Jeanette (Net or Nettie) has a heart as big as all outdoors and a personality larger than that. She jumped on the assignment to find accommodation for Candi and me by contacting a few rental agencies and was provided some leads which she sorted through based on her knowledge of the particular neighborhoods, viewing photos on the internet. She picked out one unit in particular. It was a 2 bedroom, located in the beach area of Cronulla, not too far from Robin's and seemed perfect. Cronulla beach is a favorite of the citizens that live in and around Bexley North, like Kingsgrove, Kogarah, Beverly Hills (yes, there is) and although out popularized by Bondi Beach, which is known the world over, it is typically preferred by families because it tends to be less crowded than some of the better known tourist destinations. Cronulla was a favorite of Geoff's and he spent many a summer day boogie boarding and taking walks on the crescent shaped beach. I thought it would be perfect on many levels and asked her to go ahead and complete the booking.
Alas, by the time she could confirm the booking, the unit was no longer available. Nettie then went back to studying her leads and came across another 2 bedroom townhouse that was in an area called "Darlinghurst" which was quite close to the Central Business District (CBD) of Sydney. She seemed to have some concerns about the location and referred to a number of maps and photos of the unit on the Internet. Nettie, Mag and Luke looked at the photos and maps together and after a certain amount of discussion decided that the location, although bordering on a challenging neighborhood, was probably acceptable and that the unit itself looked to be very nice. It was getting to be late afternoon and not wanting to lose out on another opportunity I told her to go ahead and complete the arrangements for this unit. I didn't fancy Candi or me crashing on someones sofa after having no real sleep for the past couple of days. I liked the idea of being close to the CBD as there are a substantial number of parks, gardens, shopping areas, museums and other facilities close by and since I tend to rise much earlier in the morning than most of the rest of my family need those kinds of diversions to motivate me to get out and walk while they catch up on their sleep. Nettie offered that she lived relatively close by the apartment and would be happy to drop us there on her way home that evening. I had no interest in having a car myself as I didn't want to deal with the backwards, to me, system and besides, the public transportation in Sydney is far superior to anything we have in California.
Luke had obtained a telephone number for me for the W.N. Bull funeral home in Newtown. I phoned and a pleasant enough woman answered and debriefed me as to the purpose of my call. Its self evident that these folks have to be expert in getting inbound callers to communicate about a most challenging situation. The woman on the telephone explained in an empathetic voice that we should make an appointment to visit the facility, meet with one of their counselors and that all the details we needed, to make some more decisions we were not prepared for, would be provided in that meeting. She also suggested that once we had that meeting they could contact the coroner's office directly to coordinate the transfer of Geoff from the morgue to the funeral home. We agreed we would meet at their facility the next morning, Friday, the 8th of October, at 10:00 a.m..
When that arrangement had been completed Luke and I climbed into his vehicle and headed to Kingsgrove, a few miles away, to visit Robin's mother, Geoff's grandmother, Shirley Stanley. She had been at hospital off and on during the previous day and was well aware of the circumstances. I insisted we make the visit in any event as I felt I wanted to see her as soon as possible. While en route to Shirley's home Luke gave me some additional information about the area where we were going to be staying in Darlinghurst. "When we were younger we used to call it "Darling It Hurts"" He chortled as he explained to me that the neighborhood lay very close to Kings Cross, the notorious red light district of Sydney but was adjacent to Paddington, a gentrified older neighborhood of expensive row houses and trendy shops. Luke then spent a few minutes describing the neighborhood and the "wildlife" as he called it. As we pulled into Shirley's driveway he ended the conversation with this statement about spending the next couple of weeks in Darlinghurst "You're gonna L-O-O-VE it!!" Luke has this ability to deliver statements like this by adding an additional vowel which is delivered from somewhere south of his vocal chords with all the finesse of a roundhouse punch. We spent the next hour, or so, having a beer with Mrs. Stanley and discussing the events of the last couple of days. I was happy I was able to spend the time with her. Luke then needed to head home to his wife and children so he dropped me back at Robin's and Shirley followed us there in her own vehicle
It was now early evening and dinner was being prepared by Robin's friends, Victoria (Vicky) Pappas and Tina Sundstrom. I have known Vicky and Tina for 30 years and they have been the most loyal and supportive of friends to Robin during that entire stretch along with the many years before I knew them. The group assembled around the kitchen table and were pretty evenly divided between the emotional eaters (I am in that group) and the emotional non-eaters (Robin fits here). All of us "eaters" are constantly coaching the "non-eaters" to put substantial amounts of chicken, salad and bread into their mouths with limited success. I never heard any of the "non-eaters" tell the rest of us to quit eating, though. Whether an eater or a non-eater the wine and beer seemed to go down easier than the food for everyone. Our homogenized families are made up of mostly Northern European ancestors; Irish, English, Norweigian. When I think of us as a group and how we typically handle our feelings I think it can best be described as we swallow them, chased by a glass of the house red or white. We spent the time at the table relating stories about Geoff, all of them good. Jeanette and I dusted off a running joke we have had for 30 years having to do with an Irish jellyfish which is punctuated at the end of the joke with the words "BOOM BOOM", put in for emphasis as an emulation of a rim shot on a drum. The joke has been funny (at least to Nettie and me) for low these many years because it has to be repeated, complete with the boom boom ending, numerous times before most in the room "get it". In this case, JoJo, Geoff's girlfriend, left the dinner table still not understanding the punch line, regardless of the number of times we tried to explain it. Funny or not, the lightness of the moment was exactly what we needed.
Right after dinner, acknowledging that it had been a long day for everyone, we packed up and headed out to find our home for the next period of time in Darlinghurst. There were tearful hugs and sorrowful "see you tomorrows" for everyone. Jeanette jumped behind the wheel of "Tiffany" (her pet name for her middle aged automobile) and guided her deftly through the roundabouts and one way streets so prevalent in this part of the world. It took us about 20 minutes to reach the neighborhood and almost an equal amount of time to actually find the unit as the streets were typically one way, and seemed to start and stop at random intersections with other one way streets. I started noticing the store fronts along the commercial area adjacent to where our apartment was located. "Bodyline 2000", "The Toolshed" and a bottle shop aptly titled "Lickher Shoppe" were just a few that stood out with neon lighting everywhere among the rainbow flags on nearly every establishment. Jeanette had a laugh about it and said we had nothing to worry about. Of course, even though Candi is 36 years of age and an officer in the LAPD I was still a little embarrassed for her to see these places. Just call it a "Dad" thing. We finally found the doorway for 21A Taylor Street, turned the key in the security door and then the actual door (why did I need a security door anyway if this was such a "great" neighborhood?). We said good night to Nettie, she pointed Tiffany back toward her home and we curiously checked out our temporary home. We each picked out a bedroom, stowed our luggage and went about the things one does when newly arrived in short term accommodations. I think we stayed up a while talking about the trip, the day but mostly about dear, sweet Geoffrey whom we would never have the opportunity to speak with again.
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