Visit

The phone rings and when I answer it, love rushes down the line. It hits my ear and then travels to my heart.

”Hey, Mum!” says my son Callum. “How are you?”

”It’s so good to hear from you,” I smile as I settle down for a long chat with my favourite second son. “Are you well? How are you coping with the coronavirus restrictions?”

”I’m fine, Mum. I’m just a bit frustrated because I can’t do any of my hobbies. Travelling to hunt or fish is classified as a non-essential journey.”

“Wouldn’t it be good if you had your own property?” I say. “If you had a few acres of land, you could hunt any time you liked without travelling.”

”Oh yes!” I can hear Callum’s eyes light up.

“And if you had a dam of your own, you could sit in your boat and fish.” Then I add, “I suppose you’d need to have fish in your dam otherwise you’d sit there all day and never catch a thing.”

“I do that anyway,” Callum laughs. “Fish or no fish, it’s the same end result.”

”You don’t catch much?”

”No!”

I laugh too. Callum doesn’t seem to mind being an unsuccessful fisherman. He’s happy to sit in his tinny with his line dangling in the dam, as he soaks up the sunshine and the quiet. A fish is an exciting bonus. From what I hear, the few fish Callum has caught have ended up back in the water.

Our conversation continues. My son and I chat about a million things, and then I say, “I miss you! Perhaps if the restrictions are lifted in time, we can visit you during the winter school holidays.”

Callum lives north of us, about eight hours’ drive away, in a place that’s far too hot in summer, at least for me. That’s why we try and visit during the cooler months of the year.

Last winter, my husband Andy and I travelled to see Callum for a few days. Our daughters, Sophie and Gemma-Rose, came too. Callum proudly showed all of us his home in his small country town. He was eager to give us a tour of the surrounding splendid but drought-affected area. We lurched along dirt roads in his truck, hanging on tightly, and we saw herds of cows, grubby sheep, kangaroos, wedge-tailed eagles, a couple of open-cut coal mines, recently harvested cotton fields, an enormous dripping rock which was no longer dripping, and lots of red soil and almost empty dams.

Then one afternoon, Callum and I did what we always do each time we get together. We sat at a cafe table for hours, sipping coffee, and talking about life: what we had been doing, our thoughts, and our dreams.

The last time I saw Callum was at Christmas. On the evening of Christmas Day, there was a knock at our front door. Andy and the girls and I looked at each other. Who could that be? When we opened the door, Callum was standing there with a huge grin on his face. “I thought I‘d surprise you.”

We were certainly surprised. At Christmas, there were multiple huge bushfires burning all over our state, including one threatening our village. Many of the roads were closed because of the fires. We hadn’t thought it was possible for Callum to join us for Christmas. But there he was clutching bags of presents, ready to join in with our celebrations. “I found a way through the fires, Mum. When I spoke to Dad on the phone this morning, he sounded a bit down so I thought I should come and have a beer with him. And it’s time you and I went out for coffee too.”

So Callum and Andy had a couple of beers that evening as we opened gifts, and laughed, and exchanged all the latest bushfire news.

The next day, Boxing Day, I climbed up into Callum’s truck and he drove me into town to our favourite cafe. As we drank our coffee, we exchanged our news, and I thought: I’m out with my son! I felt like the luckiest mum in the world.

That afternoon, Callum had to return home. It was only a flying visit because of work commitments. As we hugged goodbye, I said, “It was so good to see you! Thank you for travelling so far to spend a little bit of Christmas with us.”

Then Callum said, “The journey was worth it. I’m glad I came.”

”We’ll come and see you next time,“ I said. “We’ll come in the winter.”

And now it is only a month until winter. Will the coronavirus travel restrictions be lifted before the next school holidays? Will we be able to visit my son?

We had some good news today. Australia is crushing the virus curve. Things are looking up. On Friday, restrictions are easing in our state. Not enough to travel eight hours to visit a son. But there’s hope.

And there’s always the phone.

”Hey, Mum, I was missing you! I thought I’d give you a call.”

Love rushes down the line. It hits my ear and travels to my heart.

”Hey, Callum! How’s my favourite second son?”

I took this photo last winter when Andy, Sophie, Gemma-Rose and I visited Callum.