It was 1994. April had passed and May was ending. And I couldn’t get a job in Brisbane. Later I found out why. But surprisingly that was not the worst that had happened that year. I had endured a public humiliation followed by a public shunning due to my wife’s infidelity. Afterwards we had reconciled (ostensibly). A fortnight later I had lost my job. And I couldn’t find another. In that vacuum, I took steps to start a small business but the marketing was against me.
So i turned my intentions interstate. New South Wales specifically. And quite quickly I was interviewed for a role in Sydney. Liverpool in fact.
Which meant once I was offered the role that I would have to find accommodation. I thought I’d stay in a hotel or hostel or something until a rental came up. But it was then that both parents – Mum and Dad acted simultaneously. What they did absolutely floored me. They helped. Without me asking them. They just did it. Which went completely against my ingrained childhood expectations.
The first week I stayed at my Dad’s place in Kiama Downs and borrowed his car. He stayed I believe at my sister’s place in Nowra. So I had the place to myself – as a place to sleep after a two hour drive. And what surprised me about that week – I knew exactly where everything was : but I had left home fourteen years beforehand!
The next week I stayed at Mum’s apartment in Kiama. I still had Dad’s car though which presented a problem on the Thursday. I needed Mum’s keys and she was at an ALP branch meeting. So I walked in and she held up the meeting for me. And handed my keys. But I still had a problem. The only way into her house was via the garage. And I didn’t have or couldn’t find the right key. So I scaled the wall facing the side of the street and let myself in.
Meanwhile I was looking for accommodation in Liverpool. And found a flat in Warwick Farm : a standard two bedroom flat with a combined kitchen, dining and lounge room.
The only problem was I had no furniture. None. So Mum and Dad gave me a mattress, a clothes hanger and some other bits and pieces to set up. My contribution was buying the world’s ugliest and most uncomfortable plastic outdoor setting for the dining room. Which was only used once : when my then manager and his wife visited after work drinks.
What shocked and astonished me was their unfettered kindness. I had no expectations. None whatsoever. So much so that I still struggle to ask for help. Even from those I know and trust. Because way back then the answer was almost always no or not now or a promise followed by no. So I am left wondering thirty or so years later : why was the childhood was different from adulthood?
