CHEMISTRY
When I first saw the title CHEMISTRY for this month’s TENX9 event I thought:
“That’s not for me. Never been in a chemistry lab in my life unless you call catering a science. And I suppose it is in a way. All ingredients coming together to form a whole, raising agents, coagulation, baking soda and buttermilk. All combined without risk of explosion, well maybe a little too much raising agent may cause a little pouffee!
Then I got to thinking. That’s not the only meaning of the word. Chemistry. Chemistry exists between two people or there would be no marriages, partnerships, a connection of souls, a yearning for the other’s company and a complete abiding love for the other person.
I know you’re thinking of husbands and wives, a child and parent or any other type of bonding. My chemistry, my magnetic pull towards another person, the object of my admiration and steadfast loyalty are none of these. My connection remains to this day with The King, Elvis Aaron Presley. This may seem to you humorous or ridiculous or even bordering on insanity but it is the story of my life.
I discovered Elvis as I was heading into my teens, first film I saw in the Clonard picture house on the Falls Road. G.I BLUES. I was completely hooked. Something in Him drew me like a moth to a flame. I suffered with a form of depression during my teenage years and told no one. As a child I had no idea what was wrong with me. No one ever knew until I was married with children and then my condition became more apparent. Those teen years were not pleasant but I had Him. His songs, his music and his loving presence in my life, lifting my spirits.
He is always by my side. I met my husband when I was 16 and when he proposed, I told him in no uncertain terms that if he married me he married The King as well. Aw! He must have been in love! He didn’t argue. When we emigrated to Australia in 1971all my Elvis LPs came with me. No CDs, or Spotify or downloads then. No record player until December 1971.
Whilst I was in hospital in January 1972 having my first born son Jason, my friend from New Zealand was getting married. In she came to the ward in her wedding dress, with new husband in tow – not from her hometown in New Zealand, I might add. She was carrying a beautiful bouquet of red roses which she handed to me and which I still have pressed between an Elvis biography. I was employed in a place called Tuta Laboratories in Sydney and on leaving to return home I was presented with an Elvis LP, again which I still have. My dedication to The King grew and photos of Him were placed all over my house in Antrim. One day my husband queried:
“If I asked you to take down all those pictures what would you say?”
There was silence for a few moments, then he shook his head and muttered:
“Don’t answer that.”
He was my constant companion (Elvis, not my husband) in times of sorrow, happiness, depression. He would always make an appearance either by song or his image displayed wherever I was. After waiting 25 years I arrived in Memphis to see the splendour of Graceland, unfortunately and with great sadness too late to actually see The Man. With four children to raise and a mortgage to pay , funds were not readily available to travel to a concert. Even if I had been fortunate enough to attend a venue I actually don’t think I would have seen Him. The moment he would have walked on to that stage Phyllis would have flat out fainted. The trip was nostalgic and emotional, a lot of tears were shed (not from my husband.) But there was laughter too. On one of the nights in Memphis, I woke in the early hours of the morning, woke my ever suffering husband and requested that he drive me down to Graceland so that I could take pictures of the gates on the hour. I can’t actually repeat his answer. There were a lot of four letter words, expletives and genuine incredulity plus a resounding NO! As the years passed my collection of Elvis memorabilia grew, my favourite piece being a three foot high statue of him.
Now that’s a funny story. Don’t want to go over my allotted time so if I run over I hope to continue the rest next time. Anyway I was getting dental work done in Belfast, Malone Road dentist OoooH! Posh or what! Expensive or what! Borrowed money or what!

My usual dentist is actually in Romania bit that’s another story for another time. After the treatment the dentist informed me that it could be a little painful when the anaesthetic wore off. I took a wee trip into town and lo and behold, in the window of a little shop at the back of M&S stood the statue of The King. I wanted it, I needed it and I got it! All I had left of my treatment money was one hundred pounds. Statue was one hundred and fifty. I was gutted. But I knew he would come through for me. I walked around and came back to the premises. Reduced to one hundred pounds. He was mine!
Having left my car parked at my Mum’s I had to get the bus back to Andytown. Elvis sitting nicely on the seat beside me. A few funny looks but no extra fare requested. I carried My Man right up to the bottom of my Mum’s street, Andersonstown Park West. And fell! Yip! A little pain and I fell! His microphone broke, my heart broke and I cried. Mum and I attempted to fix him but to no avail. I wrapped him in blankets and pillows and he sat in the front seat of my car with only the broken mike showing. My Mum later told me that a young boy travelling down her way turned a bit pale and shouted:
“Oh! That man’s got a gun in his hand!”
I’ve been to Graceland twice, Tupelo where he was born, Germany where he was stationed for a while, Las Vegas with all his concerts and I hope to be able to visit Hawaii next year. The end of my pilgrimage.
My youngest son has the honour of being named after him- AARON. Although sometimes he gets ribbed at work about how he can recognise the opening bars of an Elvis tune. I used to hold him up in front of the TV screen when he was a baby so that he would remember to whom he was named.
But actually Aaron always thought for a while that the flags throughout our town of Antrim were for him. He was born on the 11th July.
May we never forget The King of Rock and Roll. I know I won’t. My one request when I pass is that my ashes be spread over Graceland grounds. When I asked my Grandkids to put my ashes in each of their pockets, make a wee hole in the bottom and shake me out as they walked round the grounds. My oldest granddaughter was very indignant.
“I’m not putting you in my pocket, Nanny! I want you somewhere were I can go and visit you.”
Love is a wonderful thing!

