Unbreakable


Most of my memories of time among my family from when I was a kid centre around mum. I suppose it was partly the social mores of the 1970s where the dad went to work and the mum stayed home to keep house and raise children.

I remember my mother rejoining the workforce when I was in my very early teens (it might have been earlier), but a huge part of my father's identity throughout my early life life was of him being at work. We didn't see nearly as much of or interact with him as we did with mum.

Depending on who you ask he either had an amazing work ethic or maybe wanted to spend time out of the house. I never witnessed any danger or threat of violence but it's no secret among any of you my parents didn't have the most harmonious of relationships. Just one of the points of contention was that he worked six days a week every week without fail.

But on top of that I hardly remember him having any holidays or even a day off here or there. If he did it was a very special occasion. He went to Tewantin with us a handful of times, though not many, but the only time I really remember my father being around was at night and on Saturday.

I didn't know his mind then and don't know, but like to think some of the reason he did it was because he was raised at a time where you got married, had kids and then spent the rest of your life doing what was needed to keep them fed and clothed. We all know he would have done anything for his family and if I got no other example from him about how to live I hope I got that.

Which brings me to the day he got an injury at work. He was at Esso Brighton, the same service station I wrote about a few month back. He was in the workshop off the end of the main shop when a toolbox fell off a shelf and gouged a cut down his leg I remember being about ten inches long. It was so bad it needed stitches and I can still see the scar that was on his leg for years to come in my mind.

So did Frank take a few days or a week off work? No, he went to a medical centre or hospital nearby, got it fixed up and went straight back to work, jut like that apocryphal story about Chinese peasants giving birth standing up in the fields and getting straight back to picking rice.

Great Nana and Nana lived so long and Elaine and Janice don't show many signs of slowing down, so I always think I've been blessed with long lasting genes. But when I remember the toolbox story it makes me wonder what Frank was made of too. He was either impervious to pain and injury, or – when it came to what he saw as his responsibilities – he just got on with it.

If I inherited even a little bit of that, I'll be happy.

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