Why the restoration? well this is why

There are times in our lives when our memory captures a image, a moment that is very special, which just sticks with you and is imprinted there forever, it will never change, it will never leave you, it is so very clear and more detailed.
Why am I writing this?, I'm not to sure, but I do know that one of my moments that I look back on often was when dad was mid through his stay in hospital, it was another hospital visit to sit and talk with dad, nothing spectacular or dramatic or prearranged for that matter but it was a moment in time that struck something special with me, it put my life into perspective and I look back on this captured image, the sounds and the touch from time to time, but more so when I am restoring this car of dads, for it is this that is pushing me to complete it

I wrote these words late one night after a visit to dad in hospital

"The alarm clock is approaching 2.57am, I am not sleeping tonight as I have been laying awake,  listen to my wife sleeping, the motions and rhythmic sounds of her breathing in time with the slow loud rain drops hitting on the metal roof have kept my mind busy for a good few hours but also constantly thinking of dad, so I have made my way up to the lounge room in the darkness while my family sleeps, switched on the computer to load up the photos that I took last night, so here I am sitting, staring at the bright white screen in my jocks and socks, not a pretty sight at this hour...

Where do I start, think!, think!.....3pm I arrived at the Alfred Hospital yesterday and I am greeted by Liz, a long time friend and mum and dads in the hallway outside dads room, I wrap my arms around this amazing woman, give her a hug and then place a kiss on her forehead and we have a breif chat, "Where's mum, how's dad," all the standard stuff as everything seems like a routine now, the hospital staff now know us and give a smile as they quietly go about their business.

Liz shows me dads new room as he has been shifted closer to the nurses station and points me in the direction of it, I enter and walk in slowly past the short corridor of blue room dividing curtains towards the large windows which overlooks Melbourne city and here is dad, sitting around on the side on the bed with his hands placed on his head and his elbows resting on the bed/table trolley, he is starring down at the ground and I straight away notice the hissing sound of the oxygen pumps working away which is new to me this visit, I stand there for a few minutes looking at him in his new pale blue pyjamas, watching him slowly rubbing both hands back and forth over his newly acquired bald head then out the corner of his eye he turns, looks up and says "Gidday, your here, how are you bud" through the oxygen mask, it sounds muffled and a little strange to me at first, then he quickly returns to that same position which obviously  must be comfortable for him, he slowly lowers his head again and keeps rubbing it so I move forward in beside him, sit on the bed, then I wrap my left arm completely around him, carefully pulling him in close and I whisper in his ear. "How are you, it will be all right dad".
We stayed like that for a what seemed like ages, life stood still, both looking out at busy lives going on down below us, we didn't say anything, we didn't need to say a word,  we both just sat there and soon dad said "Help me get back in bed mate"..

Yes dad is doing it tough and since Monday he had not had a drink or taken solid foods, a line is directly dripping a white (food) liquid into him, this is so they can monitor what goes in and out of him due to the intestine and chest infections, the oxygen mask assists his breathing which he takes off and on everything few minutes to rub ice blocks on his lips because the oxygen dries them out really quickly.

You can just see the relief written all over his face and hear the relaxing moans he makes as he rubs the ice on his lips, back and forth, back and forth until the ice block has all but melted and the cool liquid then is running down over his neck, straight away he is reaching over to his little table and wraps his weathered hand around a bottle of fizzy lemonade, quickly unscrewing the cap but shaking as he goes and fills his mouth with it, swirling the fizzy drink around and around and around then with the other hand holding a cup under his mouth and spits in back out...."Bloody hell that feels good", he looks around, gives a little grin and hands me the cup .."Put that in the bin please", reaching for the mask he lowers the oxygen back over his head, positioning it on his nose and again feels relaxed and lays there, but within a matter of minutes the legs start to kick around and his routine swings into action one more time with his arm reaching out for the cup of ice, which constantly keeps getting topped up by whoever is closest to his bed.

Dad is talking OK and alert of what is going on around him, the team of nurses and doctors are fantastic and are forever poking and prodding him with blood tests, urine tests and blood pressure test, etc, it never seems to stop, he has about five lines of liquid dripping into him hanging off two pumps directly bedside him and with dads and the other man beside dad there are machines beeping constantly, it is not a quite place but you get used to the beeping noises as then a nurse rushes in and adjust the pump and all is quiet once more........

He is a strong, gusty man who is still just going about his business quietly, but that's how dad has always lived his life...quietly, with little fuss and just no bullshit!!

Sitting on the bed, with my arm wrapped around dad, holding him tightly...... that's my moment!!..

This photo below was one of the more happier times when visiting dad in hospital, my brother Stuart and I arrived for a visit one night shortly after dad was admitted, we were all in fine form with the "one liners" and jokes, I remember it so clearly and when we left dad, he was in very good spirits, I love this photo of the three of us.....