50 Years I’ve been here now.

First Birthday

50 years, 18,250 days, the same number of mornings and evenings the same number of nights asleep bar a dozen or so all-nighters. 5o years of experiences good and tough.

Yes, I would say tough but I wouldn’t say bad, although there have been some challanging times. Like when I was out of sync in my last year at school because I couldn’t do my precious wood work. That was the time to leave, just before and fortunatly as I got my apprenticeship. Or the frustration of dealing with the end of my marriage and the subsequent crash and burn that came from that. These times were tough but I wouldn’t say bad, not real bad, like some people have, some people don’t have tough lives, they have real bad lives. My life has been just challenging, requiring me to, well, suck it up and get on with it. And sometimes I’ve had the help of some wonderful people to help me through. To all of you… thanks.

So far it’s been a good life anyway I look at it. I have very good health both mental and physical and I’ve managed to do some interesting, even wonderful things. The highlights would have to be doing my apprenticeship, skydiving, building a house, my marriage to Gail,  my daughter Sabina, the many wonderful relationships that I have had, the skills that I’ve gained, working on the Matrix 2&3 films, my podcast and associated travels and learnings and in recent years, the joy of tango.

If you asked me to reflect on the tough times, I’m genuinelly, mentally challenged to remember. I can remember the events but there is no emotion connected to them. I don’t feel as distressed from them that I felt at the time. It must just be my psychology but I seem to remember the good, with a joy that is hard to express and the bad times seem to fade away like a dream in the morning.

My gorgeous Mum and I

It’s strange to reflect on the last 50 years not because it’s the half way mark, I think that is behind me, I may but it’s not likely I’ll make it to 100. The reason for the reflection is because of something I heard 15 years ago. A man in his 80′s said to a friend that he can look in the mirror and the face he sees looking back, looks old and he wonders who’s face it is, as if in astonishment, that this is not his face, as it’s not as he feels inside. Inside he still feels like the 18 year old.

This is what I find interesting. I don’t exactly feel 18 but maybe more like 30 or 35? I’ve seen grown men in their 40′s behave like 14 year old boys because a woman comes into the workshop and they don’t know how to deal with girls. I’ve seen 50 year old women throw a tantrum like an 8 year old brat. Occasionally I’ve meet a child that says something profound and in shock I realise that they have a wisdom far beyond their years (my daughter has done this on occasions). I know that maturity doesn’t come with age.

To be forty when I was a child was old and fifty was… well near incomprehensible. So here I am at the end of my 50th year, marking it with my birthday and I feel more like a child looking on in disbelief, than the 50 year old that I know I am. Sure I have over the years bought into what I should be like by 30, 40, 50 and what I should have to show for it by now but when I’m true to myself and really happy and content  I have a laisse faire attitude to the things that society says are important. Money and the ego based trappings are examples. I have generally a playful attitude towards most things I do. Like the kid that I was, knocking together an old push mower and pram wheels in the back yard to build a billy cart, I’m still bashing my life together, seeing what may come of it. I have a general idea sometimes where I may be going, but it’s only a vague direction, somewhere over there, as I wave my arm aimlessly towards the horizon. I don’t really have any idea what I’m doing or where I will be going. Every time I have attempted to be definite, it’s evolved in ways I would never have imagined and turned out in ways that have surprised me. So now I’m just going in that vague direction, one step at a time and I’ll see what happens and where it may take me.

One of the great things that have come about in recent years and something that I couldn’t do when I was younger and hyperactive, is now I’m happy not to do anything. Well more to the point I’m happy to do no-thing. Occasionally and it seems to be happening more often these days, is that as I worry less and embrace my natural playfull attitude, I have times when for the moment all the i’s are dotted and t’s are crossed there is simply nothing to do. When that happens I’ve learned to do just that, in contradiction to what society says we should do, I simply do nothing… no-thing. Just sit and be present. It’s really quite beautiful and sublime.

