I was a child of the 70’s, 80’s and 90’s I never know what to call myself because I grew up in all those decades but I was old enough to remember some of the 80’s; well most of the 80’s if you want to get personal. I remember the high interest rates of 16 and 18%. I remember the tape and read books that my dad would buy me at Coles and I remember looking at the price on the sticker and the temptation to switch it so my Dad could afford to buy it. I remember my mother shopping around in our white Datsun for the best interest rate for my child endowment (because 13% was an option) that she was banking for when I was older. I remember eating buffalo meat, mince, crab and Barra almost nightly because back then it was ‘pauper’s food’ and my mum and dad were doing the best they could. I remember an awesome childhood.
I remember a lot of stuff it’s my ‘quirk’.
So as a child of the 70, 80 and 90’s I remember the recession and in an effort to combat the recession I remember that my father had to work ‘away’ because that’s where the work was. My father wasn’t in mining he was in construction and the jobs that took him ‘away’ were in Groote Eylandt, the Crocodile Hotel in Jabiru and Tindal air base in Katherine. His last job in town for 8 years was the Royal Darwin Hospital; it completed he had to go there was no other choice. I was five when my when my father started to work ‘away’ and did until I was a tween if that’s what we call it now but I was in grade six or seven. I don’t remember feeling like he was ‘away’ or that he was separate from me or my family he wasn’t he was at work. So I don’t remember missing him when I was little what I do remember was the driving and flying to see him every second weekend. It was an adventure. Even then I never saw him as being away he was at work. I give thanks for that to my mother.
I do however remember one of the first times he flew back into Darwin after a trip to Groote it was the afternoon and if I remember right it was the dry season because it wasn’t hot and the air smelt cool and dusty. I was wearing the spaghetti strapped green stripped dress my mother had brought me from Claudettes Young World in Casuarina Shopping centre but I never liked the dress. I was five and hated that dress because I didn’t like how it showed off my shoulders even then I was self-conscious of myself. Darwin airport was still at the RAAF base then still in the aircraft hanger and the airline he was flying was TAA.
I remember the excitement that he was coming home not only was I Daddies girl but it meant he and I would hang out go to the rubbish dump and fuel the truck. Trips in the truck meant salt and vinegar chips and red creaming soda. Good stuff for a five-year-old. The day he arrived home he was wearing his white collared shirt with the brown stripes and he still had the side burns of the 80’s. He walked through the door with the brown laminate handle after the long walk across the tarmac. I had been playing on the brown linking plastic chairs having got impatient at staring through the metal louvres when I saw him. He was hugging my mother and crying into her shoulder his arm firmly wrapped around her neck; I remember worrying that he was crying. I had only ever associated crying with sadness. What’s wrong I asked him? I rember looking at him his face was darker from he sun but the same as always. He picked me up and put me in his hip looking at me he said I am happy. These are happy tears Deb, happy tears.
Happy tears.
I don’t ever remember the missing part or anything else like that now except I remember feeling so very loved that day. Loved and happy because my dad was happy. He was so happy to see me and my mum so happy because he was crying. He was crying happy tears. Happy tears were rare so they were special. And I remember the colour brown because everything in the 80’s was brown.
xx Deb
