour, I methodically organised my affairs in preparation for the commencement of my new chosen life. Every day I ritually greeted my father and confided my plans, hoping that somehow he would send a sign of approval.                                                                                                                                  

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At last the 28th of September 2010 arrived; this was the big day of my departure from the country I had called home. My excitement annulled any fears or doubts I had, to be given a second chance at life was certainly the greatest gift anyone could ever receive and I was determined to find out why I had been so fortunate and to make the most of it. After many hugs and kisses, I finally bade my dearest friend farewell, promising to call her immediately upon my arrival in Manila, where I would be met and picked up by my host family. The feelings of excitement that overpowered me could only be compared to the rush of the plane's engines, as it raced down the runway and burst into the air. Somehow I knew this renewed surge of energy, this new life I had been granted, was to be used for a higher purpose and not to be wasted on guilty pleasure.

I have always been a firm believer that life's many challenges are merely tools to enhance our spiritual growth. It is when our darkest moments bring us to our knees and we are truly shaken with the fearful reality that we may never again see life the way it used to be, that we realise, this is the opportunity to find and follow that eternal guiding light back to our heart, where our power to forgive and to love again sits patiently awaiting its chance to heal all.