So as I sit here reflecting on all those fifty years and it seems hard to imagine that there have been that many, I can honestly say that I have no regrets, not one! Sure with hindsight I might change a few things here and there. Maybe get out of a few embarrassing situations,(like that Harry Hi-pants photo at my sisters 21st) and not say the occasional inappropriate statement but all in all I have never intentionally harmed anyone. Any harm I have done was done with innocence as I have always attempted to mitigate any difficulties by thinking and acting with care before saying things that can harm. When harm is accidentally done I have always attempted to ameliorate the situation. This is my way of taking my responsibility, for the situations with others that I have found myself in during these past 50 years. I find I have less of such issues today simple because I pay more attention on what I’m doing before I act, to consider all aspects of the event than I would have in the past. These days I have less repair to do. I ask no forgiveness, nor offer any to anyone else, as we all do the best, that we could at the time, with what we had.

3 years old at Scarborough

Some people have their lives plotted and planned. They know where they are going, each step of the way. As I look forward I realise that I have no idea where I’m going, just the general direction, pointing into the distance and hand waving again but that’s good. It gives me a reason to get up in the morning and something to start the day with but as so often happens, events evolve from what I couldn’t have expected. If you had have asked me to consider at 30 where I would be today I would never have guessed Here, so how would I be able to predict where I will be in 10, 20 or 30 years. All I know is that at the end, I’ll be dead and what I do from now till then is my life. What I do with it is my choice. There is no right or wrong and no one else really cares but I, so I’ll just keep doing it, this thing called my life and see where the journey takes me.

Life is a Game

A Game to be Played

You can Never Lose

You can only Win

As long as You Play

Most people don’t think of funerals as being pleasant but on Saturday I had the good fortune to go to a great memorial service for a cousin. Malcolm Kath, just four years my senior passed away from cancer about 10 days earlier and we were under strict instructions not to not wear any suits but loud shirts, roll at least one bowl down the green at the Canungra Bowls Club and have a drink, his shout.

Mal was one of the nicest people I’ve ever had the good fortune to know. He was kind and wanted little from others but his simple life reminded me that sometimes it’s the quite ones that have an impact far wider than the people who make all the noise. A bachelor until 50, he finally married his childhood sweetheart Marcia in 2006. At the service I saw school photos of the eight year old Mal and Marcia in the same class at school.

I remember catching up with Mal a couple of years ago and in his style he was holding his right hand out in a claw, complaining that there was something wrong with it. I asked what was the problem, to which he replied “I don’t have a beer in it”.  A simple dry wit was his style but sadly his desire for beer was a life long issue and the addiction to it eventually lead him, in the last few years to loose his short term memory to the alcohol abuse condition of Wernicke-Korsakoff Syndrome. This had the side benefit in his last days, which although full of pain and with difficult palliative care, he was unable to remember any of it, so he was constantly discovering how dire his circumstances were inso only living in each new moment.

I suppose this is the point of this post and what I learnt from Mal on Saturday. Things are not always as they may seem.

He was content with his life fully aware that he made the decisions that lead to all events. He lived in his moment to moment life and he accepted the consequences of those decisions and he earned great respect from his community for that and the decent person that he was.

Marcia Receiving Mals Service Award

At the service there would have been 250 people to see him off, including seven police officers past and present. Marcia received a 20 year service award for Mal signed by the Commissioner of Police, presented by the Managing Officer of the Local Police District for his service. For being a cleaner and gardener.

Now I knew Mal, he was family but for a top heavy bureaucratic government organisation like the police service to take the time to show their regard to a humble cleaner says a great deal for the character of one of the unsung mainstays of our society. One of the many that we take for granted but rely on and when they are gone they will be missed.

Mal, like most of us, will not even be a footnote in history but not too many of us will have earned the respect that I saw shown for him on Saturday. We can all learn more from the quiet, humble people who make no waves but help to keep us afloat.

A little of my personal family history.

The 27 April 2009 was the 125 anniversary of Eduard(57) and Antonia (51) Kath migrating in 1884 from Swidwin in what is now Poland to Australia with their four children Herman(22) Wilhelm(18) Heinrich(14) Auguste(11). After initally arriving in North Queensland they settled at rural Glenco in South East Queensland just west of Toowoomba.

