How blessed I am. I share my life with a one of a kind husband, seven amazing adult children, with several equally amazing partners, and eight grandchildren (with another one on the way). A life full of love, laughter, music and mayhem... an amazing life!
I sit quietly, a rare moment by myself and look at the family photos, just Peter and I, young and in love. I can’t believe it has been almost 43 years since we met, because it seems like only yesterday. I find I cannot account for each minute, hour, day, or even each year that have woven themselves into this tapestry I call life. Snippets of memories, trigger more memories and soon the story begins to unfold.
It was January 1969 and I was just 16. I had finished school and had started work. I had been reading a book my brother-in-law gave me titled How to stop worrying and start living by Dale Carnegie. This was my first taste of personal development and I liked it. I liked how it made me feel, and as I walked across the bridge to work every morning I’d smile and say hello to others. I learned that you should never condemn, criticise or complain, and my self-confidence was growing.
Throughout most of my childhood I had danced but had never done ballroom and so one lunch hour I took myself along to the Sandy Robertson studio in Brisbane to enquire about classes. The welcoming stairs encouraged “walk up, dance down” and so I did. I was excited with the anticipation of something new. Little did I know my destiny was in place when I talked my mum and dad into driving me into the city the next week for my first class.
Well, all the boys lined up on one side of the hall and the girls on the other, and there was this one boy who kept changing with the other boys until he was standing opposite me. We danced on air, we just fit together and it was as if we had known each other before. The teacher, Bob Steele, told us we looked good together and partnered us up, and so it was, the dance of life began. Not always have we danced to the same tune, and there have been a lot of toes stepped on over the years, but we have learned to go with the flow and just enjoy the ever-changing rhythms.
Our first three months were a fairytale. The synchronicity of our meeting gives me goose bumps when I think about it now. Peter was conscripted into the army, the luck of the draw based on birth dates. He was from Melbourne and had been sent to Brisbane for training before he was to go to Vietnam. We spent as much time together as possible, dancing, falling in love and learning about each other. We came from such opposite backgrounds, I was like an only child (my sisters being 17 and 20 years older than me) and Peter was the eldest of 9 children. I had told my family when I was just four years old that I would have lots of children when I grew up, so to meet Peter and hear all about his brothers and sisters was just wonderful. I knew that I wanted to spend my life with him and create our family together.
One of the first things he told me was that I could be, do or have anything that I wanted. I had never been told that before, and those words impacted my life greatly. He is still my number one fan and mentor.
Peter went off to Vietnam and every day we wrote long and beautiful letters to each other, and recorded voice tapes. How incredible, the latest technology of the day meant that you could record your voice on a three-inch reel-to-reel tape and then mail it to the other person. The right equipment was needed and then you could listen to each other’s message. It certainly made the separation more bearable. A day without a letter or tape would be the worst, and then the elation the next day when two would arrive in the mail, was indescribable.