5 minutes of fame continues on TV

To our utter surprise as we were taking families, and tourists for rides on the Gold Coast yesterday a news crew shows up and asks us for an interview. That is when we found out that Deano had been in the paper that day. It was a shock to us but it was pleasant...Why didn't they give me a heads up...at least I could have been in better shape or had some make up on or my hair done...but that's life isn't it...right when you are not expecting it something surprises you. This was defenatly a surprise and a delight for Deano
http://www.nbnnews.com.au/2015/12/20/blind-bike-guide-inspires-holidaymakers/

Blind Man Hits the headlines today

I am just so excited today...a newspaper article from the Gold Coast Bulletin was printed about Deano today.
http://m.goldcoastbulletin.com.au/blind-man-loves-nothing-more-than-jumping-in-one-of-his-pedal-cars/story-fnj90t7b-1227642213510

Love this article to bits....(except they got his name wrong)

Life is sweet and so are little girls

Life was so much easier when my girls were little. I was speaking to an old friend today that I just happened to bump into at church. She shared with me the dilemma she had been through with her teenage children. I could totally understand her pain as our family goes through trials of its own. When the girls where little they were so cute with the way they looked after their Dad. Very quickly they learned that their Dad could not see everything they were up to. Child number three was especially the most cluie in this regard.

Child number three was born with the after effects of me having undetected gestational diabetes. At only a few hours old she was having seizures due to her blood glucose levels plummeting. Needless to say she had grown up to have a very sweet tooth.

This child was also a very good climber and if there were any treats in the house she would sniff them out no matter where they were hidden. She would climb the chest of draws, the pantry shelves or the door jamb to reach any height and nab herself a sweet reward. Not much has changed in her 16 years.

Needless to say this child had become an expert in hiding any evidence…wrappers were found in her pillow case, tucked under the springs of her bunk bed, or even behind the s bend in the toilet. On one occasion where I had found that some birthday sweets were missing in the cupboard I asked Dean to sort it out as I prepared for the evening meal.

Off he went doing the dutiful Dad thing. At the time child number three was only 18 month old. We knew that she had been in the cupboard because all the tell-tale signs were evident, similar to that of a mouse making a mess in your cupboard but instead of filthy mouse droppings and tiny corners of packets chewed open we found the pantry door left wide open, dining chair propped in front of the open door and several packets of cereal spilt all over the floor with a scattering of sweet wrappers on top.

Deano calling out her name he did three laps of the house not being able to track her down. The fourth time I silently followed behind him. To my utter amazement this sneaky cheeky little girl had worked out how to avoid being caught by her blind father. With her back up against the wall and hands flat against the plaster, head tilted so one side of her face was pressed up to the hard gyprock, like a jewellery thief that you see in the movies she was allowing her father to walk right past her so that she could not get caught. She has even worked out that if she used the door jamb that lead to the corner of the room she would have less chance of being sprung. Oh how children learn so quickly! To this day we marvel at her ability to work this trick out at such a young age and how smart she was to notice that her dad was not able to see her in different situations such as different light aspects of a room.

Although this does not seem like an earth shattering event it is just one of those little memories we have of rearing our girls and just a little extra obstacle in parenthood we never thought that we would have to face. Now days the obstacles seem so much bigger and more frightening but not caused by their father being blind but caused by a world that is blinding choices for youth. Never before has the internet been so accessible to our youth and I feel that some young people just don’t see the real world beyond the screen. I know that Deano would die to see the real world as I do, and perhaps one day he will, maybe not in this life time but in the next. My only wish is that our children don’t take their life and sight for granted and live life every day with a grateful heart and see in themselves what potential they have to make a difference for good in this world.

Toilet Humour

People often tell me that they just don’t believe me when I tell them that Deano is blind. “But He copes so well…or how can He do so much?” Are both common comments that if I had a dollar for every time I have heard them I would be very rich indeed!

But just as I shared a very embarrassing moment in my last post Dean has had some doozies that have been caused by him faking being able to see. One in particular sticks out in my mind. We were on a family holiday with our new camper trailer hooked up to the tow bar. We had taken the coast road from Lismore to the Gold Coast on what seemed like a never ending stretch of coastal road with no views for miles other than bush scrub out the right window and sclerophyll sand dunes through the left and a ribbon of hot steamy road ahead.

With the fuel meter tipping down low I pulled into a lone service station with the remainder of what seemed like every holidaying family in the world all queuing to fill their thirsty tanks. The day was hotter than an outback lizard under carriage and I wasn’t the best truckie at the time with only a few hours of experience towing a trailer behind the car. I managed to get the car and trailer into the line-up for the outside petrol pump…you know it…the one closet to the road, so that I didn’t have to do any tricky turns or even more embarrassing, unhook the trailer and do the walk of shame in order not to hit anything in my towing path. In our little car with the air-conditioning on full ball I hear a little voice from the back seat…”I need to do a wee wee Mummy” This was a darling number 3 daughter who was 18 months old and had just graduated into big girls pants.

Alarm bells rang in my head…what is a woman to do…I am not a miracle queen…I can’t get out of the petrol pump line…and I can’t let my little toddler down…she relied on me as did all the other occupants of the car and those in the line behind me.

I turned and faced my husband who was blissfully unaware of my dilemma listening to the radio as we crept along in the line. Until now having three daughters toilet duty was a mummy thing, especially when we were out and about, you hardly ever see a man taking their daughter to the male toilet do you? What else could I do? I looked at him and said in a stern and a little stressed voice…”Well it’s your turn I just can’t do it all. Can you please take child number three to the toilet in the petrol station. Child number one (who was 5 at the time) can lead you to the door of the bathroom and you will have to find your way to a toilet from there.” Without a choice my blind husband unlocked the girls out of their car seats and walked with child number three over his shoulder and child number 1 holding his hand and guiding him to the bathroom.

Meanwhile it was my time to fill up the car at the petrol bowser. I got out of the car and started the flow into the tank. Clunk. The tank indicated it was full so I took child number 2 out of the car and paid for the petrol and came back to my car to find that the toilet mission had a successful outcome for child number 3….but not so much for my poor husband who had put the girls back in their car seats and was now almost lying on the floor in the front seat of the car, his body slouched down with head leaning almost on my lap and his hand over his face. “Can we just get out of here?” He demanded in an impatient manner. I looked at him bewildered. I wondered what had happened, had he robbed the store, had one of the kids played in toilet water…my mind boggled.

“Can we just GO PLEASE!!!?” With that I put my pedal to the metal and we hit the road…but as I drove I was compelled to inquire what had gotten his goat? He started to compose himself and as he did he turned his head in my direction and firmly said to me “Don’t you ever ask me to take the girls to the toilet ever again, I have never been so embarrassed in all my life.”

What could possibly go so wrong, I was so perplexed at his state…”What went down Babe?”

