Picnics At Matilda Bay

Picnics At Matilda Bay

By Kim van Breda

Biography / Memoirs

March 2003

Published by Kim van Breda at SMASHWORDS

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Copyright 2003 Kim van Breda

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Picnics At Matilda Bay

By Kim van Breda

Table Of Contents

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Epilogue

ABOUT THE BOOK

DISCOVER MY OTHER TITLES

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

CONNECT WITH ME

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CHAPTER 1

There are no short cuts to any place worth going

The weeks preceding our departure were marked by many mixed emotions. It fell just before the Easter weekend, towards the end of April.

Everyday involved a long list of things to be organised, not the least of which was the packing and three day removal of the contents of our home for the last thirteen years. We thought we had done a pretty good job of sorting out and throwing out of our unnecessary accumulations, but as the packing company moved through the house, box by box, did we have our eyes opened as to just how much our belongings amounted to.

I think for our children, who had only ever known this home, it was a very traumatic experience to see things being turned upside down, and then hidden away in heaps of paper and boxes, not quite knowing when we would see them again.

I remember walking through our home as it emptied out, feeling a deep sense of sadness, mixed with the excitement of knowing that a huge change was now inevitable.

My personality type is also one that likes organisation and routine, and so of course, irritability reared its ugly head with the chaos that now surrounded me.

Our flight from Cape Town to Perth was booked for Tuesday the 25th April at 2pm, so we had to co-ordinate our final day of packing as best we could with our departure.

Other last minute arrangements, included things like the closing of our bank accounts, final appointments with Doctors, Dentists and Hairdressers for us all, and very last minute desperate attempts to find a good home for our three cats. At this stage they were nervously running around amidst the packers, not knowing what was going on.

On the final day the packers were there, a contact through my dance class, a cat lover, phoned to say she would like to come around and see the cats.

True to cat nature, of course, half an hour before she was due to arrive, the cats mysteriously disappeared. There we were in all this chaos, frantically trying to find them, knowing this would probably be the last chance we would have to find a good home for them.

By the time she arrived, we had managed to locate them in the garden, and bring them inside to a quiet empty room of the house.

When this very kind lady said, yes, she would take all three of them, we knew this was yet another answer to our prayers.

Brenton had decided to take his car to Australia, in the container along with the entire contents of our house, so he spent the last afternoon in our home, taking his car to be steam cleaned, one of the many requirements by the Australian import controls. We therefore needed the large container, as the car went in along with the furniture, and in the end, we only just got everything to fit in that.

On Thursday evening, before Easter Friday, we said a final farewell to all our belongings, as the removal truck moved off to take the entire contents of our home to be loaded on to a container boat bound for Perth the following day.

We were told this could take anything from six to ten weeks to arrive that end.

With our beds and belongings on their way, we moved in with my Mom and Dad, who as always had offered to accommodate us in every way. They would have to deal with emotions and mood swings, while at the same time, obviously deal with their own, at the prospect of having to say good-bye in a couple of days to their Grandchildren and us, not knowing when we would be together again.

Having to decide what to pack in our hand luggage had also been a difficult task, especially knowing that what we didn’t take with us on the plane, we probably would not see for a couple of months. Luggage weight restrictions were also very strict, as we were later to discover at Johannesburg International airport.

The next couple of days passed in a blur of good-byes and well wishes from extended family and friends. It was very touching for us to realise what an impact our decision to emigrate, had on all those close friends one tends to take for granted. They all put on brave faces, wishing us everything of the best for our new life in Australia, while at the same time it was plain to see just how saddened they were by our leaving.

For me, I knew the hardest part was still to come – saying good-bye to my two younger sisters, Lee and Rae, who were not only my sisters, but also, my closest friends. There was nothing that the three of us hadn’t shared over the years and the thought of not having them around to confide in and share experiences with, was just too unbearable to even contemplate.

I had managed to keep my feelings at bay, by being busy, organising our move, but with all that out of the way, and just our departure day looming ever closer, I knew that facing that was now inevitable.

Easter Sunday dawned, and we, true to family tradition, had our Easter egg hunt in the garden for the children, followed by an equally traditional ‘Skottel’ brunch of bacon, eggs, sausage and mushrooms, accompanied by champagne and orange juice. Things seemed so normal. I had to keep reminding myself that in less than two days, I would be missing my family.

Cards and small gifts were exchanged between my Mom and Dad, sisters and I, all with the meaningful words we found so hard to verbalise.

The day before we left was taken up with last minute packing and washing and final people popping in to say their good-byes, along with the numerous telephonic well wishes.

I kept feeling that although we were at my parent’s home, I wasn’t getting to spend any of our final precious time with them. In retrospect, this was just as well, as when we did find ourselves face to face, the reality of what was happening was just too much, and I would dissolve into tears.

We needed two cars to get our entire luggage and us to the airport on Tuesday. I chose to travel with my Mom, Dad and sisters in their car, while Brenton and the children went with Brenton’s parents, and their cousins Jamie and Jason.

I think it was during this time spent travelling to the airport that things started to sink in. Instead of all the busy chatter and action of the last couple of days, we all found ourselves speechless, and I started to feel physically ill. I feared that if I opened my mouth to speak, firstly, nothing I could say could ever seem appropriate for the moment, and that I would also have to ask my Dad to stop the car on the side of the road to be sick.

My sisters Lee and Rae were equally quiet; I presume using all their energy to fight off emotion and tears as I was. It was almost a relief to get to the airport, as we could all cover up again with the procedure of booking our luggage in and double checking the boarding passes, once again avoiding the inevitable final good-byes. I can’t recall who it was that I first took into my arms to hug and say good-bye to, but I do know there was no holding back the tears from then onwards.

Each family member had their own farewell ‘words of wisdom’, and although most of them touched another soft spot in me, it was the words of my dad which I will never forget –If things don’t work out my girl, you know where home is-come back…..

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CHAPTER 2

Fly like a bird with your dreams

Flying long distances or travelling to foreign countries was not a new experience for my family. We had been fortunate enough to enjoy quite a few overseas holidays together in the United States, London, Scotland, Holland and Canada. Brenton and myself had also enjoyed Greece as our honeymoon destination, 15 years previously.

Even Perth, the place we were heading for was only last September’s family holiday. However, this felt very different