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A Golden Anniversary poem for Parents reminiscing over the wonderful years.
We have been asked not to publish the details of this request.
Hoad Place Hilton
| It is a sad fact today, it's an indictment on our time, that marriages don't stay together. too many words refuse to rhyme. And that's one of the reasons that you're remarkable, because your love has stood the test of fifty years, you've managed through thick and thin, so many memories, laughter and tears. December, 1952 was an eon ago, a very different time, a different place, some would say it was better then, I guess it certainly had a different pace. But that's where your story started, a magical start to so many wonderful spells, from the Trocadero to St. Andrews, to the Pacific Hotel (and mornay served in real sea shells). Dad was born in Cairns and he worked in the Ply Mill during the second World War, later a truck driver, sugar cane harvester, certainly proved what hard work was for. He spent twenty years oiling the wheels of industry, his commitment, once again, was hearty and hale, and that's where he gracefully retired, after finalizing the very last detail. In his youth he played rugby league, inspired the Kangaroos and the Ivanhoes, he was also a life saver for many years and he's saved many a distressed swimmer, I suppose. He's received many trophies for his swimming and even now he's still a Master Mudcrab and he's lived his life with a vitality, which most have never experienced or ever had. Mom was born on the family farm: "Topperfettle", she was the first daughter in a family of eight, she worked at the pharmacy and then in fabric sales, (hard work has always been a family trait). At various times, things were tough and Mom would sew until the wee hours, she made everything that we wore (including underwear), her commitment is just one of her remarkable powers. And the branches of the tree have spread, most of the children couldn't wait to come along, the twins followed shortly after and then the sons decided to join the throng. Glenice was born in the flat at 207 Abbott Street, (you remember, opposite the tennis courts), Noel tried to crank the old Buick and hit his head, I guess, that's one of the more painful thoughts. Then they moved to 12 Mckenzie Street, that's when the twins decided to arrive, much to Noel's alarm they were two months early, but he was relieved on 31st October 1955. Then they moved to The Hilton and have stayed there ever since, Kenneth arrived on 2nd December 1960, it's been said that Mum never even winced. And the story wasn't yet complete, because Paul arrived on 5th February, 1968, he was spoilt rotten by his elder sisters and brother, but that's probably something he'd like to debate. I remember the night Dad lay on the bed and the legs fell out from underneath, he unceremoniously landed on the floor and his utterances were simply beyond belief. And now there's twelve grandchildren and two great grandchildren, make nineteen, they're all magical parts of this wonderful family, in fact, it's the finest team this world's ever seen. And even though our parents were hard workers, we still had a wonderful childhood, it was so much fun, we grew up in Nappy Alley, warm in our parents love and the summer sun. And the park in front of The Hilton, was a great place to play or fly a kite, it's where we learnt our early skills and it's where we learnt the art of flight. Because time never stands still and somethings just never last, cars, motorbikes, barbecues and then like the cars, life started moving rather fast. But we still all love to visit the Hoad Place Hilton and how we love to stay there a while, there's always a wonderful, welcoming feeling and of course, a heartfelt smile. Our parents have always been there for us, always have been and always will, Dad is always good at fixing things, but their role in our lives would be impossible to fill. And it's all down to you, Mum and Dad, you've shown us all what love and hard work is for, so here's to you Mum and Dad, you're our inspiration and here's to at least another fifty more. |
Allen Jesson
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