His response is one I will never forget “When child number one led me to the male bathroom I felt around for the door the cubical. With my hand out-stretched to try and feel the hard door but instead of a cold hard feeling my fingertips brushed up against a warm soft bum! You see there were no cubical doors and I just touched a man up on his BOTTOM while he was standing in front of the toilet trying to pee”

“What happened next Hun?” was my immediate response, as I tried to hold back the roar of laughter that was welling up inside me,  just so he could manage to get the rest of the story out before I completely fell apart in fits of giggles.

“All I heard was the man pulling up his pants, and  zipping up his fly, he turned around and said “Mate you put me off!” Not sure what He was thinking cause he did not know I was blind,  as I didn’t have a cane,  and I was holding a little girl over my shoulder. I think that was the only reason he did not job me one!”

From that moment I laughed all the way to the Gold Coast, I giggled on and off through the evening and I think I laughed even in my sleep. No I wasn’t laughing at Deano…just the absurdity of the whole situation. It has been one of those stories that we tell dinner guests who ask Dean how much he can see…Its one of the stories that we both laugh about today.

We managed to enjoy the rest of our camping trip and yes I did all of the toileting trips from then on in even with our daughter number four.

We did however sell that camper trailer after that holiday as we knew that we never wanted to have to be stuck at that petrol station ever again!

Addressing the ELEPHANT IN THE ROOM: ME

So I just have to address the ELEPHANT IN THE ROOM- ME!
Just to letting you that we have recently moved house are settling in well in our new stake ( for those who are not Mormon a stake is a large group of people that attend church within a certain geographical area) ...just wanted to share with you today's enlightening experience...not for me but for those seated around me in conference..it was one of those surreal moments that you dream about in your worst most embarrassing nightmares. Elder Keith Walker of the Seventy  ( again for those who are not Mormon this is a man who holds ecclesiastical authority over the Australia pacific are of the church) went overtime and I was dying to go to the toilet, you know you've been there, when your kidneys start to ache because you have held it in for so long. Wearing a floor lengths skirt I said to Dean I will slip out just after the final speaker and before the closing hymn...I shuffled past Dean but his foot was on my skirt as I stood it in the hallway my skirt dropped to the floor!

 Did I mention we were sitting up near the front of the chapel...Mission president and new temple president were sitting up on the stand and so were all of Dean's siblings and in-laws in the choir...and the chapel was packed with over 1500 people....sharing with you because just thought you would get a laugh like everyone else this morning. On the upside Lorin ( Deano's Brother who is also legally blind) who in the Stake presidency could not see my mishap...and neither could Dean so at least I know two people didn't enjoy my spectacular exit!

Looking down at the fabric that once was my clothing about my loins now lying at my ankles I bent over as quick as I could yanked it back up my legs and held it close to my waist and walked as swiftly bust as reverently as I could to the nearest exit....The girls tell me that there were people gasping"Did you see that lady her skirt just fell off" but to me I was in an utter daze of shock. 

As I sat on the toilet to relieve my bladder ....nothing....nothing.... and then finally a tinkle...WHAT! I was expecting Niagra falls...the shame! Not only had I lost my skirt and now my mind and my bladder was holding out on me too. After having 4 children it doesn't take much for me to wet my pants, a sneeze, jumping up and down, running with a full bladder will do it but amazingly enough when one is exposed in church the bladder decides to hold on!

As I sat on the toilet in utter shock I started to giggle...I couldn't hold it in. I laughed so hard that when our daughter number 4 came looking for me her worried face turned into laughter too...she brought me the car keys and we walked to the car laughing all the way. I rang my sister who shared the laughter with me... I mean when something so absurd happens to me all I can do is own it and laugh!

The pubic affairs Director for the church was released today so Dean said on the Upside He feels that he has divine inspiration that I wont be called as the new Public Affairs Director, ....gotta look for the upsides when things are falling down around you

At least I am in the ranks of Jennifer Hawkins...it happens to the best of us

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wkUjS5v4dx0

Mortdale Public School 30 Year Reunion....those were the days my friend :)

It's been a while since I have blogged and I have many people asking me to return to writing my experiences. Last night I had a 30 year reunion with all my primary school friends. Growing up in Sydney it was highly unusual that you would go to a co-ed high school. All my friends after year 6 were girls as I attended an all-girls high school. Luckily enough though I have some great friends that are rather nostalgic and organised a reunion with both the girls boys I grew up with until we parted ways at the age of 12. It was a tremendous evening with love, life and laughter shared. Four of our past teachers were there. We were sharing our life events, showing photos of our children and sharing lovely stories of life experiences.

Everyone seemed to be fascinated that I had chosen to marry a blind man. Mrs Dixon my year three teacher had been reading my blog and had seemed touched by my story. In a conversation between her and Mrs Dwyer I shared with them my thoughts of really being prepared for my journey back in the days of primary school. You see Mortdale Public School has never been just an ordinary primary school. In my school yard there was a meld of Croatian, Serbian, Greek, Italian, Macedonian Vietnamese and a few of us left over children decadents from convict genealogy. Not only did we meld together our friendships and learnt to get along we were also from different religious background, some atheists, Mormon, Anglican, Catholic, Roman Catholic, Seventh Day Adventists, Jehovah’s Witness, and I am sure there are a few more that I didn't even really know about. Thrown into this mixing pot of kids there were children that had special needs both in my classroom and also in an adjoining special needs school known as Carinya. At the rear of the school there was an intense specialist English as a Second Language School and children with language delays attended the school here for intense reading and writing classes. One of my sisters attended this part of the school due to a language delay.
At lunch time our school yard was shared with children at all ages and stages of development. One teacher, Mrs Dwyer, remembered how amazed she was that the Croatian boys would play football in one direction in the yard and the Serbian children would play soccer in the other direction but cross over the same play space harmoniously as the games were played simultaneously.
For myself I loved helping the special needs children climb in and out of the timber play house and was a nominated helper often at lunch times to keep an eye on some of the children with special needs to give assistance when needed. I also really loved playing tips in the yard and catch and kiss was also a favourite game.
It was so kind of my past teachers to tell me I was a good girl in class. I always thought I was perhaps a little too talkative as all of my report cards from kindy until year 12 said "Janelle has potential but tends to talk too much in class" I had a hidden suspicion that they sat me next to boys in class so I wouldn't talk too much. But my teacher Mrs Ingram memories have drawn a little thin and tell me it was probably the boys that were naughty and needed to be sat next to a good child...how sweet of her to say.
I can easily say that my life was prepared right from the beginning with loving teachers in a great inclusive environment so when I met Dean and found out that he was blind it really didn't cross my mind to not be with him because of his disability. It was just a normal thing to do...to have him as my friend, lover and companion for life has enriched my journey, and taught me many lessons along the way. I am no super woman just an ordinary person with an irregular passion for life, dragging my life long partner in crime along with me, for the ride. Inclusiveness in society is the key...it should be a normal part of life right from the beginning so it's not an amazing thing to meet a woman who chose to marry a blind man. I suppose life is not idealistic and so my story will still strike some people as unusual.

