Suzanne and I didn’t have much money so we didn’t have many holidays. The first was with Hilary. We went to the Coromandel in her mini. I had never been there before. It was stunning. We stayed with friends of Hilary’s including at the Anglican vicarage at Whitianga.
I still have the pictures of the small bays we stopped in. We also found the house that was in the movie Sleeping Dogs, based on CK Stead’s book, Smith’s Dream which I read when I was doing English. I loved the movie and finding the house was cool. In the movie it is on an island but in reality it was on the mainland.
The fresh air and scenery did us both good. It was a lovely break.
I don’t remember how the second holiday came about. I went on my own and Suzanne had respite with IHC. I went to Ohope beach. I stayed at Clare’s family bach. I didn’t know anyone though I did have afternoon tea with one of the neighbours and I went to dinner one night at the hotel. In reality I was lonely and miserable. I missed Suzanne terribly. I think I was suppose to rest but I don’t think being away from Suzanne was restful.
When I picked Suzanne up, the woman in charge complained that I hadn’t told her about Suzanne’s seizures. I had, and I gave her Suzanne’s medication. Trouble was, I thought the number of seizures Suzanne had in a day was normal, Apparently it wasn’t.
The last holiday I had was with Simone Tee, She was one of my best friends. She lived on the corner of Botanical Road and 19th Avenue. She was separated from her husband and had a young daughter, Anna. She also had MS.
We went to Raglan and stayed at some accommodation run by MS. It was a great arrangement. Simone would stay with Suzanne on the beach and Anna and I would explore and swim. It was lovely and relaxing. On the last night we got fish and chips and oysters. I suspect the oysters were off and we were all sick the day we left.
When I got back I rang Margaret to let her know we were home. She asked if I had heard from Mum. I said no and she said you need to talk to her. She didn’t want to tell me what was wrong but eventually I got it out of her.
While I was away, Nana Hunter had died. Her funeral had been held the day before. I had missed it. I was really gutted.
That was when I decided that going away was a bad thing. Later it would prove to be true.
© Barbara Hart 2014