At the time they were among the founding congregation of the local Lutherian church and last week end on the 2 May 2009, 125 years since their migration to Australia, my family, the descendants of Eduard and Antonia gathered to celebrate on those same church grounds, our family history.

Last year at the annual family picnic that my family have been having at Somerset Dam since 1964 my cousins announced that this year would be the 125 anniversary of the migration and asked if we should have a celebration. To an resounding Yes! Judy and Robyn set about over the last year preparing, contacting and communicating to all the family that the celebrations were on. As you can see from the video we had an outstanding time with family picking over the information and photos of our heritage.

The huge amount of work that went into preparing for this I can’t comprehend but only imagine. I can’t express how much I admire Judy, Robyn and June for the amount of work that went into preparing for this celebration, pulling it all together and the wonderful time that we all had.

This is my family. Good people one and all and it was wonderful to see everyone come together for this once in a lifetime celebration of our heritage.

If your a family member visiting to see this video and images thanks for dropping by to have a look, thanks for coming to the reunion and thanks for being part of my family.

A video of my trip to Swidwin last year is in the previous post

150 members of the family

]]> http://iankath.com/2009/05/11/125-year/feed/ 7 http://iankath.com/2009/05/01/swidwin/ http://iankath.com/2009/05/01/swidwin/#comments Fri, 01 May 2009 06:20:03 +0000 Ian http://iankath.com/?p=52

Although a few may see this post who may be only superficially interested there might be a few others who have more of an interest, namely my family. So to my family members, Welcome.

Ian in Swidwin

This year is the 125 anniversary of my ancestors Eduard and Antonia Kath travelling to Australia from what is now known as Swidwin. Originally known as Schivelbein in German in their time, Swidwin is the now the Polish name that it’s know by.

In 1884 this part of Europe was part of the Prussian empire however it is questionable as to whether Eduard & family would have identified as Prussian as they may have still thought of themselves as Pomeranian.

Last year I travelled to Europe to visit friends and record some Episodes of my Online Chat Show Your Story, that I’ve been doing since 2007. While I was in Berlin I decided that as it was only 3.5 hours drive, I may as well travel to Swidwin and see what this town is like. I was also on a mission to meet as many interesting people as I could and was lead to have a few drinks with a couple of delightful women who publish a travel magazine, Hidden Europe. This is my post of that meeting.

In telling Nicky and Susanne of my reason to visit Europe I mentioned that I was also intending on a trip to Swidwin to see where Eduard and Antonia came from. To my delight a couple of days later Nicky sent me an email to which I’ve added some images which you can download as a PDF. It explains some of the history of the area and general information of the times that may have impacted on our ancestor and reading between the lines, some of the reasons for wanting to leave Europe.

A few days later I travelled with three friends to Swidwin to have a look around and see if there is anything of interest. Here is the video of that trip which I’ve put together, I hope you enjoy. Although the trip was on a beautiful sunny summer day and I had great company I found that there wasn’t a lot to see in the town. Maybe if it was any other day than a Sunday it may have been more interesting but in many parts I found it a little sad. Granted we had limited time so we didn’t break into the culture of Swidwin and there may be a lot going on that we didn’t find but I remember thinking that if this is summer and the town is like this, what must it be like in winter?

In walking around Swidwin and thinking this could possibly still be my home I considered how hard life would have been with the living standards of the time, the recent wars and possible religious persecution that drove Eduard and Antonia’s decision to migrate to Australia, giving us the opportunities that we have here. Although it’s now 125 years later I’m so appreciative of the fact that I live in Australia and in their small genetic way I have them to thank for that.

If you want to check out some images of my trip to Swidwin please go to this Swidwin Flickr link and I have included some historical family images on this Family Flickr link.

Feel free to copy, share, print or repost any content that you see here and please feel free to share it with the family. Hopefully it’s of interest to you.

As I write this I’m in preparation of travelling to a very large family reunion tomorrow at Glenco west of Toowoomba where we are gathering to celebrate the 125 years that our family have been in Australia. I’m intending on collecting some additional information that I’ll post in the near future.

Below is a place to post comments. Please mention that you’ve been here, it would mean a great deal to those who read and myself.