Footprints on my heart forever

My weekend has consisted of travelling to far North Queensland to promote our pedal go kart hire company at an industry conference. Whist being away, for the first time on my own for many years it gave me a chance to catch up with an old friend from my teenage years over dinner. Yvonne and I were both Mormon youth girls in Sydney when we were young we went on many girls camps together and enjoyed hanging out with a common group of friends at church youth dances and church religious instructional evenings known by members as 'firesides' ( named because the Mormon pioneers would gather together at night by he fire to have religious discussions and religious music to boy each other up during the many trials they suffered walking across the plains) 
We have only just started to rekindle our friendship due to the miracle of Facebook and my new opportunity to expand our business in her part of this beautiful country. It was a blustery evening with rain coming down in small gusts of wind, we closed the shutters on the window where the waiter had seated us and pleasantly reminisced about our early years and filled each other in on the gaps between losing contact and what our families were dealing with today. Yvonne said she had been keeping up with my blog and truly loved reading it( which was so kind of her to say) but as our night drew on we came to a kind of sensitive issue that I have not yet blogged about and really haven't given it too much of my energy until this point as for me it was a truly hard time in my journey. 
Our conversation turned to having children, Yvonne has a large tribe of 6 beautiful children, and I have my 4 girls that I adore but I did have 5 pregnancies and in this blog I will tell you about my first child, the little I know about this much wanted baby, and how the conception of this child changed my life forever.
After Dean and I had been married for just over a year I fell pregnant. I was in my second year of school and Deano was studying in his final year. Being only 19 at the time I thought I was invincible. We were both pretty excited about the news. Being fit and within a healthy weight range for my height and at the time The scans were showing me as was 13 weeks pregnant.  I was a leader in Young Women's youth group in our area. We had planned to take the Young Women to a camp in the Gold Coast hinterland and as part of this camp the girls and leaders were encouraged to go on the hike to the top of a very steep mountain. I was the youngest of all the leaders and so it was expected of me that I would set the example and go on the hike. In previous days the mountain had been drenched by rain and the would be track had dried out a little and turned the usually soft soil into thick gluggy mud that stuck 2 inches thick to the soles of out shoes. The hike was 7 kilometres uphill and at times it was so hard to take one step in front of the other without losing your shoe due to the suction of the thick mud or because of the grade of the hill. At times reading out for tree branches and pulling myself forward with my arms was the only way to prop myself up the hill. 
Once we reached the peak it truly was a magnificent sight. With at least 60 young women at the top we watched the sun rise and gave thanks for this beautiful world that we had been blessed with. Together we shared our testimonies and joined in songs of praise. It was a hard climb but a glorious moment that I will never forget. I remember being so thirsty once I got to the top that I downed almost the whole 2 litres of water that I had carried with me on my journey. 
On my return the decent down hill was awkward indeed but after we reached a certain point in the hike the ground started to level off in steepness and it became easier to walk. My bladder now being full was not agreeable to me taking my time to get back to base camp so with urgency I began to run in order to get back and relieve some tension. Running the final 3kilometres and finding the porta potties being my final goal for the morning gave me such joy only a mother that has been pregnant or has had several pregnancies would understand!
Later on that day not feeling so well and putting it all down to exhaustion it was time to pack up camp. Struggling to get my gear in the car I drove home quietly and getting into my bed after such a huge day I had never been so grateful to have a warm soft place to lay my weary body and a hubby who would cuddle me as I drifted off to La la Land. 
Life went as normal for the next 4 weeks. I went to college and Deano went to uni as our usual way of life at this stage. I was I a lecture when I started to feel an unusual feeling. The type of cramping that I would usually have when it was that time of the month. I took myself off to the bathroom and to my utter dismay I found myself spotting. Thinking this was not a good sign I went straight over the road to see my older sister who worked as a beauty therapist in a nearby salon. My sister and I were not super close but when it comes to our health it seems it has been that we have been there for each other through out our life. Quickly she responded and had me at the local Doctor to see what was happening. Sending me for scans we leaned that the baby I was carrying now just into my 17th week of pregnancy had I fact died 4 weeks earlier. The Doctor was gentle when she broke the news to me, with consoling words and explanations that it was often life's way of weeding out babies that are not fully formed or that could  have been born with complications of one type or another. She almost made it sound that although I was sad I should have been grateful not to have been burdened with a child with a disability. My sister came through for me taking me to the hospital picking Dean up from University and organising clothing and all my temporal needs, showing me that although we had not agreed on everything in the past she really did care and love me, to this day I will ever be thankful that she is my sister.
But the story of this child does not end there, once I got to the Lismore Base hospital the room that they put me in was in the children's ward, I shared my room with a 12 year old girl. I was puzzled why I was in the children's ward but up on asking a nurse she explained to me as I was 19 they considered me a child. My operation was booked for 9am the next day to remove my unborn child. All night I was made to listen to cries of sick children, ones who were ill enough to be in hospital, some were new borns, and others were toddlers with their mothers staying to hold their little hands, wipe away their tears, blow their noses, feed them and do what mothers do best, hug and love their children. I felt the deepest sense of loss. Laying all night thinking why would this happen to me? Why would they put me in this part of the hospital, what do I have to learn from this, and remembering back to the camp I had been on in the thirteenth week of my trimester I felt such an intense feeling of guilt rush over me because what if hiking that day had caused my baby to die.  Even now with a tear in my eye I sit on the plane back to Brisbane and those feelings come back to me and bring a tear to my eye. 
The hospital discharges me a few hours after my operation. Not one doctor or nurse told me anything about my baby, I will never know in this life what sex my child  was, what happened to my baby's body after birth and why my baby had died. 
Being young and traumatised I didn't ask any questions either. I just wanted to be out of that hospital room with all those babies as quick as I could and I wanted my life to be normal again. It took some time for me to heal but I did and it made me a strong person for it.
One thing is for sure, I know that I have a family that is sealed for time and all eternity, I will get the chance to be this child's mother, maybe not on this earth but I believe I will have a time in the worlds to come. I believe that my role as a mother to my 4 daughters has been made more precious because of my little gone before soul and I have taken my role as a mother more serious than ever because the worth of each soul is great in he eyes of our Heavenly Father...even the smaller ones.

