GregKidd

I had a dream that I was at Fairfield’s Yarra Bend Park today and Dad was there. Not passed away, zooming around in his wheelchair.

There was something about a garden and horses. I can’t remember.

We will drop Greg’s keys off today in Collingwood. I feel like I should go to that park we went to when I was a child. That park where my Grandfather Harold Kwong had his accident which led to a spinal cord injury. What are the chances that Greg’s father in law would end up in the Austin?

When searching the most recent version of Dad’s autobiography, the only mention I could find was a single line focusing on his self criticism in the moment Mum told him about his fall.

On reflection, that’s quite odd because I’m very certain Dad had written about the impact. Looks like I’ll have to dig back into his laptop. Hopefully it’s not one of the versions on a floppy disk!

I suppose for some it wouldn’t be odd. But I believed that my Grandfather was Dad’s favourite. He did write, on the time he lived with them in the early 80’s to adopt me that:

“Despite his several decades in Australia, (Harold) spoke strong Cantonese-
flavoured English that some listeners found hard to understand. His daughters were very familiar with his speech patterns, which he
indulgently allowed them to mimic. He was delighted to share some banter with (Jennifer) amid a stream of chuckles at her cheeky impersonations. Loath to intrude, I usually withdrew mentally when I witnessed their togetherness; nevertheless, I enjoyed the conversations my father-in-law and I shared. He was a humble and generous man, who had endured much, some of it in the form of enslavement by occupying Japanese forces in Hong Kong during World War 11. He had many stories to tell, and I was quite happy to listen.”