The Angry Dieter

My mother became an Australian Citizen tonight. I went to the citizenship ceremony with my family.. We turned up late - by one minute, and everyone stared at us as we walked in. I found a seat at the back, to die quietly of mortification, as my parents and sister went up the front and were stared at openly by everyone in the room. My sister waved at me to sit with them, and heads swung around to look at me, as I shook my head and mouthed “no”. Then it turns out Mum forgot her identification, and she said “oh i can pop home and get it” everyone laughs, I slump lower in my seat, and the man next to me tch’s and Dad says, “no worries love, I’ll get it.” Off he goes. Heads turn and watch his exit, look at me, then turn back to the front as the mayor reads out the spiel about being a citizen and what it means.

The Mayor finished reading the spiel, and then started calling out names, Dr So’n'So, Professor This’n'that. I should mention that my parent’s live in the Western Suburbs (snobby part of Perth) and as such, lots of doctors and academics live in the area. All speak perfectly english, well educated english, and they all get up one by one and read the oath. Dad returns, and thankfully, no one is staring at him as they are watching people being photographed waving Australian Made Aussie flags, as the Mayor pointed out.

Eventually all the names are read out, oaths taken, and the man sitting next to me, ticks the names off one by one. We all stand up and sing the National Anthem. Thankfully just the first verse which everyone knows, not the second one about being beneath the Southern Cross etc.

Mum got her own private swearing in ceremony in the Council Chambers, after the main event, and I haven’t been in there for years. So the Mayor and my mother stand in the middle of the room, and the Mayor reads all the stuff again, Mum standing there grinning like a cheshire cat, and dad taking plenty of photos. Afterwards, I asked the Mayor what he did to be nominated for an Order of Australia. He’d been into getting kids involved in sport etc. Seemed like a nice man, who’s hands shook, so I assume he’s got Parkinsons. He also was surprised to find out, after he told Mum to go speak to an Electoral Officer outside (the man marking names off and tchíng at my parents), that Mum has been voting since she was 21.

Dad took one last photo of Mum and the mayor standing in front of the Coat of Arms for where they live, and then we’re back into the other room. Standing around the bar getting drinks, I noticed a man look at my parents and my sister, and within 5 minutes joined my parents and started talking to them. My sister excused herself needing a smoke, and I followed a few minutes later (I don’t smoke). She and I had a discussion about addiction and psychological issues with think we have in the family, and I ended the conversation with a statement that I’ve lost my emotional weight and not to put it on to me that it was all due to my problems personally that I’ve been through for the last 10 years.

I went back to the reception room, and the man is still talking to Mum, and I was looking at him wondering why he was still talking to her. I had visions of him trying to crack onto Mum, or attaching himself to my parents and going to rip them off. I decided I didn’t like him. He made some comments about meeting my parents at the next labor party meeting and mum laughed, and then we mutually decided, as Dad had gone out to join my sister on the bench to smoke, that it was time to go. We couldn’t get out without some other man stopping mum and congratulating her on her citizenship, and saying “well you can vote now” and Mum repeating as she had to the Mayor and the Electoral Commission man, in her posh voice “Darling, I’ve been voting since I was 21″ Since apparently back then British Citizens who emigrated, had that right to vote.

We went back to my parent’s house, and more coffee was produced, and Mum announced to us that my favourite uncle, Paul, whom we all knew had lung cancer, that it had spread to his brain. He was refusing to see all the family bar his son and daughter, and even then he was barely tolerating their presence, and he wants no visitors so we remember what he was like at his most debonaire. A tall dark and handsome man with curly hair, deep brown eyes, cheeky smile and a penchant for port, cigars and lots of marijuana. He was a womaniser, an entrepeneur, a man who developped a social conscience. He said he would die by the time he was 40, but he’s closer to 60. He didn’t attend his Chemo sessions, and I guess he valued his quality of life, rather than quantity.

I don’t know how long he will live for but I would imagine it’s a matter of weeks. Not months.

So overall, a wonderful night, with a twist at the end. I think I would have preferred Mum wait until another day to tell us about Uncle Paul.

October 11th, 2005 | Category: Blogging | Subscribe to comments | Leave a comment | Trackback URL