Biking it the Liam Neeson way

"Don't forget your wallet" was what I was prompted to say to Deano as he walked out the front door and started to push his bike up the hill to ride to school and catch a lecture for the morning. Money was always tight and although we had a car we had to watch how much we spent on petrol. Deano still enjoyed riding his pushie so was happy to ride his way to university helping him to stay fit and active and independent. Forgetting that he is blind for just one moment he laughed at me when I insisted " I just have a prompting to tell you to take your wallet" to which he replied "Why I have no money?" And with a flippant grin I responded "Just do it for me...you never know you might get hit by a bus!"
That morning was early march...we had moved house and now lived on the downside of a hill on the outskirts of the city of Lismore. The rent was a little cheaper but so were the diggs. The unit smelt like stale smoke and the man that lived in the apartment above us had a nervous disorder where he made an explosive noise that was thrust deep from his guttural base of his bowels and exploded out of his mouth every five to to 10 minutes or so, like someone was shunting him with the heimlich manoeuvre.  The only time the noise would cease was when he was asleep. Lucky for us he was aged and not a party animal who stayed up to all hours of the night. 
So there I was reading text books at my desk which butted up to large misty window overlooking our overgrown common garden. All was quiet apart from the grunting coming from the man upstairs. It was that quiet that I literally could hear crickets long before it was a joke! With my mind on early childhood ages and stages of development and Freudian theories and the like, to my surprise from the corner of my eye I spy my husband limping down the path, wearing a torn bloodied shirt, broken helmet in one hand, bent and buckled front wheel of his bike in the other. So many questions ran through my mind but the ones that stood out the most was...where was the rest of your bike and how much damage did you do to the bus?
Of course that was not the first thing I said to him ( I do know how to show some restraint and compassion at times) and of course I asked Deano what happened in the most compassionate way that I could muster...followed by...I told you to take your wallet....I knew something would happen today...I was prompted!
I guess you want to know what actually happened to my poor blind man. Deano was doing his usual, riding his way home down the side of the mountain with his eyes firmly fixed on the white line when a car backing out of a driveway failed to see Dean on his death defying mission home. With Deano careering down the hill, wind in his hair, the silver bullet of a bike comes to an abrupt holt collecting the passenger door of the sedan. Deano and the bike begin his first open air acrobatic display flying over the top of the  of the car and like a pro tucking and rolling landing on the back of his backpack and propelling forward ending this manoeuvre in a squat position on his feet. 
For his Ciurqu-du-Soleil efforts Deano was offered a ride home by the distraught driver, a broken write-off of a bike and a few life long scars on his lower back where the road chew through his shirt and his epidermal layer covering each vertebrae on his lumbar. 
What did we learn from this experience? (you might be asking)... I learnt that listening to spiritual promptings, you know the thoughts hat come to you just out if the blue or the inner voice that prompts you to say or do something you would not have done otherwise, no matter how weird, follow that advise. It is powerful!
If I was to ask Deano what he learnt from this event I am sure there were a couple of teaching moments...the bike helmet and back pack saved his life, his wife is in tune with promptings and last but not least...don't leave home without your wallet!

Pay it Forward

After struggling for 6 months getting to University classes, library, shopping and church without a car a mystery cheque came to us in the mail. The cheque was for the value of $2500. The letter that accompanied this grand sum stated that it was given with love from an undisclosed relative who had watched our struggles and knew we needed a car. Wow just wow, this was so out of the blue, not expected and I will be forever grateful. I was always told that by paying a full tithing that I would always be blessed and this really was a blessing I just didn't see coming. That sounds a little weird to those not of my faith but all my life I have been taught that by donating a tenth of my income to back to The Lord then I will be blessed to have enough for my needs and enough to help others. I read the book "Rich Man Poor Man" by Robert kiyosaki in my young adult years and also have attended seminars by other wealthy people such as Anthony Robbins and they seem to say the same thing. If you donate 10%of your income to charity then you will be a wealthy person indeed.
This I have found to be true. Not that my husband and I have been millionaires or even truly monetary wealthy but we have always had enough for our needs and enough to share with others by practicing this principle and along the way we have had our prayers answered when we were in times of need and when we did not even consider that we were needy special blessings have come into our life like the money for our first car. 
So there we were for the first time we felt the love of a all knowing Heavenly Father who had prompted someone to watch over and take care of us. 
I always wanted a small car one that was nothing like the huge  four wheel drive or Hiace van that my parents had thought me to drive in. I didn't really take into consideration what Deano would have liked to be seen driving in as I was the driver and we'll you know He was the passenger. I had walked past the same car yard probably every day for 6 months and there was a little car on the lot that took my eye. It was a 2 door, 1977, white, Honda Civic. The price tag was $2499.00 what are the odds. It felt so good being able to walk in and sign the cheque over to the salesman. 
Driving away with the windows down and the wind in my hair literally, no air conditioning in this little beauty. I felt a sense of freedom. That's what paying tithing has done for me. It really has given me my freedom, a freedom to be blessed and in return bless others. That little car was mine for the first 4 years that I was married, it moved us from house to house from state to state and carried many opportunities to serve my friends and neighbours as we gave lifts to others, helped friends move house, it helped me in service opportunities in the church where I volunteered in positions such as youth group leader and transported meals to those in need. 
I have had people not of my faith say to me that 10% of our income is so much to pay, but I feel like it is such a bargain. I have gained so much more than what that money could have bought and at times when it has been a real test of my faith because my budget has been tight I have learnt to pay it anyway as I can truly testify that through sacrifice comes magnificent blessings...how on earth does a blind man study not one but two degrees, run his own business and have his own house...and a wife and four daughters, and still has enough to share...I say it's because we pay tithing. 

