Shape of the Holiday

“But, what about?” we began almost as one, and gesturing to the partially uncovered bone. “It’s going to be buried again after the tide has come in.” Our father said. “Can we try to get it uncovered tomorrow?” We asked. “No!” he said flatly, “You wasted all day on it already”. We must have looked a little appalled. I guess the lady must have been a little surprised as well. “I’ll take a photograph”. He offered.

We quickly gathered ourselves in a group around the hole with the bone to the foreground. And smiling broadly our father took the photograph. Some years later, I saw some photographs of the beach and the bay. One shot of the fishing boats tied up to the small jetty across the inlet. But of the bone photograph, I don’t recall ever seeing it. Whether it failed to develop, or was over exposed or what, I don’t know. I also never heard if the university ever went back to the location to find the bone we had happily tried to dig up. We didn’t think we had wasted our day trying regardless of our fathers understanding.

The rest of the holiday past very quickly. More walks on the beach, and an occasional swim in the freezing Arctic like waters, and the discovery of a small creek at the other end near the small cliff point. Which had also led to further explorations of the natural world. On the morning of the sixth day, we packed our belongings and left the beach cottage. Travelling back by bus to Dunedin (the whole 30 Kilometres to the south). It was to be the only holiday trip away most of us ever actually had as children. And, the only one we had with our father. Every other holiday after that, was usually spent running pet feeding jobs (for people who did go away for their holidays), lawn mowing or other part time jobs so we could have some form of pocket/spending money. But the experience of trying to uncover that unknown bone in the sand was something we children shared. Even, if our father hadn’t.

Such experiences have led me to believe, my father did not fully understand what he could have had, if he had engaged with the many children in his family. And this not only impacted on our childhood, and how we relate as adults, but it must also have impacted on the relationship he had with our mother. I asked him once as a young adult, when I was visiting my parents home, after many years of various conflict between himself and the family, why he would not give my mother a divorce. His first response, which surprised me, was, “I can’t afford it!” There was no statement of his love for her, or the children, or the like. He related it immediately to finances above everything else. And remember, we were not a family with any wealth. There was nothing to be ‘divided’ up. The family home still had a mortgage. Both my parents were still working. Most of the children were long gone and making their own way in the world. But he could not relate to the relationships, just the finances.

(Continued tomorrow)