WHAT I WANT FOR CHRISTMAS

When my husband and I left for Australia little did we know we were bringing a stowaway. A surprise after Christmas gift maybe. A passenger we had been told did not exist. While I got the negative result, another poor soul was either rejoicing or lamenting the situation. If you haven’t already guessed, all will be revealed soon. I mean Seamus and I were as green as grass. I was nineteen and he was twenty one. Kids really, let loose in a strange land. Getting a bit ahead of myself here.

We arrived in Sydney, two nervous newly – weds, wondering why in earth we had done it. Emigrated that is, not get married. But we had a saviour. My Aunt Mary’s brother took us under his wing and before long we had jobs and a place to live. We settled down, Seamus more than me, homesickness and all that. It really exists ,you know. One embarrassing incident I recall was when one of my newly found friends on leaving work called out to me:

“See you later!”

Now I know its common enough now but not then. I had my poor husband making sandwiches, setting out biscuits and placing our best wedding tea service neatly on the table. And we waited for our workmates arrival. And we waited! And we waited! The sandwiches began to wilt, the bikkies were going soggy until we sort of got the idea it was only a greeting. What a disappointment! I didn’t tell the unarrived guest in work next day. Would you? I could picture her thought process: Stupid Irish!

At that particular time I loved a wee drink and a smoke. Not a raving alcoholic mind you or a sixty a day addict. Just an occasional wee treat. But suddenly they started to taste funny. Couldn’t entertain any of those wee pleasures. Probably a good thing you’re thinking. But strange. I wrote home and requested some Embassy Red cigs. They arrived but no use, cigarettes Australian or otherwise were unsmokable. I don’t think that’s a word. At that point I could find no explanation for it!

Anyway, my cousin Tony and Jill his wife, were coming to visit. They had flown to Australia a few years before us and were returning home. If it hadn’t been for their arrival and stern advice from Jill I might have lost my secret traveller.

“Get to the Doctor ASAP! “ she said and I did.

Four and half months pregnant I was! Well!  To say we were shocked was an understatement. We were so naïve then. I mean what did we expect to happen. We had been enjoying ourselves quite a bit, if you know what I mean. We were married. It was legal! I had to leave work because of a threatening miscarriage. Jason’s now 52 and as strong as an ox and very handsome of course. Takes that from my side of the family.

My first visit to the Doctor and I was told I was lop sided. What? It seems most people are. One breast a little lower than the other and one foot a fraction bigger. I kept looking at myself after that. Maybe if I pushed one up or pulled one down they might stay equal. The boyo didn’t seem to mind. He was quite happy with what I had. After a while I started to resemble a barrage balloon. Even got to the point where I couldn’t see my feet. Hubby had to put on my tights or socks. Flip! He was loving this . Had to tie my laces and all. One of my pet hates is having to rely on a man for anything, especially something as simple as that. And the heat wasn’t helping. 40 degrees in the shade and our flat was on a  very sloped hill. You could fry an egg on the pavement for goodness sake. I hadn’t a clue about what was going to happen to me, apart from the fact that sometime in the future I was having a baby.

I needed someone who knew a little bit about thing  because Seamus and I hadn’t a clue. Lucky enough a friend I used to work with in Belfast Mary emigrated over and we had help.

Eventually I was in hospital, false alarm as it happened, but was kept in. Started off in an intermediate ward, about four beds, but was quickly chucked out as they discovered I had no medical insurance. Dumped in the paupers’ ward, which I actually preferred. More company. I was told, not very sympathetically, that the pain would get worse instead of better. I must have been making a hell of a lot of noise! My son was born on the 27^th January, weighing in at over 7lbs. Beautiful baby boy with his Dad’s ginger, auburn hair. That didn’t last long, turned pure blond in the sun, a mass of blond curls, and darkened when we came home.

His Father came up to see him dressed in shorts. He was dressed in shorts not the baby! Shorts! An Irish man, just arrived in Sydney, in shorts. The whitest legs I’d ever seen, like the sweety cigarettes you used to be able to buy. I laughed so much I thought I was going to wet myself. Seamus got me back for that though. He arrived up to take me home with all clothes intact except for my underwear. Now that might have  been fine if he had brought me up trousers but No! A skirt. I gave him the benefit of the doubt because men are so stupid where women are concerned. Apologies to the male members of the audience.

A lovely thing happened to me while I was in hospital. Well, two lovely things actually.!!My New Zealand friend  Carol was getting married during that time and she landed up at the hospital with new hubby Ken in tow and her bouquet of red roses, which she gave to me. I still have them, pressed between an Elvis book on my shelf. Jason is now 52.Second thing was so unexpected. It happened to be my birthday exactly one week after Jason was born I had a medical problem and was still in hospital on my birthday. The nurses of Denistone House arrived at my bedside with a card and pastry with a candle in it. The card I still have but I ate the cake!

So there we were! With a new baby, not a year in Australia and now a family. Two youngsters  who hadn’t got a clue and a lodger who was only marginally more informed.

What did we want for Christmas. Well just a month after the actual day. We gained a present that we had actually carried unbeknownst to us from Belfast.

The best present any couple could wish for, a clueless couple who were going to do their very best for this little boy. I’m sure Jason looked at us cooing into his cot and thought in his  wee mind: “Oh Dear! I need help or they do!”