Best day of the year-Mother's Day

Mother's Day brings great memories for me of when my girls were so very little and just adored their Mother. They would wake me with the clinking sounds of children and their Dad busy in the kitchen making me breakfast in bed. It was and still is the only day of the year I really enjoy. The only day I am not reminded I am a year older, and unlike Christmas and Easter I am not expected to get out of bed early and make everyone else's day special. 
Well before the pitter patter of little feet in our house I had to make some decisions of what to study. I really wanted to be something in the corporate world..a CEO of something or other in a big office overlooking a beautifully laid out city. My parents had always instilled in me that I was the born leader of the family and I had the nick name of Bossy B#tch by my non-member Dad...but he affectionately shortened that to BB along the way. 
My new life choice of getting married so young had me thinking about my future family more and more and after careful consideration it was decided that office life was not going to be my path. I chose to learn about children and to complete an Associate Diploma in Social Science (Child Studies), my new husband had already started his second year of his Environmental Science degree. I knew one of us should learn how to deal with what lay ahead of us so that we could cope with the brood, Dean had suggested that were going to be part of this union, one day as we were driving along in my Mum's Hiace van. 
During my studies I spent time practicing being a mum to other peoples children. I learnt how to write awesome observations of children's development and to know what to expect from children's milestones and achievements. I absorbed as much information as I could and feeling like a sponge I took in as much practical knowledge as possible. 
The birth of each of our four girls was something we both looked forward to. Our first pregnancy was the trickiest with her being 2 weeks overdue and having to be induced and later on born by Caesarian section after 12 hour labour was not fun. 
Due to my complications with my first pregnancy the following three children were all born Caesarian. They should have just installed a zipper down there, it would have been a lot easier! 
After each child was born our world turned upside down and if you knew my girls you will know why I say not a day goes by that Deano and I are not surprised in some way or another! It's certainly not a dull household, I say that we are "surprised" because at first when we had our oldest daughter grow into her teens I would have said "shocked" but now we have become accustomed to new things happening each day we just try find the silver lining in life and hold on to that as tight as we can.
Even with Deano's blindness parenting the children when they were younger was easier than it is today. No amount of reading of text  books could have prepared me for 4 teenage girls. 
We love each one of them and are thankful for each of them everyday. Each morning when we have scripture study and kneel in family prayer it is an opportunity for us to share our love for them with our Father in a Heaven and gratitude for lending us these precious souls for our life journey and into eternity. And while they are teenagers sometimes they see us as their enemy but I  suppose most teens say that about their parents but deep down inside we know they love us as much as they did when they were little because although they are a challenge we love them just the same and if not more than the day they were born. When I see each girl taking their turn at holding their Fathers's hand and guiding him through a crowded shopping centre or busy car park, or when we see them caring for someone who has a disability we know they are learning from being our children that the reason why we are on earth is to help others in need and to love one another. My heart is warmed by the affection they show to their Dad and how they will always respond to him with love even when he is reproving them for stepping out of line. (Which seems to be often now days) But most of all when my girls ask me what I want for Mother's Day the most joy I feel is when they live by my request...I just want good children and breakfast in bed! 



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One crazy afternoon

Life for a young wife was not quite what I had planned for. We moved into a unit that cost us $100 a week in rent. Considering all of our income was $300 per fortnight $200 in rent did not leave us much left over. We also faithfully paid $30 tithing to our church which is 10% of our income and what was left over was shared with food and text books for our studies. My mother would bring us meet to eat and a lovely lady from church brought us a box of bananas each week which helped theocery budget to stretch a little further. We could not afford a phone connection and used the pay phone at the service station. We lived in down town Lismore right behind the KFC so each day I would smell that golden fried chicken woft past my veranda window and into my front door but could never afford to buy any. Just as well as I could have been as big as a house! 
We lived at the base of this wok shaped city. I call it a wok because it is surrounded by beautiful mountains all around and the city itself is built right in the valley where. In the heat of summer the humidity would cook you and any breezes that would cool you were blocked by the mountains. Summer storms are a common occurrence in the afternoons.
We started our day to day living with transporting ourselves like a missionary companionship on push bikes or walking. We became experts at hanging  the grocery bags on the bicycle handles and riding through the main streets back to our humble abode. There were times I absolutely hated the ride, I was often panicked that Dean could not see well enough and would get squished by oncoming traffic. Deano however was never fazed. He had grown up with parents that encouraged both himself and his visually impaired older brother Lorin to have no fear and to go out and be and do what you want to do without their loss of this one sense to hold them back. The boys would often ride their bikes into town following the white line that marked the side of the road and use their other senses such as hearing and smell to guide their way. Living a country life they could certainly tell you when a cattle truck was approaching and passing just by the sound and smell.
Me on the other hand didn't really enjoy my buttocks sitting on the pin cushion of a bike seat.  Not being capable bike rider it became apparent to me that this part of my life journey was going to be tough.
On one such occasion I was riding my pushie following behind my hubby and to my dismay the chain fell off and the bike came to a stop. Ladened with groceries I was not a happy princess! I have a fairly loud voice and I called ahead to Dean but obviously on this stinking hot summers day he did not hear me. I felt like my world was just about to crumble. My goodly other half not seeing my dismay kept on peddling all the way home. All of a sudden I was on my own. With the night sky growing darker I sat in the gutter and cried. Surely Dean would get home and realise I am not behind him and come back and be my hero...I waited sobbing out my little heart. I was so precious about my demise that I didn't care about anyone seeing me upset as they drove by. After about 45min I realised that my knight in shining armour wasn't going to come and save me. Right there and then the pampered princess crown slipped off my head and with that I had to get some resilience about me. This was a challenge that I know most people reading this would consider a laugh and looking back it really wasn't that much of a challenge, but to me at the time with growing up having parents that had pretty much pampered me being there for all my self inflicted disasters to pick up the pieces, this was the worst feeling ever. Right there and then I learnt that I can get through challenges on my own. If Dean can do it I can do it. I picked myself up from the gutter. Collected all of my groceries and walked the bike and all the way home.
Arriving home my knight in not so shining armour was back in his room studying didn't seem worried about his damsel in distress at all...and boy was I in distress by this time. Once I had let leash my distress and not so politely blamed the whole incident on him (poor guy) ..my hero not knowing how to react to a hissy fitting crazy wife lost his cool and punched a hole in the wall...and what did I do...I stood there and laughed at the absurdity of the whole situation.  We both calmed down and today look back at this as a crazy learning afternoon, when the summer heat twisted our minds into moosh. Could we have handled this better. The answer is yes...would I start all over again and pick Dean as my companion and live in poverty for a few years again Heck yes! It's through these trials I have gained gratitude for the blessings I have today. At the time even though it was hard I was always grateful for my health, for food on my table and a roof over my head. Although I have much more worldly possessions now I still have that attitude of gratitude and accept that all that I have has been given to me by my Father in Heaven. Plus repairing that wall gave us an opportunity to learn about renovating and a taste of creating and restoring....which is something Dean and I have done now in 4 houses that we have purchased. We have been blessed indeed!

Honeymoon Part 3 Where the Wild Things Are

Highway caravan park living was rather interesting during our honeymoon. On booking a caravan park it never crossed my mind that we would have separate toilet and showers for men and women. This was the case at the caravan park we were staying at. As we prepared to get ready for our showers we had to gather all our clothes and towels and take the long walk to the shower block. If you read my previous blog posts you will know that our camp site was outside of the boom gates so part of our trip was ducking under the gates and trying to do this with timing when to tell my blind husband to duck low, and give him instructions on just how low was a little tricky as he was loaded to the hilt carrying my belongings as well as his own. Such is the gentleman! I must admit I am not really good at giving directions and even after 24years the words still fail me at times and poor Deano has suffered some shocking injuries in the past due to me..just recently I asked him to place some rubbish in the bin, however I had moved the bin out of its regular place and Deano went to pick up something he had left on the ground where the bin was now standing and he nearly knocked himself out on the edge of the green wheelie as he reached down smacking his mouth. He ended up with a badly split lip and a trip to the emergency room to see if it needed stitching and to update his tetanus shot. Poor guy!

As we walked past tents and tent ropes with me giving Deano instructions on where to step we made it in one piece to the bathroom. I lead Dean to the mens area and it was up to him from there, now days there are plenty of disabled toilet areas that we can use so that he does not have to feel around to find the toilet seat. I can gave him verbal instructions of where the porcelane bowl is and where the sink is to wash his hand. I bet you never thought that this would be a problem...nobody ever thinks about the nitty gritty of what challenges lie ahead of the visually impaired but this has been a bug bear to us for many years. I do have a classic occasion that once happened to Dean in a bathroom but it deserves a blog all on it's own as it has probably been  one of the funniest occasions that we have ever dealt with.

As I walked into the women's bath room area I set up myself in a shower stall and turned on the shower. All was quite in the bathroom for a short while and then I heard a strange noise. The noise came from the stall just next to me. It sounded like moaning. Then in the corner of my eye I saw a hand stretched up  above my stall and more  (now even louder) moaning sounds...I started to freak out, thinking my newly wed thoughts, I threw my clothes on and ran out of the bathroom and stuck my head into the men's bathroom and called out to my new hubby. "Dean , Deano are you in there?"  The showers were all pumping out steamy water  and I heard that a few male voices mutter and laugh. Dean walks out with a towel covering him and asks me what was up. At this stage my heart was racing with concern when I responded..."Honey I am scared to go back into the bathroom" "Why" was his response..."Because there are people doing the wild thing in the cubical next to me, they are making noises that only one to should hear in private and they are doing it in a very public place" My goodly husbands response with a grin on his face said "Man up and go back in there" The other men in the bathroom had overheard my conversation and were all laughing and cheering on the happy couple in the women's latrine and shower area and with that Deano gave me an encouraging smile and sent me back into shower and ignore the commotion.
Turning around with due concern I hung my head low and felt like I was making the walk of shame back into  this steamy (in more than one way) shower area. Not wanting to see or hear anything more to do with sex for at least  another day, given that our own air bed had gone flat with a puncture...not sure how that happened...I was a little over it. Surprisingly enough the door next to my cubical was open. "That was quick I"  was my first thought . I should be right to take my shower in peace now. Just as I stepped near  the door to my shower an elderly hand held the side of the door to my adjoining cubical, the one that I thought the episode was happening in! The lady in there was trying to dress herself but could not get her underwear on both legs and had her top half on but could not coordinated herself to dress the other half of her body. I noticed that she was limp down one side of her entire body and could not tell me in words what she needed.  My sisterly instincts cut in and immediately offering my assistance  and I helped to dress this dear old lady.
After she was dressed I assisted her to pack her bathroom belongings and she walked with a dragging limp  out of the bathroom.
Feeling like my job was done I had my shower. Whilst washing my hair it suddenly dawned on me that this lovely old sole must have had a stroke in the shower stall next to me. I felt sick with concern. I got out of the shower as soon as I could and ran to the office to alert them to what had happened.  To this day I don't know what came of this unfortunate elderly woman but I do know that I did what I could to help her and that is all is expected of me  to me and all of my life has been touched by being able to give service to complete strangers and loved ones alike.
Talk about reading the situation completely wrong...and the moral to this story for Dean is...and what I have reminded him from time to time...It's not always about doing it!

Honeymoon Part 2 Catch of the Day

After a few days of mosquito wet weather we decided it would be nice to head out to the great outdoors outside our tent and throw a line into the river. Don't ask me why we just didn't walk across the road and put a line in there, we drove the little white van to the small seaside town known by the locals as Bogangar  or as the fancy pants tourism industry like to call it Cabarita Beach. It is a lovely spot where there is an estuary that funnels into the sea and a little two lane bridge that connects both sides of the land enabling people to drive or walk from one side of the outlet to the other.

Dean not being fond of fishing or even eating fish was not as keen as me to put a hook on the line. As a kid my Dad had a half cabin cruiser boat and the best times of my childhood were on the water in Botany Bay or the St Georges River in Sydney's south threading a stinky prawn or two on a line and waiting for that elusive catch. Or better still putting an old fish head into a crab net and lowering the pots strategically throughout the bay to catch my Mum and Dad's favourite blue swimmers. Yes these memories of fishing with my Dad early on a Saturday morning were just about the best memories I had as a child growing up in Sydney. My parents weren't sporty and they certainly weren't the type to take us out hiking or experiencing what the great outdoor had to offer very often. Mum had a fear that we would injure ourselves if we played a sport. But Dad did love to fish and with him working very long hours in his business, fishing was an opportunity he could connect with nature and his children at the same time. It was always more fun when there was a bit of a swell on the water and he allowed us to sit on the bow, he would accelerate the boat a little as we went over the rolling wave and then come crashing down into the water on the other side of the ocean caps. All of us girls would scream with fright and laugh at being soaked by the salty spray. We would count how many jelly fish we could see. Some days there was as many as the eye could see, other days they were just in patches here and there and some days there was none at all. Sometimes Dad would pack for the whole weekend and take us to a deserted Island, Trafalga I think was the name of the Island...well it wasn't really an island, it was connected to the main land but by marshy swamps and was close to the oil refineries that line the opposite side of the bay and the only way to get there was by boat. Not far from here is where Captain James Cook took his first steps on land in Botany Bay. So I suppose I developed my love for fishing and camping because it gave me some lovely Daddy-daughter time and an opportunity to get to know my Dad for who he was and not just the 21year army veteran that was a warrant office and lined us all up for room inspection on a Saturday morning. When we moved to Evans Head from Sydney Dad sold the boat but we lived right at the beach that had a fishing trawler inlet with a small bridge that crossed over to the headland. With not too many things to get up to in this sleepy town I would get up early and pack my fishing gear into a bucket and walk my way down the 3 blocks to the bridge and throw in a line. My mum never complained that I filled her fridge with white bait...because that's all I seemed to catch. Not even sure what she ever did with those poor little suckers, probably fed them to the dog, as long as I was happy and busy that's all she cared about.  Yes, I can say fishing gave me so much more than the catch of the day, it inspired priceless memory making opportunities.

So back to my honey moon fishing tale. With not much money to spend and trying to be resourceful  in my pursuits to making great memories I suggested we throw a line in over the bridge. I had packed the little hand reals and a few hooks and sinkers just in case such a situation arose, and felt pretty confident that I could real in a brim, flathead or two. My only downfall, well there was two actually,  to our fishing plans was that we had not planed for a huge catch of the day and only had a very small Eski to put any thing we caught in it. My other downfall was that Dean didn't share the same love for fishing as I had and was really only there to humor me, always relying on my Dad to scale, and gut the fish, in my head this was a male job and totally expected that Dean would have the same hunter and gatherer instinct. (insert fail music "bubum" here)

As I threaded the worm onto the hook, my new husband refusing to touch the slimy suckers and watched over the skyline as the sun was setting and enjoying the light breeze of the salty air on his face. I tossed in the line as far as it could go, swinging it around a little like a lasso and releasing it into the water it seemed to go as far as the mangroves on the far side of the river. It wasn't long before I felt the illusive tug on the line. It felt so exciting. Another tug, and then another. For sure there was something on the line and it was heavy, with loads of drag I reeled the line back in. As the creature came closer and closer there was a wake it left behind it in the water as it was being dragged towards me. Then suddenly it was time to see what was on the end of the line. Low and behold it was a mud crab! A huge mud crab, as big as a diner plate, the dirty looking brown beast had swallowed my worm. Because the light was fading Dean could not see how huge it was. Explaining to Dean how huge this creature from the sea was I let him have the line to feel the weight and as this occurred the crab used its claws and snipped himself free and with that splashed back into the river. Being a little relieved at this point, not being  sure what  we were going to do with such a monster, my next thoughts were to re-thread my line and try again this time for a fish.

Once again I tossed my worm up into the air and let it plop onto the glassy river surface and let it sink to the bottom....within seconds a tug, and then again, this is my night were my thoughts, fried fish for tea, yum! Slowly reeling this in it felt heavier than the last catch, once it got to the surface, to my surprise it was another muddy! Should we cut the line or should we bring it up...we chose to bring it up to the bridge. Dean helped me real it in, the only problem with this decision was that our eski was not going to fit this monster in it and we didn't have a bucket or a pot to cook it in. We lowered the crustacean onto the footpath and tried to cut the line off its body. Not being dead the muddy used its angry crabby claws to try and snip my fingers. Dropping the Wiltshire knife that was given to us as a wedding gift on the ground in front of the beast I motioned to Dean where the crab was and the vicinity of the weapon. Dean bent down to feel for the knife, the whole time I was worried that the creature from the deep was going to chase him and cut of his finger with one clip of his mighty claws but as luck had it the crab scuttled to a small alcove in the footpath to try and hide. I felt bad for the greedy muddy who had a hook in his mouth and must have been in pain. Trying to get the hook out of his mouth Dean got close enough with the knife and attempted cut the line, and as he did our fishy catch grabbed the end of the kitchen knife and would not let go. With the tip of the blade gripped between his claws the crab was not about to let go in a hurry. So there was my blind husband now standing in the dark with our catch of the day asking me what the heck we were going to do with this beast now. A young boy that was standing on the other side of the bridge was intrigued with our catch. He came a little closer for a look. The child said he had been holidaying in the area and was staying in a vacation unit just a little walk from where we were fishing. With that we encouraged him to run home and find the biggest pot he could find and bring it back and we would give him our winnings. With widening eyes the little boys face was like he had won the lottery. Running as fast as his little legs would carry him, the boy returned with a huge pot, placing it at Deano's feet he lowered the crab into its cold metal coffin. With that miraculously the crab released the end of the knife, and the boy thanked us and carefully put the lid on the top. Not sure what his parents would have said to him on his return home but if it had been my Dad he would have been as proud as punch.

We still have that same Wiltshire knife today with the end of the blade permanently bent to the left where it had been once gripped in a crabs claws. Affectionately we know it as the "Crab Knife" It is still the sharpest knife we have in our house and it reminds us of this simple lovely honey moon memory every time I use it.

Honeymoon part 1 In good soil

The parable of the sewer...the seeds that fall in the good soil help us grow. When we were first married I can't say that it was easy. It was hard like the type of soil that you need to till and add soil conditioner to, to make the ground fertile for a fruitful relationship. Just as well there was plenty of love to prepare the ground for the years ahead.

Our honeymoon was one such event that needed quite a bit of TLC for us to appreciate and remember with cherished memories. Not having lots of money to start our journey in life together we were very unmaterialistic in our attitude to what would make an enjoyable honeymoon. In our minds we thought that all we needed is a tent and a beach and we would be set for a good week. Dean's family did offer to pay for a nice hotel for us however being the independent minded young couple that we were we declined the offer and made our own plans, little did we know what was to come of these plans.

On the 4th of January 1992 Dean and I headed into life together as husband and wife. The morning after our wedding day was bliss, we spent the first night in the Hilton at the Sydney airport thanks to a lovely gift form my bridesmaid Jemima. We were greeted with room service, strawberry compote and pastries, to this day is our favourite treat. It was fabulous waking up to my loving husband who greeted me with a huge smile, it was all going great up until I realized I did not pack a hair brush...do you know how painful it is to get teased hair from your wedding day straight again with a finger comb...just as well Dean could not see my drastic looking hair do that morning, sometimes his lack of sight is a blessing!

We flew back to Lismore early in the morning and picked up our little van that my mother had kindly loaned me for the week, and like a pair of Nimbin hippies we took off to our beach side retreat with our tent and airbed jammed in the back. After travelling the winding road for a few hours we showed up at our booked campsite which to our dismay was not on the beach at all...it was on the highway overlooking the Tweed river on the opposite side of the road. Now remember that is the early 90's the internet was not around and so there was limited access to getting any reviews about where you were booking, what I did remember was the yellow pages phone book advert said that it was close to the water so in my mind I thought that was the beach...oh well...We could always drive to the beach or go fishing in the river so was our resolve.

As our wedding day was in prime time holiday period for Australian families we noted that the camping ground that we booked at was overflowing with tourists coming and going in and out of the boom gates. I could barely find a parking spot outside of the area but when I did, I got out of the van and walked a ways to the head office of the complex. Standing in line I patiently waited my turn to check in. I recall thinking wow this really is a very busy place. When it was my turn to speak to the clerk behind the tourist desk she looked through her bookings list and could not find our reservation. Luckily they had sent me a receipt for the money I had paid and so the woman accepted that I must have booked. The only problem was...they were all booked out. Not one 3 x 3 meter spot left for our tent to be pegged.

The lady behind the counter saw the look on my face as my heart sank...and I can give some dreadful looks (just as well Deano can't see them) She had a thought! She suggested that we pitch our tent just next to her office outside the boom gates. With lack of funds and not wanting to spoil our honeymoon I reluctantly agreed. I walked myself back to the parking bay drove up onto the grass strip next to the office and with a forced smile in my voice I told Dean where we were about to set up the tent for our first week of life together...on a strip of grass with highway frontage and water views between breaks in the traffic. Our only consolation was there was a small trickling stream behind the office that made a relaxing water gurgling noise that we could hear late at night when the traffic had calmed down, and the fact that our tent had mozzie screens protecting us from the mosquito infestation that came from the body of water that either from the river or the stream to this day I am not totally sure.

I guess it is the fact that we had each other  that counted the most and with a couple more tales to tell  about our honeymoon hide away you will realize that the soil that you plant you life in needs to be good soil so that when opposition comes your way you can look back and laugh and still  grow strong together.

Wedded Bliss is simple all it takes is a cookie and a kiss

Highly unusual circumstances seemed to be the norm in my life by the end of 1991. Preparing for a small wedding to be held in the Sydney Australia Temple of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints on the 4^th of January 1992 and completing my high school certificate as I made table decorations for my big day seemed an oxymoron. Now that I have 2 daughters that have completed high school and are going onto to university they still appear to be infants to me in this fast moving world and I can’t even imagine them being ready to make a covenant for time and all eternity to anyone. They are still so young and I guess so was I. I have always said perhaps I was young and dumb…but in being that way inclined it was the best thing for me. There were plenty of other dumb thing I could have done…like gotten drunk every weekend, taken drugs, partied to hard, started smoking etc…but no the world does not shame or see these things as dumb…its normal so I have been told. But for my actions people gasp at the thought of one so young taking the life journey with my loved one and choosing to settle down and have a family.  Of course this is not the norm of the world…some people would say I ripped myself off and haven’t really lived. I dare to say that my life has been rich and full.

My parents had to go about finding the funds for my wedding. It was not easy for them as they had just come of the back of the recession that apparently we had to have. Steel fabrication was slow at the time but Dad was resourceful and as the date of the wedding was after Christmas he decided to get his employees to start building old fashioned swing sets and seesaws. You know the ones that they have now ripped out of parks because the wooden seats would swing back and knock a child unconcious with one push…but none the less he set a goal to sell 20 of them before Santa could leave the North Pole. He reached his goal and with that my wedding was paid for.

The day of our wedding came ever so quickly…at first it seemed to take a long time to get to December but the whole month just flew by. The Sydney Temple at the time was the only Temple of its sort in all of Australia. For members of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints it is the panicle of all places to be. When you are married within its walls you are not just joined together until Death do you part? This covenant is one you make for Time and All Eternity. It was going to be a big expedition to Sydney. Getting all of my family and a few of our friends to drive the 10 hours and look fabulous on the day was a big ask. It didn’t help that my sister and her boyfriend drove down in their car that subsequently brock down just out of Taree leaving them to hitch hike the rest of the way and leaving us short one bridal car. We look back and laugh about it now but I am sure my mother was having heart palpitations. I know that her right eye developed a sight twitch.

It wasn’t the lavish wedding you see in bridal magazines and websites today. It was a wedding that only members of the church could actually attend for the ceremony part. So you see my Dad being a Catholic meant that he was not present when I tied the knot. It was a little heart breaking knowing that my Dad could not come into the temple to see me get married. This is something he had come to terms with a long time before as he knew this would be the case for any of his children who wished to get married to a Mormon in the temple. To make the day inclusive of my Dad we offered that instead of holding the reception in the regular Mormon Church hall that we would hold it in his favourite drinking spot…The Budapest Club. All of our family and friends who attended were aware of the reason why we chose this venue. It was not pretty, the room was not even big enough to hold all of our guests comfortably, we had to have the bridal table up against the toilet doors in order to fit everyone seated. The wait staff didn’t turn up, the air conditioning broke down, the caterers ran out of food, and the greasy looking photographer that showed up left a sweeping reminder of his unwashed hair across nearly every photo that was taken on the day. But did I care…no…My Dad was happy, I was with my #blindman for eternity and my Mum was relieved.

I did manage to get a few good shots in at the local park in Oatley. These remain my treasured memories and the feeling I got kneeling across the alter to my beloved Dean to make eternal commitments will be one I will never forget. Weather Dean could see me or not it did not matter to me. I felt beautiful and that is all that mattered to me.

I think for my own daughters the thought of them eloping to the nearest Latter-Day Saint temple appeals to me…no fuss…just tell me at the last minute and I will be there…that’s what I have given them instruction to do…That’s if they ever get married…my greatest hope is that they are happy and have eternal joy.

Who needs a guide dog?

"Lead me, guide me, walk beside me, help me find the way" These are the words from a popular hymn that they sing in the LDS church (Mormon Church)...now I should refer to my religion as it's proper name 'The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day-Saints' but we have known in the world as Latter-Day-Saints, LDS or Mormon. Rarely are we referred to as Christian, but to all that really know us, would realize that we are Christian and believe in Christ as our Redeemer, Saviour and King. The words to this song "I am a Child of God" was a song that I had learnt as a wee little child. When I met Dean it took on a whole new meaning for me.

For this young special man in my life I literally became his guide. A little less in the beginning of our relationship. Dean was able to get himself around the university and all other familiar surroundings, but understandably as we went anywhere new he held onto my arm or hand and I would verbalize where and when to take a step...it took me a while to practice the timing of when to tell him to step as I had to pace my instructions with the timing of our walking and giving him enough time to cognitively comprehend my instructions. There have been times when I miss timed instructions and it almost had dire consequences.

One such time was when we were on a date at Movie world and Dean really wanted to go on the Lethal Weapon Ride. I am not one for roller coasters but I told him I would help him line up in the queue and assist him to board the ride. I completed my task on getting him on the ride but on dismount Dean's understanding of my instructions on where to walk must not have been that great or clear because he almost stepped right of the edge of the platform. I had to yell stop before he took the last almost fatal step and walked right of the end of the netted 4-5meter drop below. At least he stopped at the last minute and after my panicked heart settled to a normal rate I can look back and laugh a little at how absurd we would have looked to the attendants. After all Dean didn't have a cane at this stage therefore anyone around us would have considered him sighted and treated him as such. Dean liked it that way. He was and still is in a way fearful of judgment of others to the point that he didn't want to be seen as different and therefore treated any differently to those around him. Fearful in the sense that he was anxious of being labeled as disabled and thus other people around him limiting his opportunity for living his life to the full.

Dean's parents had raised him and his older brother as if they were sighted children. No special consideration was given to them. Being from a family of 6 children the boys were expected to pull their weight around the house. Expected to mow the lawn, expected to clean their rooms, do the dishes, and clean out the car and wash it every Saturday. It was normal for the boys to deliver junk mail in their neighbourhood for years as teenagers in order to save some pocket money. In every way they had a conventional upbringing so it has been a joyful experience married to a man who has the confidence to carry on with life despite obstacles literally being in our way.

As Dean's sight condition has changed over the time we have been an unchangeable unit in that I have leant to know when Dean needs me to guide him and when I can let go and let him guide me through life. When we get out of the car now Dean has 5 of us in the family that will help guide him through the car park or avoiding objects in shopping centres and the like. Our girls will often say to me "Mum can you take Dad's hand cause that is your job" I just look at them and laugh and say no it's my job to love your Dad and so it is your job and as part of that job you can help your Father too!" This blindness thing is also guiding my children to serve others and in serving others we are serving our Saviour. What a blessing indeed.